ng in a
place, but wandered frae house to house through a' the country-side: and
every one treated him wi' kindness. The sight o' a bonny fair-haired boy
aye gave him muckle pleasure, an' he wad whiles hae the idea that
Geordie had cam' back to him. From the day o' Geordie's death to that o'
his ain', which took place a month sine, he was n'er kenned to taste
strong drink; he could'na bear even the sight o' it. He lived to a verra
great age, an' for many years they who did'na ken the story o' his early
life ha'e ca'd him Wanderin' Davy. "I hae noo tell'd you his story,"
said Mr. C. addressing me; "an I hope it may prove a warnin' to you an'
ithers o' the awfu' evils o' intemperance; an' I think it's high time my
story was finished, for I see by the clock that it's growin' unco late."
When the evening psalm had been sung, Mr. C. read a portion of the
Scriptures and offered the usual nightly prayer, and soon after we all
sought repose; but it was long ere I slept. The story I had listened to
still floated through my mind, and when sleep at length closed my eyes
it was to dream of "Wandering Davy," and the poor drowned boy.

LOOKING ON THE DARK SIDE.

It is an old but true saying, that "troubles come soon enough without
meeting them half way." But I think my friend Mrs. Talbot had never
chanced to hear this saying, old as it is; for she was extremely prone
at all times to look only upon the dark side, and this habit was a
source of much trouble to herself as well as her family. Mr. Talbot
might properly have been called a well-to-do farmer. They were
surrounded by an intelligent and interesting family; and a stranger, in
taking a passing view of their home and its surroundings, would have
been strongly inclined to think that happiness and contentment might be
found beneath their roof; but a short sojourn in the dwelling alluded
to, would certainly have dispelled the illusion. This Mrs. Talbot was
possessed of a most unhappy disposition. She seemed to entertain the
idea that the whole world was in league to render her miserable. It has
often struck me with surprise, that a person surrounded with so much to
render life happy should indulge in so discontented and repining a
temper as did Mrs. Talbot. She was famous for dwelling at length upon
her trials, as often as she could obtain a listener; and when I first
became acquainted with her I really regarded her with a feeling of pity;
but after a time I mentally decide