bless me, too," said Augustus, "after all that I have
done?"

"Well, well, I see how it is to be," said Harry; and he took their
hands and placed them in each other. I need only add, that Fanny
Teasdale became the happy wife of Augustus Hartley; and Harry, having
acquired a competency, gave up the trade of a smuggler.

THE SCHOOLFELLOWS.

A few years ago, I happened to pass through the main street of
Carlisle, just as the south mail had "pulled up" at the door of "The
Bush." The night was very cold; the horses were tossing their heads,
and pawing the ground, impatient to escape from the restraint of their
harness; and the steam, which rose in clouds from their bodies, gave
evidence that they had just "come off" a rapid and fatiguing stage. At
the coach-door stood a middle-aged, gentlemanly-looking man, whose
blue nose, muffled throat, and frozen body, pointed him out as one of
the new arrivals. As I loitered slowly past, the stranger, who had
just settled the claims of the guard, turned round, and observed me.
His keen eye rested for a moment on my features--he started, looked
again, and then said--

"No; I cannot be mistaken. I surely ought to know that face. Is not
your name Lorrimer?"

"It is," replied I, surprised at being thus accosted by a perfect
stranger. "You seem to be better acquainted with my name, sir, than I
am with yours; for I am not conscious of ever having seen you before."

"Look at me again, Frank; try if you cannot recollect me," said he, as
we entered the travellers' room, and the gas-light shone full on his
face.

I looked; but in vain.

"I am ashamed to say, I do not know who you can be, though I have a
kind of consciousness that your features are those of an old friend."

"Do you remember Richard Musgrave?"

"What! Dick Muzzy? To be sure I do--the kindest-hearted fellow that
ever dog's-eared a Latin grammar. What news of my old schoolmate?"

"He is speaking to you now."

"Is it possible? You Richard Musgrave? Why, Richard was younger, I
rather think, than myself; and you, begging your pardon, look almost
old enough to be my father."

"So it is, notwithstanding. I am Richard Musgrave. Time and climate
must have altered me even more sadly than I conceived, since Frank
Lorrimer fails to recognise me."

He was indeed changed. Some alteration might have been expected, for
several years had elapsed since we had met; but time alone could not
have thus metamorphosed him. We ha