from a German romance,) with a mourning bonnet on her head and a huge umbrella in her left hand. With her right she held some unlucky urchin who was not spry enough to escape her. Her gray hair was braided and hung down behind in two bristly plaits, the ends of which she decorated with blue and red ribbon, having alternate bows of each color. Grotesque as was her appearance, her pupils knew their interest better than to indulge in the slightest smile, for extra recesses, permissions "to speak," and other similar favors depended upon her good will. Nevertheless, we consider her in the two relations of "time and place." Aunt Hitty was an excellent "school-mistress." Her half-hour prayers at morning and evening, were fervent and humble, and she always endeavored to inculcate moral maxims to the best of her ability. Twice a week she spent an hour in questioning her pupils from the assembly's Catechism, and Dr. Watts himself would have been astonished at the readiness with which the younger pupils repeated the hymn beginning, "Whatever brawls disturb the street" and "Let dogs delight to bark and bite." An accident however put a stop to this last, for a little urchin, not blessed with a remarkable faculty for associating ideas, being moreover a little confused at the crowd of spectators, alternated the stanzas of his hymn with those of the song commencing, "De boatmen dance, &c." Notwithstanding Aunt Hitty's preciseness and love of order, her numerous rewards of merit, and medals, (i. e. cents suspended by a piece of tape, to be returned the next morning,) gained her great favor, especially as she let the school have a grand "promiscous" recess once a week, when the stage went by. With such guidance, and under such influences, one might think the scheme for "gradual moral development" might be fully realized, but no, the sufferings which await bad little boys in an hereafter, portrayed as they were by vivid imagery, were insufficient to prevent the leaven of total depravity from sticking out in all its alarming peculiarities. If a stranger inquired the way to such and such a place, he was sent in exactly a contrary direction, the boys arguing that the "farthest way round is the nearest way home.” Curiosity was evidently a prominent characteristic, for if a man passed them riding alone, they were always very eager to learn if he knew of any body that wanted to ride, or they would tell him his wheel was loose, and after seeing him examine every linchpin and wheel tire, would relieve his anxiety and excite his anger by saying they supposed it was loose, they saw it turning round. Thus early does juvenile precocity manifest itself, even under unfavorable circumstances. We have seen

the teacher, let us look at the minister. The one we formerly knew, has been promoted to a higher situation and another occupies his place. To the clerical profession, he adds that of physician, and as every death implies a funeral sermon, the town has gained a high reputation for pure air and a healthy location. Some passages in the life of the reverend gentleman will afford materials for a future sketch, if the present one meets with the approbation of the Board of Editors and the bored readers.

LXXV

Day by day her beauty drew her
Closer to the Baron's heart,

Day by day those bonds grew weaker,
Only madness rends apart.

LXXVI

Till at length one golden evening,
As the day star sank to rest,
And the Ladie from her turret
Gazed upon the colored west;

LXXVII

On the soft and quivering heaven,
With the warm light fading up,
And the faint dew dimly gathering
In the flow'r-bell's misty cup;

LXXVIII

With the cricket shrilly chiming

Vesper where the thick leaves quiver,

And the fire-flies' fitful shining

And the star-light on the river;

LXXIX

Dreamingly the Ladie Clara

Watched the daylight dimly close, While the white cross on her bosom In soft throbbings fell and rose.

LXXX

Thus it was the Baron gazing
In her sad abstracted eyes,
Maddened, reckless, to his bosom
Caught her in wild ecstacies.

LXXXI

Burning lips and mad caresses

Wild quick words, too quick for tho't

Told the purpose, fiend-like, daring,

That his reckless soul had wrought.

LXXXII

For a moment on his bosom
Clara faint with terror lay,

Then with flashing eyes upstarting
Strove to tear his grasp away.

LXXXIII

Vain-in vain-with one hand clenching Tore his long and shining hairMangled those pale lips that throbbing Kissed her bosom warm and fair.

LXXXIV

Moans and tears-oh Demon Passion!
Mad with triumph for an hour-
Years of grief and gnawing sorrow,
Are the gleanings of thy power.

LXXXV

Feeble are the bonds that sever

Love and Hatred from each other; Love is life's young passionate childhoodHate is young Love's elder brother.

LXXXVI

Love when scorned may grow to hatred,
Yet 'tis only Love the same;

Love so wild the maddened spirit

Can not bear its burning flame.'

LXXXVII

Thus the Baron felt the scorning
Of proud Clara goad his soul,
Till his heart's unbridled passions
Burst the bonds of faint control.

LXXXVIII

Day by day he saw the roundness

Falling from her pallid cheek, Saw her flashing eye grow dimmer, Heard her voice sound faint and weak.

LXXXIX

And he felt the bitter suffering
His own selfish act had wrought-
Saw those sad eyes curse him daily
With deep scorn and hatred fraught.

XC

And 'twas when the Autumn stooping,
Propped by Winter at his side,
Groped amid the eddying leaflets-
That the Ladie Clara died.

XCI

It was midnight, hushed and heavy,
Not a breath was on the air,
Save the flutter of some lattice,
Or a creaking on the stair.

XCII

Upward by a winding passage
To the Ladie Clara's tower,
Sped a figure, dark and mutfled
Thro' the stillness of the hour.

XCIII

Up the dull and narrow staircase

While the torchlight's feeble glareLit those strong eyes bright and frigidAnd his wild disordere 1 hair.

XCIV

In the chamber lighted only

By the firelight's flickering flame, Faint with perfume, chill and and dusky, Silently the Baron came.

XCV

Lowly o'er her fitful slumber

O'er that sad face worn and wanWhile his dark brow grew contracted, Bent the form of Ratter Van.