THE WELSH HARPER.
From the court-yard, a wicket led into a green wooded lane, and as the three rambled forth, careless whither they roved, sure of finding beauty in all around, they came at a turn of the path in view of a strange object. It was a very old man, seated beneath an oak tree; his hat lay on the violet bank on which he was placed, and he was playing a Welsh air on a Welsh harp. He was no beggar; his dress was decent, and his figure robust. When his song was ended, for he sang as well as played, the ladies went up to him, and heard his story. He was one of the few harpers that were yet to be found in Wales; the sad remnants of those aged bards, who, in times of yore, were so dear and so common in that land of vales and mountains. His cot, on the brow of a cliff, far away among the rocky wooded heights, had been blown down one stormy night. It was old, he said, like himself; and, like himself, no longer able to withstand the tempest's power. "So, lady, I am come, in my old age, to seek a shelter in these more peaceful valleys."—"And have you found a refuge worthy your grey hairs?"—"Aye, lady, indeed have I; our young Lord Glenmore has given me a cot, in that snug nook, in the deep forest; there, where the clear spring trickles, and the high trees meet."—"You speak like a poet, good harper."—"I was one once," he said, and sighed, and then played a soft wild dirge on his harp. The tears came into his eyes, and into those of his hearers: on a sudden, he dashed away his tears, and his fingers struck a sprightly measure. "Why should I weep," he cried, as he finished the gay air, "I, who have so much to make me rejoice? Come to my cottage, lady; my dame will welcome you, and you will see what comfort my young Lord has heaped on me. He is young and gay, but he does not forget his poor tenants; he has the power and the will to do good; he wrote, with his own hands, his orders for my comfort; it was little trouble to him; but how great, how very great the blessing to us! Oh! if all lords were so thoughtful and so active!"
THE HARPER'S COTTAGE.
The ladies did not forget the old harper; and not many days passed before they sallied forth to search for his lowly cottage. They wound through the mazes of the wood, treading on dry leaves and crackling boughs, and scaring the squirrel from its nook, and the dove from her lone haunts. The sound of the gurgling stream, dashing down the mountain's side, guided their steps, and drew them to the very spot. The harper and his aged wife were seated by their blazing fire, and the ladies were soon seated with them. Both looked cheerful and happy, though both had known much sorrow; but, just ready to finish the journey of life, they said they had done with this world's care. Nothing can be more cheering than the sight of a gay old age! It seems to speak a long and blameless life; it seems to speak, a body unhurt by vice and folly, a mind unstained by crime or guilty thoughts. "And have you no children?"—"We have had three: two gallant boys, who died for their country; and our youngest son is now a brave sailor."—"And you see him sometimes?"—"Always, when he can come to us; and he never comes with empty hands: that shawl, his mother wears, he brought her; and this purse with gold in it, he gave me. Oh! he is a dear good boy."
The happy parents were never tired of talking of this loved child; and Kate and Blanche smiled and wept, as they heard of the comfort and joy, which a kind son could dispense to his aged parents. As they slowly walked home, they spoke of all they had seen and felt, and the good Aunt made many remarks. "You see, my dears, how the pains and weakness of old age can be soothed, by the love and duty of tender children; you see that when all other feelings have passed away a parent's love survives. Ah! nor time nor absence can destroy a parent's love! Children should bear this in mind, and omit no chance of giving joy to those, who perhaps depend on them for all their joy, who once were the source of all their own."
THE POACHER.
In the wildest part of the wood, just where it bounded the heath, the party were startled by seeing a man rush out before them. He had a gun in his hand, and would have fled; but, in his fright, he had broken his wooden leg, and soon fell to the ground.
