that of the few respectable persons to whose houses he had obtained admission, either by his talents for singing, or the comparative propriety of his conduct. Day after day he laboured in his precarious avocation. The changes of the seasons were not now admitted as excuses. The storm did not drive him to the wine-shed, and the rain did not confine him to his hut. Day after day, and often night after night, he was to be found in the field-on the mountains -by the sides of the rain-courses-on the shores of the torrent. He rarely indulged himself even in the recreation of meeting his mistress, for whom all this labour was submitted to. Gold, not as a means but as an end, seemed to be his thought by day and his dream by night, the object and end of his existence. When they did meet in darkness, and loneliness, and mystery, it was but to exchange a few hurried sentences of hope and comfort, and affected reliance upon fortune. On these occasions tears, and tremblings, and hysterical sobbings, sometimes told, on her part, at once the hollowness of her words and the weakness of her constitution; but on his all was, or seemed to be, enthusiasm and steadfast expectation. Days and weeks, however, passed by-moons rolled away-the year was drawing to its wane, and a great part of the enormous sum was still in the womb of the mountains. Day by day, week by week, and month by month, the hopes of the mineralo became fainter. He could no longer bestow the comfort which did not cheer even his dreams. Gloomy and sad, he could only strain his mistress in his arms, without uttering a word when she ventured an inquiry respecting his progress, and then hurry away to resume, mechanically, his hopeless task. It is a strange, sometimes an awful thing, to look into the mystery of the female mind. Lelia's health had received a shock from the circumstances we have recorded, which left her cheek pale, and her limbs weak, for many months; and to this physical infirmity was now added the effect of those dumb, but too eloquent, interviews with her lover. The lower he sunk in despondency, however, and the more des perate grew their affairs, the higher her spirits rose, as if to quell and control their fortune. Her hopes seemed to grow in proportion with his fears, and the strength which deserted him went over as an ally and supporter to her weakness. Even her bodily health received its direction from her mind. Her nerves seemed to recover their tone, her cheek its hue, and her eye its brilliancy. The cold and sluggish imagination of a man is unacquainted with half the resources of a woman in such circumstances. Disappointed in her dependence on fortune and casualty, Lelia betook herself to the altars and gods of her people! Saints and martyrs were by turns invoked; vows were offered up, and pilgrimages and religious watchings performed. Then came dreams and prodigies into play, and omens, and auguries. Sortes were wrested from the pages of Dante, and warnings and commands translated from the mystic writings of the sky "The stars which are the poetry of heaven." The year touched upon its close; and the sum which the gold-seeker had amassed, although great almost to a miracle, was still far-very far, from sufficient. The last day of the year arrived, ushered in by storm, and thunderings, and lightnings; and the evening fell cold and dark upon the despairing labours of Francesco. He was on the side of the mountain opposite Niccoli's house; and, as daylight died in the valley, he saw, with inexpressible bitterness of soul, by the number of lights in the windows, that the fete was not forgotten. Some trifling success, however, induced him, like a drowning man grasping at a straw, to continue his search. He was on the spot indicated by a dream of his enthusiastic mistress; and she had conjured him not to abandon the attempt till the bell of the distant church should silence their hopes for ever. His success continued. He was working with the pickaxe, and had discovered a very small perpendicular vein; and it was just possible that this, although altogether inadequate in itself, might be crossed at a greater depth by a horizontal one, and thus form one of the gruppi, or nests, in which the ore is plentiful and easily extracted. To work, however, was difficult, and to work long, impossible. His strength was almost exhausted; the storm beat fiercely in his face; and the darkness increased every moment. His heart wholly failed him: his limbs trembled; a cold perspiration bedewed his brow; and, as the last rays of daylight departed from the mountain-side he fell senseless upon the ground. How long he remained in this state he did not know; but he was recalled to life by a sound resembling, as he imagined, a human cry. The storm howled more wildly than ever along the side of the mountain, and it was now pitch-dark; but on turning round his head he saw, at a little distance above where he lay, a small, steady light. Francesco's heart began to quake. The light advanced towards him, and he perceived that it was borne by a figure singularly wild, where the rocks were piled around in combinations at once fantastic and sublime, it was not wonderful that the light carried by his mistress should be wholly