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"You are trying riddles with me, Tim." No, you mistake. I say she is your

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sister."

"And yours too," said Harry. "We are all sisters and brothers."

"But you are the son, and she is the daughter."

"We are all sons and daughters of Adam and Eve."

city which abounds in architectural beauties, which is honoured by the tombs of some of England's worthies, and still more honoured by being the burying-place of some of her kings. Other towns and cities may boast of their various excellences, but I doubt if any can compare with Winton in rare old buildings and antiquities, of which it is so full that one may almost fancy himself trans

"You both have the same father," urged ported back a few centuries, when the priests

Tim.

"God."

"But the same mother," said Tim.

chanted their Ave Maria more frequently than they do now, and almost think he is one of the monks, just turned out of bed at

"God is the father and mother of us all, midnight, with heavy head and sleepy eyes, Tim, my boy."

"You beat me, Harry; but I am not jesting. I see I must tell you a long story to convince you of what I say."

Tim then related his adventures after leaving home.

"You have indeed startled me, Tim," said Harry, when the narrative had ended. "I scarcely know whether it is the nightmare, whether I am dreaming, or what--" "It is all true, Harry. You have fortune and happiness before you."

"How strange, Tim! They will both be welcome. I have knocked about the world, but I have failed to find the one or the other. I have not been one of those lucky heroes who say, 'I want wealth, and I want happiness,' and are immediately served with the same."

"Nor I," said Tim.

"It was a wild fancy that drew me back to Peckfield. I had no reasons, but a longing to see old friends. Something seemed to whisper me back again."

"It was Providence!" said Tim.

THE END.

ST. CROSS CHURCH, WINCHESTER.* HA AVING occasion, a few days since, to visit the old city of Winton, I naturally felt more than usual interest in discovering some of its ancient historic places. I was impelled by that curiosity which every Englishman feels to know the ancient and medieval history of his country, and especially of its old towns and cities. Perhaps the most interesting of all is the history of the old English capital-the city wherein so many deeds, good and bad, have been done; the

* See also article in ONCE A WEEK, August 7th, 1869.

walking with a slow, measured pace in procession with his brother monks, to repeat prayers and chants to which he has been summoned by the tolling of the convent bell. To most men these temporary delusions are pleasant, but unfortunately they all vanish when, happening to look downwards, a pair of polished boots are seen; but so strong for the moment is the spell that your thoughts again revert to the old days, and you almost wish you had sandals on your feet, and, instead of a frock coat, a long, sober-coloured gown fitting loosely round the neck, and fastened at the waist by a girdle hanging down to the feet; and instead of a high hat, a monk's hood covering your tonsured head, and you almost think you would like even to feel a rough hairy shirt next your skin, so peaceful, happy, and self-denying does the life of a monk seem. But again the sight of boots recalls the fact to your mind that you do not live in those miscalled "good old times;" and when you calmly put the pros and the cons together, you are thankful that you live in the present and not in those priest-ridden days.

Being in the neighbourhood of St. Cross, I made a sally, towards the close of a wet afternoon, to see St. Cross Church. It was with mingled feelings of reverence and delight that I walked through the outer quadrangle and by the "Hundred Menne's Hall.” Then, passing beneath Beaufort's Tower, I reached the inner court, where I beheld the grand old church, which had stood for so many centuries, and which, according to the version of our conductor, would stand till the rooms of the Brethren, and, in his own the end of the world. I went directly to room, found Brother K. -a short, hale old man of fourscore and seven summers, who was exhibitor for the week.

At first he was

reluctant to turn out in the rain; but having | recognized a friend who accompanied me, all his scruples vanished, and his tongue ran as glibly as though he had half a pat of butter in his mouth. Almost the first words the old man spoke are remembered by us, from their unexpected appearance. They were "Well, zur, I an' my wife a' been together fur fifty-six years, six months and twenty days, an' I niver had a angry word wi' her yet." This declaration of Brother K. has been considered false by some, for the reason that they think it quite impossible that two should live together so long, and not have a sharp word. However, those who think little of his assertion do not know anything to the contrary, and hence I am willing to believe him.

