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dence to hoffer as vill give her a lift in this werry onpleasant sitiwation."-"Do you know vot you 're about, you fool!" says she. "Vy, they'll be bindin' you hover to keep the peace," says she," and you'll be had up at the Bailey. I can't allow of no sich doin's."I hope no offence, missus," says I; "but it's my dooty, and go I must!" So she turns purtiklar red in the face, (for she wa'n't put out a leetle, that's all!) and I werrily believe as how I should ha' got the sack, on'y I know'd, and she know'd too, she couldn't get sich another boy as me every day in the veek, thof I say it as shouldn't say it! Vell, your vorship, as I vos a-saying, on Toosday night last I vos a-going round vith the eight o'clock, ven, jist as I turns the corner, vot should I see but a great hulking chap a-sneaking avay from Miss Singleton's doorvay, vith a blue bag in his fist, and at the werry door itself, vich vos hopen, I spies another phiz,not this 'ere young ooman's, nor Miss Singleton's neither, but a illlooking cove vith black viskers. Now I had never in my born days seed a man there afore; but still I didn't think so much on it at the time; but ven I hears o' the robbery, and as this 'ere young ooman vos in prison for it, I jist set my fool's head to vork, and putting this and that together, I says to myself, "As for that nice young ooman being guilty," says I, "it's werry like a whale !" And vot's more, I'm conwinced on it too!'

'You 're an honest fellow, and deserve commendation for your good feeling,' said Sir Andrew. 'Stand down, but do not quit the court.'

The officer plucked the pot-boy by the sleeve, and removed him from the box.

Miss Singleton was much excited, and I felt an indefinable sort of hope that the girl's innocence might be proved, when the officer who had been commissioned to trace the stolen property hastily entered the court, bringing with him a pawnbroker, who produced a large silver milk-ewer (at once identified as part of the missing plate), and which he declared had been pledged at his shop by a young woman; and when the unfortunate girl at the bar was pointed out to him, and he was interrogated upon her identity, he said he could not

positively swear, but he was almost certain that she was the person! Susan immediately fainted, and was borne out of the court.

The magistrate appeared much disappointed, and conversed with the gentleman beside him, who appeared by his excited manner to have been deeply interested in the case. The conference, however, was abruptly interrupted by the pot.boy.

Stop that 'ere fellow vith the vite top-coat and the yellow vipe round his neck!' exclaimed he, pointing eagerly to a man in the crowd, who was just on the point of leaving the court.

This is a strange proceeding,' said the man, advancing with the officer who had arrested him. What warrant-'

'I say, old fellow, draw it a little milder, vill you,' said the potboy, in a cool and rather sneering tone. Please your vorship, tell him to draw his mug out o' that 'ere handkercher.'

The man untied the handkerchief, and Miss Singleton almost involuntarily exclaimed, 'It is Susan's father!' while the pot-boy exultingly cried,

The werry vagabone, your worship, as I seed at the door. I'll take my davy on it, I vill!'

Susan having recovered, was again placed at the bar, and I augured no good result from the furtive but expressive looks which passed between them.

'Appearances, your vorship,' said the father, with calm assurance, 'are certainly against me. A father's anxiety for the fate even of an unworthy daughter, I hope, will plead a sufficient excuse for my presence here. A feeling of shame for her guilt caused me to have recourse to concealment.'

'But why were you about to quit the court so hastily?' asked Sir Andrew.

'I had heard sufficient to satisfy me that my unfortunate child was guilty. The recognition by the pawnbroker convinced me that she was lost to me for ever.'

'But what have you to say to the allegation of the witness?'

That I can bring twenty credible witnesses, if necessary, to prove that I was not within twelve miles of Miss Singleton's on the night in question. He is labouring under a mistake; but still I thank him heartily for the interest he has taken in behalf of this poor deluded girl.'

'Don't palaver me,' cried the pot-boy, frowning, 'for that cock von't fight! He's the werry man, your vorship, and no mistake,— and pray don't let him go.'

The magistrate again turned towards the gentleman, who appeared prompting some query.

'What is your name?' demanded Sir Andrew.

