say, is better than no loaf, and so- three hundred pounds and a house and lot-"
" And gentle Mr. Anson into the bargain, would be a comfortable lot for any lady Surely the girls in Hookam ought not to hesitate, for the temptation is very great !" " An't it ?" exclaimed Johnny, in a tone of exultation. "I think it is !" he added, answering his own question. " It is n't every gal that gets such a chance. Now I'll tell you a secret," continued he, lowering his voice-" if you'll have me, it's all your own, me and the fiddle, the three hundred pound, the bake-shop, and all !" “ The impudent fellow !" thought Lucy ; but she had the politeness and good sense to suppress that thought. A lady is never seriously offended with the swain who offers to marry her ; for however humble may be the source from which the proposition emanates, it is still a compliment. Lucy's list of conquests was tolerably long for blooming nineteen, and the name of Johnny would add but little dignity to the train ; yet truth obliges me to record that a slight blush, and a very slight toss of the head, with a glance at the mirror, showed that the tribute of admiration was not unwelcome even from our hero. She civilly, but peremptorily declined the honour which he had intended for her, and adding " You must excuse me now, sir, I have other engagements," left the room. " Other engagements !' " thought Johnny, " that means that she is going to be married to somebody else. What a dunce was I not to speak first !" And he retired, deeply chagrined, and not a little puzzled, that a young lady of marriageable age and sound discretion , who was not worth a penny, should refuse a neat cottage, a bake-shop , and three hundred pounds, with the slight incumbrance of himself and a violin, for no better reason than that she had made a previous engagement with another gentleman! Had there been a mill-pond at Mrs. Atherton's front door, our hero would undoubtedly have drowned himself; and it is altogether probable that he would even have gone out of his way to seek the means of self-destruction, had he not prudently reflected that the estate of Andrew Anson, deceased, was not yet fully administered, nor the leather bags emptied. To leave this treasure vacant, and the bake-shop unoccupied, would have been rashness. But he felt unhappy. His heart, which had been as light as a hot roll, was now as heavy as dough ; and being little disposed to mingle in company, he determined to mount his horse, and take a short ride. How far he went,
