nscience of the sin thou hast
committed."

The lady Anna retired from the apartment with a haughty air and
measured step.

"Lady," said Michael, approaching Eudocia, "between your sister and
myself there is a gulf impassable. If ever I can forgive her, it must
be when those sweet and tender eyes, that speak a heart all steeped in
gentleness and love, have smiled upon my hopes, and made me at peace
with all the world. Dearest Eudocia, will you accept the devotion of
my heart and life?"

He took her hand; it trembled in his grasp, but was not withdrawn. She
struggled for composure a moment, and then, resting her head upon his
shoulder, wept for joy.

The nuptials of Michael and Eudocia were soon celebrated. A brilliant
assemblage graced the old castle on the occasion; but long before the
solemnization, the count's younger daughter had fled to a convent to
conceal her anger and despair.

OBEYING ORDERS.

The "oldest inhabitant" perfectly remembers the Widow Trotter, who
used, many years ago, to inhabit a small wooden house away down in
Hanover Street, in somewhat close proximity to Salutation Alley. Well,
this widow was blessed with a son, who, like Goldsmith, and many other
men distinguished in after life, was the dunce of his class. Numerous
were the floggings which his stupidity brought upon him, and the road
to knowledge was with him truly a "wale of tears."

One day he came home, as usual, with red eyes and hands.

"O, you blockhead!" screamed his mother,--she was a bit of a virago,
Mrs. Trotter was,--"you've ben gettin' another lickin', I know."

"O, yes," replied young Mr. Trotter; "that's one uv the reg'lar
exercises--lickin' me. 'Arter I've licked Trotter,' sez the master,
'I'll hear the 'rithmetic class.' But, mother, to change the subject,
as the criminal said, when he found the judge was getting personal, is
there enny arrand I can do for you?"

"Yes," grumbled the widow; "only you're so eternal slow about every
thing you undertake--go get a pitcher of water, and be four years
about it, will ye?"

Bob Trotter took the pitcher, and wended his way in the direction of
the street pump; but he hadn't got far when he encountered his
friend, Joe Buffer, the mate of a vessel, issuing from his house,
dragging a heavy sea chest after him.

"Come Bob," said Joe, "bear a hand, and help us down to Long Wharf
with this."

"Well, so I would," answered Bob, "only you see mother sent me arter a
pitche