James Davis, your worship,' replied the man. 'But this poor girl's name is Susan Wilman.'

'She bears her mother's name,' answered the man. The fact is, your worship, she is a natural child.'

An old officer now crossed over, and stepped close up to the father, and after a minute scrutiny exclaimed, 'Hollo! Slippery Thorn, is that you?' Mr. James Davis made no answer to this impertinent interrogation, but, at once losing all his former coolness and possession, turned deadly pale. Please your worship,' continued the officer, 'this is a return convict. Four years ago he was sent to Botany Bay

for fourteen. I went down to Portsmouth with him myself, and know him well.'

'Floored, by!' exclaimed the man, and immediately appeared to resign himself to his fate.

'And is he not my father?' demanded Susan.

'No!' loudly exclaimed the gentleman on the bench, rising, 'he is not your father. You have been imposed upon, and-'

'Thank heaven!' fervently exclaimed Susan, while the blood mantled in her colourless cheeks, and she appeared for a few brief moments supported by a wild delirium of excitement. I have no longer any cause for silence. He did visit me on the day of the robbery, in the absence of Miss Singleton, contrary to her strict injunctions, and against my inclination too-for I was accustomed to obey her. He sent me out of the way to purchase something for him in the neighbourhood, and I have no doubt robbed the house in my absence.'

'Say no more,' said Slippery Thorn. I suppose they can do no more than send me across the herring-pond again. I confess the robbery. I have one consolation, however; there's as great rogues among my betters, and I'll be if they go scot free. This girl, your worship, is the natural daughter of a wealthy man. His nephew, who is a gambler and a scamp, employed me to entrap her, and carry her out of the country, knowing that it was the only chance he had of inheriting his uncle's property, as the old gentleman was using every means to discover his child; but I was tempted, and I've spoiled my market. Five hundred pounds lost at one throw, and nabbed into the bargain.'

"Could Arthur Selwyn do this?' cried Sir Andrew's friend.

'Sir?' said the convict, staring at him with unfeigned wonderment. 'Why, yes, that's the man, sure enough.'

The prisoner is acquitted,' said Sir Andrew, with evident emotion. 'Clear the court.'

'Hooray!' exclaimed the pot-boy, throwing down his cap, and rushing towards Susan, seized her hands in his ecstasy, and kissed them.

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NOTE. We do not know whether it was the intention of our worthy friend, Josiah Thorley, to terminate his narrative at this interesting point; but true it is the Old Ledger contains no more than this fragment.

Our curiosity, we must confess, would have been gratified by learning the name of Susan's father, although we can certainly make a shrewd guess. THE EDITOR.

THE GERMAN STUDENT'S TALE.

THERE is hardly a district in Germany that is not under the influence of some Spirit or Demon, Gnome or Kobold; but there is not one at all resembling the Herr der Berge, who presides over the mining district of the Riesengebirge. He is a strange character, and very difficult to define, being just as the whim of the moment makes him; kind one moment, cross the next, a warm friend or a bitter enemy, mild and cour teous, irritable and churlish, condescending, haughty, a liberal, or a tyrant. As to his external appearance, he is, if possible, still more inexplicable. Here, he is a very Adonis, there, a hideous hobgoblin with tail and ears of surpassing size; his favourite disguise is perhaps that of a charcoal-burner, in which shape he may have passed us to-day-who knows? He is peculiarly touchy and sensitive on several points; for instance, he abominates the name of Rubezahl, which, by the by, is only a nickname. His police is quite equal to Napoleon's, if not better. He will allow no oppression in his dominions, except his own: and having an insight at once into men's characters, he will permit no one to settle in the Gebirge, whose reputation has a shady side to it.

Three cottages are all that remain of a thriving village called Gooseback (Gansbach in German). The name, I believe, like other names of remote antiquity, was derived from some local circumstances. It was famous for the number of geese that inhabited the spot. Its patron saint was St. Michael: and the only house of entertainment in the village was known by the sign of the Golden Goose. So everything was in perfect keeping, the name of the place, the sign of the inn, and the character of its inhabitants.

