which Obadiah's exclamation brought into Sufannah's head. Then, quoth Susannah, we must all go into mourning.—

Oh! 'twill be the death of my poor Mistress, cried Sufannah-my mother's whole wardrobe followed. What a proceffion! her red damask -her orange-tawny, her white and yellowluteftrings, her brown taffata, her bone-laced caps, her bed-gowns, and comfortable underpetticoats,-Not a rag was left behind.-No, fhe will never look up again," faid Susannah.

We had a fat, foolish fcullion-my father, I think, kept her for her fimplicity;-she had been all autumn ftruggling with a dropfy.-He is dead! -faid Obadiah, he is certainly dead!-So am not I, faid the foolish fcullion.

-Here is fad news, Trim! cried Susannah, wiping her eyes, as Trim stepp'd into the kitchen -mafter Bobby is dead and buried-the funeral was an interpolation of Sufannah's, we shall have all to go into mourning, faid Sufannah.

I hope not, faid Trim!-You hope not! cried Sufannah earnestly.-The mourning ran not in Trim's head, whatever it did in Sufannah's-I hope-faid Trim, explaining himself, I hope in God the news is not true. I heard the letter read with my own ears, answered Obadiah ; Oh !

he's

he's dead, faid Sufannah,-As fure, faid the fcullion, as I am alive.

- I lament for him from my heart and my foul, faid Trim, fetching a figh-Poor creature !— poor boy! poor gentleman!

-He was alive laft Whitfuntide, faid the coachman.-Whitfuntide! alas! cried Trim, extending his right arm, and falling inftantly into the fame attitude in which he read the fermon,-what is Whitfuntide, Jonathan, (for that was the coachman's name), or Shrovetide, or any tide, or time past, to this? Are we not here now, continued the Corporal, (ftriking the end of his stick perpendicularly upon the floor, fo as to give an idea, of health and stability)-and are we not —(dropping his hat upon the ground) gone! in a moment!-'Twas infinitely ftriking! Susunnah burft into a flood of tears.—We are not stocks and ftones.-Jonathan, Obadiah, the cook-maid, all melted. The foolish fat fcullion herself, who was fcouring a fish-kettle upon her knees, was roufed with it.-The whole kitchen crouded about the Corporal.

-Tous, Jonathan, who know not what want or care is, who live here in the fervice of two of the best of masters-(bating in my own cafe his Majesty King William the Third, whom I had the honour to serve both in Ireland and Flan

ders)-I own it, that from Whitfuntide to within three weeks of Chriftmas,-'tis not long-tis like nothing but to thofe, Jonathan, who know what death is, and what havock and deftruction he can make, before a man can welf wheel about, 'tis like a whole age. Fina than! 'twould make a good-natured man's heart bleed, to confider, continued the Corporal, (standing perpendicularly), how low many a brave and upright fellow has been laid fince that time! -And trust me, Sufy, added the Corporal, turning to Susannah, whofe eyes were swimming in water, before that time comes round again, many a bright eye will be dim.-Sufannah placed it to the right fide of the page-he wept-but the curt'Ged too.-Are we not, continued Trim, looking ftill at Sufannah,are we not like a flower of the field tear of pride stole in betwixt every two tears of humiliation-elfe no tongue could have defcribed Safannah's afffiction is not all flesh grafs ?—Tis clay,-'tis dirt. They all look'd directly at the fcullion,the fcullion had just been scouring a fifh-kettleIt was not fair.

-What is the finest face that ever man looked at I could hear Trim talk fo for ever, cried Sufannah, what is it! (Sufunnah laid her hand upon Trim's fhoulder)-but corruption?—Sufannak took it off.

---Now

-Now I love you for this-and 'tis this delicious mixture within you, which makes you dear creatures what you are-and he who hates you for ir-All I can fay of the matter is-That he, has either a pumpkin for his head—or a pippin, for his heart, and whenever he is diffected it. will be found fo.

...

ad

For my own part, I declare it, that out of doors, I value not death at all :-not this ded the Corporal, fnapping his fingers,—but with an air which no one but the Corporal could have given to the fentiment.-In battle, I value death not this andlet him not take me cowardly, like poar foe Gibbons, in fcouring his gun.What is he? A pull of a trigger-a push of a bayonet an inch this way or that---makes the difference.---Look along the fine---to the right ---fee! Jack's down! well,---'tis worth a regi ment of horse to him.---No---'tis Dick. Then Jack's no worse. Never mind which,---we pafs on,-in hot purfuit the wound itfelf which brings him is not felt,---the best way is to ftand up to him,--the man who flies, is in ten times more danger than the man who marches up into his jaws.---I've look'd him, added the Corporal, an hundred times in the face,---and know what he is---He's nothing, Obadiah, at all in the field. ---But he's very frightful in a house, quoth Obadah.---I never mind it myself, faid Jonathan, upon a coach-box.

S 3

I pity

I pity my miftrefs.-She will never get the better of it, cried Sufannah.-Now I pity the Captain the most of any one in the family, anfwered Trim-Madam will get ease of heart in weeping, and the Squire in talking about it,— but my poor master will keep it all in filence to himself.—I shall hear him figh in his bed for a whole month together, as he did for Lieutenant Le Fever. An' please your honour, do not figh fa pitcoufly, I would fay to him as I laid befide. him. I cannot help it, Trim, my master would fay, 'tis fo melancholy an accident-I cannot get it off my heart.-Your honour fears not death yourfelf-I hope, Trim, I fear nothing, he would fay, but the doing a wrong thing.Well, he would add, whatever betides, I will take care of Le Fever's bay. And with that, like a quieting draught, his honour would fall a-fleep.

I like to hear Trim's stories about the Captain, faid Sufannah.-He is a kindly-hearted gentleman, faid Obadiah, as ever lived.-Aye,-andas brave a one too, faid the Corporal, as ever ftept before a platoon. There never was a better officer in the king's army,-or a better man in God's world; for he would march up to the mouth of a cannon, though he faw the lighted match at the very touch-hole, and yet, for all that, he has a heart as foft as a child for other

people.