invisible to him, even had it been much nearer than was by this time probable. Far less was it surprising that the shouts which ever and anon he uttered should not reach her ear; for he was on the lee-side of the storm, which raved among the cliffs with a fury that might have drowned the thunder. Even to the practised feet of Francesco the route, without the smallest light to guide his steps, was dangerous in the extreme; and to the occupation thus afforded to his thoughts it was perhaps owing that he reached Niccoli's house in a state of mind to enable him to acquit himself in a manner not derogatory to the dignity of manhood. "Niccoli," said he, on arrayed in white from head to foot. "Lelia!" | again to descend the mountain. In a place so cried he in amazement, mingled with superstitious terror, as he recognized the features of his young fair mistress. "Waste not time in words," said she, "much may yet be done, and I have the most perfect assurance that now at least I am not deceived. Up, and be of good heart! Work, for here is light. I will sit down in the shelter, bleak though it be, of the cliff, and aid you with my prayers, since I cannot with my hands." Francesco seized the axe, and stirred, half with shame, half with admiration, by the courage of the generous girl, resumed his labour with new vigour. "Be of good heart," continued Lelia, "and all will yet be well. Bravely-bravely done!-be sure the saints have heard us!" Only once she uttered anything resembling a complaint "It is so cold!" said she, "make haste, dearest, for I cannot find my way home, if I would, without the light." By-and-by she re-entering the room, "I have come to return you peated more frequently the injunction to "make haste." Francesco's heart bled while he thought of the sufferings of the sick and delicate girl on such a night, in such a place; and his blows fell desperately on the stubborn rock. He was now at a little distance from the spot where she sat, and was just about to beg her to bring the light nearer, when she spoke again. Make haste-make haste!" she said, "the time is almost come-I shall be wanted-I am wanted-I can stay no longerfarewell!" Francesco looked up, but the light was already gone. It was so strange, this sudden desertion! If determined to go, why did she go alone?— aware, as she must have been, that his remaining in the dark could be of no use. Could it be that her heart had changed, the moment her hopes had vanished? It was a bitter and ungenerous thought; nevertheless it served to bridle the speed with which Francesco at first sprung forward to overtake his mistress. He had not gone far, however, when a sudden thrill arrested his progress. His heart ceased to beat, he grew faint, and would have fallen to the ground, but for the support of a rock against which he staggered. When he recovered he retraced his steps as accurately as it was possible to do in utter darkness. He knew not whether he found the exact spot on which Lelia had sat, but he was sure of the surrounding localities; and, if she was still there, her white dress would no doubt gleam even through the thick night which surrounded her. With a lightened heart-for, compared with the phantom of the mind which had presented itself, all things seemed endurable-he began thanks for the trial you have allowed me. I have failed, and, in terms of the engagement between us, I relinquish my claims to your daughter's hand." He would then have retired as suddenly as he had entered; but old Niccoli caught hold of his arm:-"Bid us farewell," said he, in a tremulous voice; "go not in anger. Forgive me for the harsh words I used when we last met. I have watched you, Francesco, from that day-and-" He wiped away a tear as he looked upon the soiled and neglected apparel, and the haggard and ghastly face, of the young man-"No matter-my word is plighted-farewell.-Now call my daughter," added he, "and I pray God that the business of this night end in no ill!" Francesco lingered at the door. He would fain have seen but the skirt of Lelia's mantle before departing! "She is not in her room!" cried a voice of alarm. Francesco's heart quaked. Presently the whole house was astir. The sound of feet running here and there was heard, and agitated voices called out her name. The next moment the old man rushed out of the room, and, laying both his hands upon Francesco's shoulders, looked wildly in his face. "Know you aught of my daughter?" said he: "Speak, I conjure you, in the name of the blessed Saviour! Tell me that you have married her, and I will forgive and bless you! Speak!-will you not speak? A single word! Where is my daughter? Where is my Lelia?