6.

Darker it grew; and darker fears
Came o'er her troubled mind;

When now a short quick step she hears
Come patting close behind.

7.

She turned, it stopped! nought could she see Upon the gloomy plain!

But as she strove the sprite to flee,

She heard the same again.

8.

Now terror seized her quaking frame;
For where the path was bare,

The trotting ghost kept on the same—
She muttered many a prayer.

9.

Yet once again amidst her fright
She tried what sight could do;

When, through the cheating glooms of night,
A monster stood in view.

10.

Regardless of whate'er she felt,

It followed down the plain;

She owned her sins, and down she knelt,
And said her prayers again.

11.

Then on she sped, and hope grew strong,
The white park-gate in view ;

Which, pushing hard, so long it swung,

That ghost and all passed through.

12.

Loud fell the gate against the post,
Her heart-strings like to crack;
For much she feared the grisly ghost
Would leap upon her back.

13.

Still on, pat, pat, the goblin went,
As it had done before;

Her strength and resolution spent,

She fainted at the door.

14.

Out came her husband, much surprised,
Out came her daughter dear;
Good-natured souls, all unadvised

Of what they had to fear.

15.

The candle's gleam pierced through the night
Some short space o'er the green,
And there the little trotting sprite

Distinctly might be seen.

16.

An ass's foal had lost its dam
Within the spacious park;

And simple as the playful lamb,
Had followed in the dark.

17.

No goblin he, no imp of sin-
No crimes had ever known;
They took the shaggy stranger in,
And reared him as their own.

18.

His little hoofs would rattle round

Upon the cottage floor,

The matron learned to love the sound
That frightened her before.

19.

A favourite the ghost became,

And 'twas his fate to thrive ;
And long he lived and spread his fame,
And kept the joke alive.

20.

For many a laugh went through the vale,
And some conviction too;
Each thought some other goblin tale
Perhaps was just as true.

A STORM AT SEA: THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.

[Spell and write]

hurricane, destitute, passenger, companion, heightening, guarantee, appearance, unmanageable.

'We left Peterhead,' he said, 'with about half a cargo of coal, for we had lightened ship a day or two before, and the gale freshened as the night came on. We made all tight, however; and though the snow-drift was so blinding in the thick of the shower that I could scarce see my hand before me, and though it soon began to blow great guns, we had given the land a good offing, and the hurricane blew the right way. Just as we were loosening from the quay, a poor young woman, much

knocked up, with a child in her arms, had come to the vessel's side, and begged hard of the master to take her aboard. She was a soldier's wife, and was travelling to join her husband at Fort George; but she was already worn out and penniless, she said; and now, as a snowstorm threatened to block up the roads, she could neither stay where she was, nor pursue her journey. Her infant, too, she was sure, if she tried to force her way through the hills, would perish in the snow. The master, though unwilling to cumber us with a passenger in such weather, was induced, out of pity for the poor destitute creature, to take her aboard. And she was now with her child, all alone, below in the cabin.

'I was stationed ahead on the outlook beside the foresail-horse. The night had grown pitch-dark, and the lamp in the binnacle threw just light enough through the gray of the shower to shew me the master at the helm. He looked more anxious, I thought, than almost I had ever seen him before, though I have been with him in bad weather; and all at once, I saw he had got company, and strange company, too, for such a night— there was a woman moving round him, with a child in her arms. I could see her as distinctly as ever I saw anything-now on the one side, now on the other-at one time full in the light, at another half lost in the darkness. That, I said to myself, must be the soldier's wife and her child; but how, in the name of wonder, can the master allow a woman to come on deck in such a night as this, when we ourselves have just enough ado to keep footing? He takes no notice of her either, but keeps looking on, quite in his wont, at the binnacle.

"Master," I said, stepping up to him, "the woman had surely better go below."

"What woman, Jack?" said he.

may be sure, is nowhere else.”

"Our passenger, you

'I looked round, and found he was quite alone, and that the companion-head was hasped down. There came a cold sweat all over me.

"Jack," said the master, "the night is getting worse, and the roll of the waves heightening every moment. I'm convinced, too, our cargo is shifting. As the last sea struck us, I could hear the coals rattle below; and see how stiffly we heel to the larboard. Say nothing, however, to the men, but have all your wits about you; and look, meanwhile, to the boat-tackle and the oars. I have seen a boat live in as bad a night as this."

'As he spoke, a blue light from above glimmered on the deck. We looked up, and saw a dead-fire sticking to the cross-trees.

"It's all over with us now, master," said I.

"Nay, man," replied the master, in his easy, humorous way, which I always liked well enough, except in bad weather, and then I see his humour is served out like his extra grog, to keep up hearts that have cause to get low. "Nay, man," he said, "we can't afford to let your grandmother board us to-night. If you will insure me against the shifting coal, I'll be your guarantee against the deadlight. Why, it's as much a natural appearance, man, as a flash of lightning. Away to your berth, and keep up a good heart; we can't be far off now; when once past the Skerries, the swell will take off; and then, in two short hours, we may be snug within the Sutors."

'I had scarcely reached my berth ahead when a heavy sea struck us on the starboard-quarter, almost throwing us on our beam-ends. I could hear the rushing of the coals below, as they settled on the larboard side; and