That was, and made an evil choice, it he

Were false to us; and if he were not false, There are ten thousand to whom loss like this

G

Had been no sorrow.

I forgive him- but

'T were better to be dumb than to talk thus.
When I began, my purpose was to speak
Of remedies and of a cheerful hope.

Our Luke shall leave us, Isabel; the land
Shall not go from us, and it shall be free:
He shall possess it, free as is the wind
That passes over it. We have, thou know'st,
Another kinsman-he will be our friend
In this distress. He is a prosperous man,
Thriving in trade; and Luke to him shall go,
And with his kinsman's help and his own thrift
He quickly will repair this loss, and then

May come again to us.

What can be done?

If here he stay,

Where every one is poor,

What can be gained?" At this the old man paused, And Isabel sat silent, for her mind

Was busy, looking back into past times.

"There's Richard Bateman," thought she to herself,
"He was a parish-boy-at the church-door
They made a gathering for him—shillings, pence,
And half-pennies, wherewith the neighbours bought
A basket, which they filled with pedlar's wares;
And with this basket on his arm, the lad
Went up to London; found a master there,
Who out of many chose the trusty boy
To go and overlook his merchandise

Beyond the seas; where he grew wondrous rich,
And left estates and monies to the poor,
And at his birth-place built a chapel floored
With marble, which he sent from foreign lands.”
These thoughts, and many others of like sort,

Passed quickly through the mind of Isabel,
And her face brightened. The old man was glad,
And thus resumed,-" Well, Isabel, this scheme.