above seventy, was not included in the orders under which Glenlyon had acted. Hamilton murdered the old man in cold blood. The deserted hamlets were then set on fire; and the troops departed, driving away with them many sheep and goats, nine hundred kine, and two hundred of the small shaggy ponies of the Highlands.

It is said, and may but too easily be believed, that the sufferings of the fugitives were terrible. How many old men, how many women with babes in their arms, sank down and slept their last sleep in the snow; how many, having crawled, spent with toil and hunger, into nooks among the precipices, died in those dark holes, and were picked to the bone by the mountain ravens, can never be known. But it is probable that those who perished by cold, weariness, and want, were not less numerous than those who were slain by the assassins.

When the troops had retired, the Macdonalds crept out of the caverns of Glencoe, ventured back to the spot where the huts had formerly stood, collected the scorched corpses from among the smoking ruins, and performed some rude rites of sepulture. The tradition runs that the hereditary bard of the tribe took his seat on a rock which overhung the place of slaughter, and poured forth a long lament over his murdered brethren and his desolate home. Eighty years later that sad dirge was still chanted by the people of the valley. MACAULAY.

ON THE MASSACRE OF GLENCOE.

'OH! tell me, harper, wherefore flow
Thy wayward notes of wail and woe
Far down the desert of Glencoe,

Where none may list their melody?
Say, harpest thou to the mists that fly,
Or to the dun deer glancing by,
Or to the eagle that from high

Screams chorus to thy minstrelsy?"

"No, not to these, for they have rest :
The mist-wreath hath the mountain-crest,

The stag his lair, the erne her nest,
Abode of lone security.

But those for whom I pour the lay,
Not wild-wood deep, nor mountains grey,
Not this deep dell that shrouds from day

Could screen from treacherous cruelty.

"Their flags were furl'd, and mute their drum,
The very household dogs were dumb,
Unwont to bay at guests that come
In guise of hospitality.

His blithest notes the piper plied,
Her gayest snood the maiden tied,
The dame her distaff flung aside,

To tend her kindly housewifery.

"The hand that mingled in the meal
At midnight drew the felon-steel,
And gave the host's kind breast to feel
Meed for his hospitality!

The friendly heart which warm'd that hand,
At midnight arm'd it with the brand,
And bade destruction's flames expand
Their red and fearful blazonry.

"Then woman's shriek was heard in vain,
Nor infancy's unpitied plain,

More than the warrior's groan, could gain
Respite from ruthless butchery.

The winter wind that whistles shrill,
The snows that night that choked the hill,
Though wild and pitiless, had still

Far more than Southron clemency.

"Long have my harp's best notes been gone, Few are its strings, and faint their tone, They can but sound in desert lone

Their grey-hair'd master's misery. Were each grey hair a minstrel-string, Each chord should imprecations fling, Till startled Scotland loud should ring,

'Revenge for blood and treachery!""

SCOTT.

SIR GAMMER VANS.

AN OLD IRISH STORY.

LAST Sunday morning, at six o'clock in the evening, as I was sailing over the tops of the mountains in my little boat, I met two men on horseback riding on one donkey; so I asked them could they tell me whether the little old woman was dead yet who was hanged last Saturday week for drowning herself in a shower of feathers? They said they could not positively inform me, but if I went to Sir Gammer Vans he could tell me all about it. "But how am I to know the house?" said I.

"Ho, 'tis easy enough," said they, "for it's a brick house, built entirely of flints, standing alone by itself in the middle of sixty or seventy others just like it."

"Oh, nothing in the world is easier," said I.

"Nothing can be easier," said they; so I went on my way.

Now this Sir Gammer Vans was a giant and bottle-maker; and as all giants who are bottle-makers usually pop out of a little thumb-bottle from behind the door, sc did Sir Gammer Vans. "How d'ye do?" says he.

"Very well, I thank you," says I. "Have some breakfast with me?" "With all my heart," says I.

So he gave me a slice of beer and a cup of cold veal; and there was a little dog under the table that picked up all the crumbs.

"Hang him," says I.

"No, don't hang him," says he, "for he killed a hare yesterday; and if you don't believe me, I'll show you the hare alive in a basket."

