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CHAPTER XXX.

Thy house and pleasing wife.

HORACE.

THE snow had now disappeared-the waters had subsided-the air was soft for the seasonthe cloudy welkin had cleared up into a fleecy dappled sky, and sanguine spirits deemed that winter was past and gone. For, in the quaint words of Cuddy, in the Shepherd's Calendar,

"When the shining sun laugheth once,

You deemen the spring is come at once."

Even the faintest breath of spring brings pleasure to all whose hearts are not seared, and whose bodies are not iron. We feel as if we were about to renew our existence-the opening skies seem to smile upon us as they did in the days of our youth, and again their bland influence steals upon our senses. Again we cast away the cares and

.

the griefs of the world, with its clouds and its storms, and again spring up in our numbed hearts,

"Hopes that are angels in their birth,

But perish young, like things of earth!"

But it is not every one who owns such influences. Amongst the inmates of Rossville Castle a fine day produced its pleasures, but they were of a different nature. Mrs St Clair liked it, that she might take an airing in state, and, accordingly, set forth in all the pomp of a stately equipage. Lady Betty liked the sun, because it would shine upon fat Flora, who was sent out to profit by it. Miss Pratt, having rummaged every creek and cranny in the interior of the house, took advantage of it, to look about her a little without doors, to see what abuses she could detect. Uncle Adam, having seen Dandie Dinmont and Dumple safe home, closed his book, and crept away with his hands behind his back to take a saunter. Lady Rossville, taking Mr Lyndsay's arm, set out, as she had done on many a worse day, to mark the progress of the improvements she had begunto accelerate, if possible, by her impatience, the

building of her school-house, and to visit some of the cottages of her poor, with whose ways and wants she was now beginning to make herself acquainted.

Her romantic expectation of finding elegant distress in mud cabins, was now gradually dwindling away; for wherever she went, she met only the homeliness of matter-of-fact poverty.

Gratitude, and respect, and blessings, indeed, were hers, for how easy is it for the great to make themselves beloved by the poor-how cheap the purchase of the best feelings of humanity! Gertrude was new to the luxury of doing good, and her heart would swell, and her eyes fill with tears, as the trembling hand of age was raised to Heaven to call down its blessings on her headand she could look, almost with pleasure, on the children her bounty had clothed, even though their features were coarse, and their dialect uncouth.

In the course of her domiciliary visits, she found herself at the door of the cottage she had visited the memorable morning after her arrival at Rossville; and, somewhat curious to know the state of affairs there, she was about to enter, when, at that moment, uncle Adam was descried ap

proaching. They waited till he came up, and then invited him to join in the visit, which, after a little humming and hawing, he agreed to do.

The door was hard and fast shut, but, upon knocking, it was banged open by our ci-devant friend, the dame of the stoups, who immediately recognised, and most cordially welcomed, her former visitor.

"Eh! my Leddy, is this you?—I ax your pardon, my Leddy, but I really didna ken weel wha you was the first time you was here—just come foret, my Leddy-just stap in ower, Sirdinna be feared, my Leddy, just gang in bye," &c. &c. &c. and carefully closing the door against the breath of Heaven, she ushered her guests into the dark precincts of her foul-aired smoky cabin. A press-bed, with a bit of blue checked stuff hanging down, denoted that the poor sufferer had now exchanged his seat by the fire for his bed, and the chair, which he had formerly occupied, stood with its back to the fire, covered with linens, apparently drying.

"How does your husband do ?" inquired Lady Rossville.

"Oo, 'deed, my Leddy, he's just quite silly

wise," responded the dame, in a whining melancholy key; "he just lies there snottering awa"," pointing to the bed.

"Is he confined to bed ?" asked Mr Lyndsay. "No-no, Sir, he's no confined ony ways-he gets up whiles, but 'deed it's no aye convenient for me to hae him up; for, as I tell him, what can he do when he is up?-for he's no fit to put his hand to ony thing-and he's mair oot o' the way, there, than he wad be ony place else."

"More out of the way of regaining health, certainly," said Mr Lyndsay.

" Health, Sir!" interrupted the hostess; "deed he'll ne'er hae health as lang as he lives-he's just been draggle dragglen on these twunty month by Martimas-I'm sure I've had a weary time o't wi' him, and noo I canna get a hand's turn maist done for him-the hoose an' aw thing's just gawin' to destruction; and, I'm sure, I really think shame o' mysel'," surveying two large dirty arms from top to toe; " and there's the weans, puir things, gawin' in perfect rags, for I ne'er can get a steek put in either to their duds or my ain."

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