— my life-my light-my hope-my child—my child!" The mineralo started, as if from a dream, and looked round, apparently without comprehending what had passed. A strong shudder then shook his frame for an instant. "Lights!" said he, "torches-every one of you! Follow me!" and he rushed out into the night. He was speedily overtaken by the whole of the company, amounting to more than twelve men, with lighted torches, that flared like meteors in the storm. As for the leader himself, he seemed scarcely able to drag one limb after the other, and he staggered to and fro, like one who is drunken with wine. THE PARTITION OF THE EARTH. "Take ye the world! I give it ye for ever," The earth like brothers, as ye please, between ye." All who had hands took what they could: the needy They at length reached the place he sought; white was seen at the base of the cliff. It was She After a time the childless old man went to seek out the object of his daughter's love; but Francesco was never seen from that fatal night. A wailing sound is sometimes heard to this day upon the hills, and the peasants say that it is the voice of the mineralo seeking his mistress among the rocks; and every dark and stormy night the lamp of Lelia is still seen upon the mountain, as she lights her phantomlover in his search for gold. Such is the story of the storm-lights of Anzasca, and the only part of it which is mine is the translation into the language of civilized men of the sentiments of a rude and ignorant people. LEITCH RITCHIE, Seized on the woods for chase, and he enjoy'd 'em. To get his share the merchant took all sly ways: "Ah, woe is me! 'mid bounty so unbounded, GOD AND HEAVEN. The silver cord in twain is snapped, The golden bowl is broken, The mortal mould in darkness wrapped, The words funereal spoken; The tomb is built, or the rock is cleft, The tears are shed that mourned the dead, The twilight dun hath veiled the sun, And hope's sweet dreamings shaded: And the thoughts of joy that were planted deep O what is left-but heaven! SONG. Yellow, yellow leaves! THE BITTER WEDDING: A SWISS LEGEND. BY J. R. WYSS. 1 One fine summer morning, many hundred years ago, young Berthold set out with a very heavy heart from his alpine hut, with the view of reaching in the evening the beautiful valley of Siebenthal, where stood his native village, and where he designed to be an unknown and silent guest at the dancing and festivity of certain merry-makers. "Ah, heavens!" sighed he, "it will be a bitter wedding: had I died last spring it were better with me now." "Fiddle faddle!" exclaimed a snarling voice from the roadside. "Fiddle faddle! Where Master Almerich touches his fiddle there it goes merrily there is the hurly-burly, dirling the bottoms out of the tubs and pitchers! Good morning, my child! Come, cheer up, my hearty, and let us trudge on together in good fellowship!" The young herdsman had stopped when he first heard the croaking voice, and now he could not speak for laughing. An odd-looking dwarfish figure, mounted upon one leg and a half, and propped upon a crutch, with a nose as long as one's thumb, made half-a-dozen wry faces as he hobbled up quite out of breath from a foot-path on the left side of the road. Behind the dwarf trailed an enormous fiddle, on which lay a large wallet,-appurtenances which seemed to be attached to the little odd figure by way of ballast, lest the rush of the wind down the valley should sweep it away. "Good morning!" Berthold at last roared out; "you are a merry fellow, Master Fiddler, and shall be a comfort to me to-day. In spite of my misfortunes I could not help laughing at the sight of you and your hugeous fiddle. Take it not amiss; a laugh has been a rare thing with me for many a day.' "Has it indeed," rejoined the dwarf, "and yet so young! Perhaps you are heart-sick, my son?" "Aye, aye," replied Master Almerich, "I thought you were going to the dance, my hearty. I heard you crying out of a bitter wedding, and I thought to myself, Aha! he does not get the right one."" "Ah! that's true enough," replied Berthold; "he does not get the right one,-that HildeMaster Almerich, as you seem to be going the brand. I will tell you the whole matter, same way, if I understood you aright." "Ah, yes, good heavens!" sighed the dwarf; "surely, surely, if I had only got a pair of stout legs; look you here, my dear child, what a miserable stump is this for crawling down the mountain! I am asthmatic too, and my throat has been enlarging these last fifty years; and that wallet has galled my back sore all Heaven knows when I shall get to the wedding! yesterday in climbing over the rough hillsother side of the mountain, that, thought I to There was such a talking of that feast on the myself, I will go thither also and make some money; so I took my fiddle and began to crawl hausted, and now I must lay me down here by up the ascent; yesterday I became quite ex Tell the side of the road and submit to fate. me all about the wedding when you return, my hearty,if the wolves have not swallowed or hunger killed me before that time." With these words the dwarf, apparently exhausted, sunk down with a deep and melancholy sigh on the nearest stone, threw his bundle on if to take a last farewell of young Berthold, the grass, and stretched out his bony hand as who in silence leaned upon his staff, gazing on the fiddler and quite unable to comprehend what ailed him. sink! you have left all your gay spirits at home. 