In

So he took me into his garden to show me the curiosities. one corner there was a fox hatching eagles' eggs; in another there was an iron apple-tree entirely covered with pears and lead; in the third there was the hare which the dog killed yesterday alive in the basket; and in the fourth there were twenty-four hipper-switches threshing tobacco, and at the sight of me they threshed so hard that they drove the plug through the wall, and through a little dog that was passing by on the other side. I, hearing the dog howl, jumped over the wall, and turned it as neatly inside out as possible, when it ran away as if it had not an hour to live.

Then he took me into the park to show me his deer; and I remembered that I had a warrant in my pocket to shoot venison for his majesty's dinner. So I set fire to my bow, poised my arrow, and shot amongst them. I broke seventeen ribs on one side, and twenty-one and a half on the other; but my arrow passed clean through without ever touching it; and the worst was, I lost my arrow; however, I found it again in the hollow of

a tree.

I felt it, it felt clammy; I smelt it, it smelt honey. "Oh, ho!" said ĺ, "here's a bee's nest," when out sprung a covey of partridges. I shot at them: some say I killed eighteen; but I am sure I killed thirty-six, besides a dead salmon which was flying over the bridge, of which I made the best apple-pie I ever tasted. Notes and Queries.

MOSES AT THE FAIR.

As the fair happened on the following day, I had intentions of going myself; but my wife persuaded me that I had got a cold, and nothing could prevail upon her to permit me from home. "No, my dear," said she, " your son Moses is a discreet boy, and can buy and sell to very good advantage; you know all our great bargains are of his purchasing. He always stands out and higgles, and actually tires them till he gets a bargain."

As I had some idea of my son's prudence, I was willing enough to entrust him with this commission; and the next morning I perceived his sisters mighty busy in fitting out Moses for the fair; trimming his hair, brushing his buckles, and cocking his hat with pins. The business of the toilet being over, we had at last the satisfaction of seeing him mounted upon the colt, with a deal box before him to bring home groceries in. He had on a coat made of that cloth called thunder and lightning, which, though grown too short, was much too good to be thrown away. His waistcoat was of gosling green, and his sisters had tied his hair with a broad black ribbon. We all followed him several paces from the door, bawling after him, "Good luck! good luck!" till we could see him no longer.

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As she spoke Moses came slowly on foot, and sweating under the deaf box, which he had strapped round his shoulders like a pedlar.

"Welcome! welcome, Moses? Well, my boy, what have you brought us from the fair?"

"I have brought you myself," cried Moses, with a sly look, and resting the box on the dresser.

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Ay, Moses," cried my wife, that we know; but where is the horse?"

"I have sold him," cried Moses, "for three pounds five shillings and twopence.""

"Well done, my good boy!" returned she; "I knew you would touch them off. Between ourselves, three pounds five shillings and twopence is no bad day's work. Come, let us have it, then."

"I have brought back no money," cried Moses again, “I have laid it all out in a bargain, and here it is," pulling out a bundle from his breast; "here they are a gross of silver spectacles, with silver rims and shagreen cases."

"A gross of green spectacles!" repeated my wife, in a faint voice. "And you have parted with the colt, and brought us back nothing but a gross of green, paltry spectacles ! "

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"Dear mother," cried the boy, why don't you listen to reason? I had a dead bargain, or I should not have bought them. The silver rims alone will sell for double the money."

"A fig for the silver rims!" cried my wife in a passion : "I dare swear they won't sell for above half the money at the rate of broken silver, five shillings an ounce."

"You need be under no uneasiness," cried I, "about selling the rims, for they are not worth sixpence, for I perceive they are only copper varnished over."

"What!" cried my wife, "not silver! the rims not silver?" "No," cried I, "no more silver than your saucepan."

"And so," returned she, "we have parted with the colt, and have only got a gross of green spectacles, with copper rims and shagreen cases! A murrain take such trumpery. The blockhead has been imposed upon, and should have known his company better!"

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There, my dear," cried I, "you are wrong; he should not have known them at all."

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Marry, hang the idiot! returned she, "to bring me such stuff; if I had them I would throw them in the fire."

"There again you are wrong, my dear," cried I; "for though they be copper, we will keep them by us, as copper spectacles, you know, are better than nothing."

By this time the unfortunate Moses was undeceived. He now saw that he had indeed been imposed upon by a prowling sharper,