What rare doings there used to be at the Golden Goose! but of all the days in the week, Sunday was the one when the most fun was going on. Somehow or other, it always happened that an itinerant band of Bohemian musicians arrived there on Saturday night, to be ready for the morrow—a capital harvest it was for them. The choice spirits of the neighbourhood generally mustered about church-time, and the sound of the church-bells was often drowned in the roar of the chorus, or the tramp of the dance. There was one song which was regularly sung as a sort of prologue to the revels, and as it is not unconnected with our plot, I must endeavour to render it in translation.

To-day it is Sunday-'tis Monday to-morrow!
To-day give to play-give to-morrow to sorrow!
Let us dance, let us sing, that we may not repent
On a Monday, the hours of a Sunday mis-spent.

My merry boys all! let us each choose his mate!
There's Lizzy for thee, boy! for me pretty Kate!
Each fair one will give without coyness on Sunday
The kiss that her lover must steal on the Monday.

'Here's a health to ourselves! hob or nob, boys, all round,
Till the echoes shall dance to our glasses' shrill sound.
Let us drink! let us drink, boys! we'll never repent
On a Monday, the hours of a Sunday mis-spent.

6

It was Sunday-The song and the dance were in high train as usual, save that perhaps the orgies were even more uproarious than they were wont to be, the very walls of the house were shaking with the boisterous peals of laughter, and Frau Wihkelhaus, the Burgomaster's wife, had declared she could not hear the organ in church for the hideous shouts of the chorus at the public-house, (to be sure, she was rather hard of hearing,) when a young lad, to all appearance a travelling student, entered the village, and, attracted by the joyous sounds he heard, stopped short in front of the Golden Goose.

After hesitating a moment or two, as if to come to terms with his conscience for joining such a heathenish set, he stepped into the house. His appearance in the public room seemed to make some sensation, for our youth was handsomely dressed, and a blush which mantled his fair cheek told that he was unused to such scenes. The noise was hushed, however; a rude stare was all the acknowledgment he got for a graceful bow to the company, so he modestly retired to a corner of the table, and ordering a jug of beer, it was immediately brought him by a smart serving wench, from whom his large blue eyes and beautiful glossy ringlets drew forth a patronising smile.

Certain it is that his gentlemanly address and innocent look had a wonderful effect on the landlord of the Golden Goose. He was an arrant rogue-it was a rare occurrence for him to see anything like a respectable customer; in fact, his dealings were almost exclusively confined to the vagabond loose set of the neighbourhood; for the house had a bad name, and the wayfarer, unless of the same stamp, seldom made it a halting place. It occurred to him that he might make something out of the youth, nor was he long in settling his plans for the purpose.

The student was evidently shy and modest, so our host tutors the laughter-loving Hebe, above mentioned, to get into conversation with the lad. She is to stick at no kind of nonsense, to interlard her language with the most extravagant bombast, in short, she is to quiz him cruelly; and right well did she acquit herself. The poor youth was soon ready to sink into the floor with shame and embarrassment; he knew not where to turn to rid himself of his malicious tormentor.

The coarse, loud laugh of the landlord at the success of his scheme soon brought all the party crowding round: they too joined in the fun, and the more absurdly and impudently the she-devil conducted herself, the more was the misery of her victim increased, and louder grew the demonstrations of delight from the pitiless crew around.

For a time the young lad bore his persecution meekly enough; at length, however, he seemed to pluck up spirit. Rising hastily from the table, he said in a determined tone: 'It is too bad, mine host, to permit such an idle, profligate set of scamps to frequent your house on the Lord's day. To say nothing of the treatment I have received at your hands, I tell you such unholy doings will have their reward.'

With these words he threw on the table a piece of coin double the amount of his reckoning, and was moving towards the door, when the landlord seized him roughly by the arm, and pulled him back into the room. Ho, ho! my pretty little moralist in plain clothes,' cried he, with a fiendish grin; So you're coming the parson over us-eh? By my troth, worthy sirs,' (addressing the company,) we must mend our manners in such a presence. Our old grumbler of a vicar is not fit to hold the candle

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