'Master," began the herdsman, "how you Although it is a weary journey for me as well and fiddle, so I may enjoy your company on as you, I will yet endeavour to carry your wallet the road. You must really hear what presses relief in speaking it out, and you will have upon my soul,-perhaps I may obtain some some pithy word of comfort for me.' The dwarf thanked him heartily for his kind fiddle to the stout shoulders of the herdsoffer, and quickly transferred his wallet and tune, and trudged gaily on by the side of Berman, then took his crutch, whistled a merry thold. the herdsman; "but I will be as brief as pos"It is a long story, this wedding," begun sible, for it still grieves me to the heart when I think about it, and whoever can understand it 47 at all, understands it soon,-my sufferings | dance; the fiddle runs off, and Master Almerich will never be at an end, though I should talk is starving here!" the whole day about it. "In the village there, below us, old Bernhard has a pretty sweet girl of a daughter, Siegelind; he has lived for many years in a nice little cottage, and his wife Gertrude with him, close by the stream, where the road strikes off into the wood. Their employment is to make wooden spoons for the herdsmen, by which, and the help of a goat and a couple of sheep, they gain a scanty livelihood. "Last winter, having gone thither and got some ashen spoons and cups nicely cut, I thought with myself: That will do exactly, my father is already old, and sends me with the cattle to the mountain in spring, and if I only behave there as becomes a herdsman, I descend in autumn and marry Siegelind, and find myself a right free, happy man. "Ah! Master Almerich, my words do poor justice to my heart; my feelings always get the start of them, and reason comes limping after! "I beheld Siegelind, you see, moving actively about,-wearing a cheerful countenance late and early,-all goodness and discretion from top to toe, and pretty too,—overflowing| with gay spirits and merry songs without number: all that my eye, my ear, and my heart drunk in smoothly,-she was satisfied, and the old people too; so in summer I was to go to the mountains, and at harvest-home to the wedding, and she gave me this waistcoat to wear on the hills in remembrance of her. "Meanwhile the spring came, and old Bernhard traversed the forest selecting the finest stems for his carving work, and exerting all his skill to provide us with fine furniture against the wedding. "So one morning he was ascending the mountain merrily, through those ravines where there are some marvellously fine trees, when a little man, in an odd sort of dress, hastened to meet him, screaming violently, and beckoning and calling him so earnestly that he could not but go with him. They soon reached a barn, where he found the wife of the little dwarfish stranger lying sick and in extremity. Her he relieved and cured; but for me-bride, peace, and happiness were lost from that hour." "Ah, good heavens!" exclaimed Almerich; "you are talking bravely, whilst I am almost starving-hop, hop, hop-we are trudging incessantly on, and my stomach is as empty as a bagpipe; yesterday evening-nothing; this morning-nothing; oh that brave wedding "Now, now, the deuce!" bawled the herdsman; "what have you got here in this cursed wallet? Here am I toiling on with this plagued bag, rubbing the very skin off my shoulder. I thought there were at least ham and cheese and fresh bread in it; if not, why should I be smothered under such a bundle of rags!" “Softly, softly, my son!" replied the fiddler, "there are treasures in it; an old barret-cap of Siegefried, and an old sword-belt of Dieterich, and a couple of old leathern soles of Ylsan, child-These are no everyday concerns, my hearty! They are all sacred relics to him who understands the thing; they are worth a whole mountain of sweet wine and seven acres of thick golden wheat to him who knows their value!" "It may be so," said the herdsman, “I only wish we had a few cups of milk in the place of your treasures; but if it is so with your stomach, my good master, look you here, I have a mouthful of meagre goat-milk cheese, which I meant to serve me for the night; but never mind, I am little disposed to eat.” Berthold now produced his provisions, and Almerich devoured them as greedily as if he meant to swallow the herdsman after them by way of dessert. The bread was quickly devoured, and honest Berthold saw his supper devoured beforehand; then the fiddler wiped his mouth, leaped briskly up, was again in good spirits, and stumped away before the herdsman as freshly as if nothing had ailed him. All this, however, seemed very odd to Berthold; and when he again felt the annoyance of the wallet, he drew a sigh so deep that it echoed back from the neighbouring rocks. "Lack-a-day!" said Almerich again, "the poor lad has lost his bride and his peace of heart; I have been so concerned about him that I could not eat a bit!" "That fellow could devour the Stockhorn," thought Berthold somewhat angrily; "the club-foot is not in his right senses, I believe. "It was really too bad," began he at last aloud; "the dwarf in the barn returned a profusion of thanks to old Bernhard, and said: '1 am a foreign miner, and have lost the road with my good wife; so I have nothing to reward you with for your kind services, save a little bit of cheese and a few draughts of wine. So take that, and remember the poor fellow who gave you what he could, and will pray that Heaven may reward you farther.' 1 The Stockhorn, a well-known rock behind Erlenbach in the Siebenthal. |