It is needless to attempt to describe the church-it would only be tedious, and probably unendurable, to those who have studied it. Therefore, I will merely jot down a few of those beauties of the place which were especially directed to our attention as we hurried round it. We entered by the north porch, and were at once struck with admiration when we beheld the massive columns, which, we were told, were four feet thicker round than high-that is to say, fourteen feet in circumference and ten feet in height. Immediately inside the door we noticed some stones bearing the name of Humbert --relatives of the Rev. L. M. Humbert, who did so much for the good of the church and inhabitants generally. The remains of the worthy gentleman himself lie on the eastern side of the northern entrance. We then passed up the middle aisle, noticing the lofty ceiling, and other objects of interest. In each of the large pillars near the east end we noticed that a stone had been taken out and replaced; and, on tapping these stones, it was evident that they concealed some hollow place. How it was that these stones were overlooked when the church was being renovated a few years since may well be a subject of surprise, and it would seem likely that the Antiquarian Society would be amply rewarded for their trouble if they obtained an insight into these mysterious holes, which have apparently been closed so long. We were much pleased with the lantern, the east window, the Purbeck marble, and the elaborate canopied screen which divides the middle from the northern aisle of the choir. We visited the southern aisle, now used as a chapel by the

Brethren, who offer up their morning devotions there. On the south end of the transept is a tolerably bold delineation of the taking down of our Lord from the cross, covering the wall's entire surface. Time and darkness now pressed, and we were reluctantly compelled to hurry through the transept northward, stopping a moment to look at the ornaments of the northern aisle of the choir. of the choir. Thence we passed rapidly through the ambulatory, noticing the table of King Stephen, and came to the hall, or refectory. This hall conveys a good idea of what a banqueting-hall was in the olden time. Here the Brethren still sing their songs and quaff their ale on grand days.

"Merry it is in halle to hear the harpe,

The minstrelles synge, the jogelours carpe."

The minstrels' gallery still remains over the screen. An ancient Flemish triptych is placed at the upper end, representing St. Katharine, on the left side; the Holy Family, in the middle; and St. Barbara, on the right. This work has been put to the credit of Albert Dürer, but with little evidence of its authorship. On a raised dais at the same end of the room are some old black leathern jacks, which were used for beer. There are also some dilapidated candlesticks and saltcellars, said to have been used by Cardinal Beaufort. Handling one of these candlesticks, Brother K. said—“There, zur, they beant worth a ha'penny, be 'em now? They beant worth a ha'penny; an', zur, a lady offered fifty guineas for 'em; if she had offered a hundred she wouldn't have had 'em." In this hall the Brethren, on four days of the week, assemble to receive their hot dinners, which they carry to their own rooms. At eight o'clock each morning in summer, and nine o'clock in winter, they assemble for their daily allowance of beer. It may be surmised that they all appear in good time. By the time we had thus hurriedly looked over this refectory, our time was up, and we were obliged to depart; and after being wished "God-speed" by K., we retraced our steps, promising ourselves to have a renewal of the afternoon's pleasure.

Before I conclude, I should not forget to give Brother K. that praise which is deservedly his. His was no cross, surly voice, going over the interesting portions of the church as though he only had one story to tell to every visitor-word for word.

No,

Mr. K.'s voice was anything but that; it was pleasant, and humorous and lively, as, with pardonable pride, he told me of the "labour of love" which he performed in the restoration of the church. Although eighty years of age, this old man, who was by trade a mason, discovered and laid open to view the two lowest stained windows of the large east window, renovated the northern aisle of the choir in great part by himself, and did otherwise much to deserve the thanks of antiquarians, painters, sculptors, and the public generally. He was justly proud of what he had done, and several times he nudged me, and said "There, zur, d'ye think an old man over eighty year old could a' climbed up there, an' do all that there nearly by himself?" And then, when I expressed my doubt as to the possibility of such a feat being performed, he would give me another nudge, and confidentially utter the three words, significant in meaning"I did it!" Once, so beyond himself was he with pleasure in thinking of what he had done, and of what he could do even now, that, in giving me a nudge, he fairly knocked me off a step in the church. He was exceedingly proud of the silver cross he wore on his coat, and he informed us that the crosses which the Brethren wore were over seven hundred years old. I have been told the usual way of addressing visitors is "lovee dear"-probably that term is only applied to the ladies; I certainly did not hear it.

The old custom of giving bread and beer to travellers is still maintained, though I doubt if all those who partake of it are bonâ fide wayfarers. It may be obtained at the porter's lodge.

SKETCHES OF IRISH LIFE.-II.

HUNTING THE HARE.

[The scene of this sketch is laid in the county Antrim, Ireland.]

THOUG HOUGH upsetting his new antagonist did not occupy William long, it occupied him quite long enough to allow the sportsman to get within about a hundred yards of him; and if the latter gentleman continued to gain ground as he had, two more minutes would be sure to bring him within easy range of the dogs. Besides this, I was completely exhausted, and was determined at all hazards to run very little farther. I had just made this determination, when

Bill came up with me, after the peaceful disposal of the man and the pot-stick.

