As soon as he had disappeared within the hall door. O'Gorman sprang to his feet, and, drawing the parasol from the breast of his coat, tendered it, and his arm, to the young lady, saying, with the greatest exultation, "Hoaxed, by jingo! alas! poor Sweeny. Come, Miss Kate, your brother is so taken up with Miss O'Donnell, that he can't attend to any thing, or any body. Never mind your mother; she can't bawl out at us, you know; and if she attempted to scold, she'd be voted out. I've got Sharpe's gig—come, jump up, and we'll have such a day! Oh! but havn't I done them all brown! Hurrah for Howth, and the sky over it! Oh! you little darling," added he, restraining himself with considerable difficulty from giving her a hug and a kiss, as she laughingly complied with his invitation, and seated herself with him in the gig, just as Sweeny returned, protesting himself unable to find the parasol, "oh, it got tired waiting for you, and came of itself. But I say, Sweeny, capital receipt that of yours for sore shins; quite cured mine in a moment—first application. Hollo! here, you will probably want a pocket handkerchief during the day; I'll lend you one;" and Bob threw him his own. "I picked his pocket in the drawing-room," said he, turning to his delighted companion; "I was determined that he should go back for something; and here's yours, which I secured also. Now, then, if we follow those rumbling machines, we shall be smothered with dust, so we had better show them the way." Chick, chick—and poor Mrs O'Brien could scarcely believe her eyes when she saw her daughter whirl past her in a gig with one of the most incorrigible scapegraces in the University.
He took good care that they should not be recalled, for he was out of sight in a twinkling; nor did the party get a view of him again until they had passed Clontarf, when they found him walking the horse quietly, in order that they might over-take him.
But I must postpone detailing the subsequent events of that memorable day until the next number, having already occupied more than my share of space.
Naisi.
[SUMMER FLOWERS,]
A CITIZEN'S LAMENT.
Away with summer flow'rs,
Twine not the wreath for me,
Unbind the myrtle from the rose,
And pansy, emblem of repose,
Far let them scattered be;
The best, the loveliest, let them part,
Their very sweetness breaks my heart.
Away with summer flow'rs,
Let sunshine cease to glow,
Bring back the days of sombre hue,
And heav'n without a glimpse of blue,
And earth in vest of snow.
Then weave the green perfuméd bough
In fadeless verdure for my brow.
To see the length'ning days,
To feel the glowing hours,
As step by step, the smiling spring
Steals on her bright and glorious wing,
And strews our path with flow'rs;
This may be joy, but me it sends
Warnings of banishment to friends.
Soon as the rose's bloom
Breaks up the social tie,
And those whom winter gather'd round
The cheering hearth, no more are found,
But east and west they fly;
Some roam the mountain, some the deep,
But, ah! leave those at home to weep.
'Midst winter's sullen blast,
How many a friendly band
Cheered the dark moments as they passed,
And bid me think they fled too fast
While circled hand in hand;
But summer breaks the charming spell,
And makes me feel, I lov'd too well!