"Can ye jump any?" said he, hastily, as we ran together neck and neck.

"A little," I replied; "but if it is a big one, I won't be able to run much after it."

"It's all right," said he―" if yer able to jump this race down here, a think it'll bother the boys. Head this way a bit. Tam, take the left a bit, an' we'll jump the river."

No sooner did Tam change his course according to Bill's direction, than he tripped over something and fell heavily to the ground. Our pursuers gave a shout of delight, and redoubled their exertions. When Tam had scrambled up and began to run again, the sportsman was within fifty or sixty yards of him; and the fellow actually raised his gun and threatened to fire upon him if he would not stop. Of course, Tam paid no attention to this whatever; and the keeper, seeing that he was gaining rapidly upon him, gave up the thought, if he ever entertained it, of treating him to a dose of number four.

The river, which we were fast approaching, was a sedgy watercourse running through a meadow, and was about fifteen feet wideor nearly so.

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"Now, Misther folly in behind me, an' leap after me in the same place, but not till I'm rightly over. Tam, take it you over thonder, a piece farther up. Whoop! thonder's the dog over, like the divil's whirlwin'. Now, boys, clear it like two-year-owl's."

I dropped behind Bill as required, thereby gaining a moment's breathing space, and with desperate determination nerved myself for the leap. I saw him gathering himself, taking a furious race, and bounding clearly but barely enough over the watercourse, alighting on a lower part of the bank on the opposite side. Now was my time. Pressing down my hat, and drawing a long breath, I came up to the jump at top speed, and striking for the place Bill had rose from, sprang wildly from the bank.

I could scarcely tell you what occurred for the next few moments. I have a faint recollection of galloping a few yards on my hands and knees, hearing a loud splash, and falling on the ground breathless and quite exhausted. I have a pretty clear recollection of seeing Tam, who had happily jumped at a very shallow part of the river, quietly wading towards the bank, up to his middle in water. I have a very distinct recollection of Bill raising me from the ground, and me

being able to stand just in time to see one of the prettiest sights that I ever had the gratification of witnessing.

The sportsman, now sure of his victims, came up to the jump with a look of angry resolution. He did not choose a place to spring from, but kept his eye rather on us than on the leap.

It was not till within a few yards of the bank that he saw the task before him, and being then both unable and unwilling to stop, he made a headlong dash for the other side. It was a brave attempt, and but for the encumbrance of the gun, would have probably succeeded.

As it was, he alighted against the brink, and, falling backward, disappeared from our sad eyes in the bosom of the murmuring

stream.

His follower, who was about ten yards behind him, saw the catastrophe too late to save himself. He tried hard to stop, but, alas, alas! in doing so he trotted himself right into the river, and in another moment was floundering and sputtering in the arms of his noble and approved good master and companion. For a little while each held on by the other-for neither could swim a stroke-and splashed, and wallowed, and spouted like juvenile whales, only a trifle more in earnest; but finding the embrace unprofitable, they let go, and began to make exertions each on his own account. Here began another piece of sputtering and floundering, varied by an occasional disappearance, such as is beyond my power to describe. For fully two minutes they puffed, and gulped, and bubbled about in their efforts to make the bank, and then at length the sportsman obtained a hold of a projecting sod- a position which, I need scarcely say, he retained till he got himself scrambled out. But in this scrambling out was another difficult and rather ludicrous task. The bank was too high for him to get his leg placed upon it, and consequently he had to draw himself out as best he could, after the manner of an otter.

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The difficulty of the task, too, was increased by the fact that his never-deserting associate was bravely and determinedly holding on by his coat tails. After a little while of frantic scrambling and slipping back, they at last managed, however, to get their feet once more upon terra firma. Bill and Tam and I were standing by, enjoying a very hearty laugh at their struggles to get

out of the water; so that when that consummation so devoutly to be wished was gained, their love towards us was by no means increased.

It was not increased, either, by the truth that, from the moment of their first disappearance under the rippling wavelet, their guns were invisible, and had not since been

seen.

Nor was it much increased by the fact that Tam, knowing what had become of the guns, turned quietly to the sportsman as he stood dripping, saturated, and shivering on the bank, and benevolently said—

"A say, mister, a'll give ye a shot at thou dog.”

"A'll make yiz pay fur this, ye mudherin' villains!" was the reply, as soon as he had shook off the chill, and gained breath enough to speak.

"Wudn't a wee half un help yiz, boys?" inquired Bill.

Bill was in earnest, and was about to produce a small flask, which he denominated his " rattley," and which he invariably carried on such occasions; but the keeper evidently thought he was mocking him, for he answered the inquiry by rushing at Bill in a furious passion, and aiming a blow at that gentleman's proboscis, which, had it succeeded, would inevitably have materially altered the form and position of that most necessary appendage. But Bill, by some means, knocked off the blow; upon which the keeper closed with him, with the apparent purpose of giving him his share of the bathing. At the same time, the second keeper followed his leader by attacking Tam with a similar design.

Now, as I before intimated, both the keepers were stout and very active men. The sportsman, indeed, was quite as big a man as Bill; and keeper number two was considerably a bigger man than Tam. So that, all things considered, they were pretty well matched. At first it seemed to me that Bill was getting the worst of the grap. pling; for though his opponent was unable to throw him, he was gradually forcing him next the brink and towards it. Tam, for a few seconds, got the better of his antagonist; but the keeper, by superior strength and endurance, soon gained the advantage, and seemed on the fair way of accommodating Tam with the cold bath which it had caused him so much merriment to see the keepers subjected to a minute before.

I did not feel justified in interfering but as a last resort, so I stood back and watched the struggle, determined to do my utmost to save either of them, should my assistance appear absolutely necessary.

The contest between Bill and the sportsman was hot. Twice or thrice they fell, only to rise again, and go at it fiercer than ever. I noticed, however, that Bill was comparatively cool, while the other was in a perfect frenzy of rage. For the third time the keeper worked Bill backwards towards the edge of the river, plainly with a desperate determination this time to hurl him in, despite of everything. At this moment, Bill caught a glance of the position of his fraternal relative and the other keeper. The position was that, in a dozen seconds more, Tam would, to all appearances, have been splashing about in the stream. Closer and closer to the brink were Tam and Bill forced, and both seemed unable to save themselves. I was about to step forward and do what I could for Bill, when suddenly my services became unnecessary. With a strength_that threw all the previous wrestling into insignificance-a strength that seemed to me almost superhuman-Bill changed positions with the keeper, and, grasping him by the throat, shook him as a dog would a rat, and precipitated him headlong into the water

course.

I never had seen, and never again wish to see, Bill so angry as at that moment. His whole frame shook as he glared at his opponent struggling in the water; and, as he turned to dismiss Tam's foe, I could see that his face was the picture of ferocity.

Tam had managed to slip to the ground to save himself, and his foe was now upon him, striving hard to remain uppermost.

Bill took a few hasty strides towards them, and grasping the man by the nape of the neck and an unmentionable part of the unmentionables, carried him thus to the brink, and dropped him in-just as a person would a cur dog.

This being settled, we made our way quietly homeward, and left them to get out as best they could. I must mention, however, that we observed the man who had endeavoured to intercept us, cautiously hanging about at some distance, otherwise we should not have left them in their precarious situation.

Nothing worthy of note occurred on our homeward walk. Bill did not utter a syl

lable until he had arrived at his own door, and Tam's short leap had given him a stronger inclination to shiver than to indulge in any garrulity. So ended our morning's coursing.

For a closer intimacy with myself and friends, I refer my readers to another sketch which will shortly appear, descriptive of our day's adventures with the guns and setters.

ON

OZONE.

NE of the most interesting discourses of the season at the Royal Institution was Professor Odling's lecture on Ozone, the more popular features of which are summarized in this paper.

Ozone was discovered by Schönbein, in 1840, when experimenting with the then newly-invented battery of Sir Wm. Grovean instrument still recognized as yielding a current superior, in respect of joint quantity and intensity, to the current yielded by any other electromotor available for general use. Ozone was recognized by Schönbein successively, as a minute constituent of the oxygen gas resulting from the electrolysis of water effected by a current of high tension; as a minute constituent of air or oxygen through which electric discharges have taken place; and as a minute constituent of air in which moist phosphorus has been undergoing slow oxidation. To Schönbein then is due the great merit of recognizing ozone as a distinct form of matter, having an identity of its own by whatsoever means prepared

-as also the merit of discovering the most important means for the production of ozone, and of establishing its principal properties and reactions.

The general properties of ozone are those of an active oxygenant. Thus, like chlorine and peroxide of nitrogen, it bleaches colouring matters, corrodes fabrics, tarnishes or otherwise attacks metals, and liberates iodine from iodide of potassium. Its special properties are its characteristic pungent odour, its destructibility by a moderate heat, and its non-manifestation of any acidulous reaction.

The nature of ozone was at first the subject of much speculation, Schönbein inclining to the view that it was a new elementary body, and a component of nitrogen. But in 1845, Marignac, in a series of most exact experiments, made partly in association with De la Rive, brought the question.

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