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The mighty Conqueror arose

From death, triumphant o'er his foes,
Wearing the Victor's crown!
Heaven's hosts, unnumber'd as the sands,
Wait to fulfil his high commands;
And, bending lowly down,

Cast at his feet their crowns, to whom they all belong,
And sing, in tuneful psalmody of heaven, the song-
Worthy the Lamb!

Shall heav'n's bless'd spheres be wakening
The soul enrapturing song,

And woe-cast earth be silent, speechless,
Creation's ranks among?

Ye saints on earth, awhile though stooping,
Press'd down by cares, your spirits drooping
Beneath th' encumbering load;

Your burden-bearer from his throne

Makes all your cares, your griefs his own:
Though rugged be your road,

Gird up your loins, and in his strength be strong;
And, though ye weep, yet still raise ye th' immortal song-
Worthy the Lamb!

And earth will not be always groaning
In blighted hope and pain;

A bright to-morrow is approaching,

When earth shall be again

Clad in the garniture of Paradise,

With fruitful seasons under sunny skies;

When universal joy,

Close link'd in love's embrace with peace,

Shall be her heritage; nor cease

Their constant blest employ :

For, o'er earth's vanquish'd kingdoms, Jesus then will reign, And unto Him resound her then exalted strain

Worthy the Lamb!

J. G. W.

THE WILD-DUCK SHOOTER.

THE charity of the rich is much to be commended, but how beautiful is the charity of the poor!

Call to mind the coldest day you ever experienced. Think of the bitter wind and driving snow. Think how you shook and shivered-how the sharp, white particles were driven up against your face--how, within doors, the carpets were lifted like billows along the floors, the wind howled and moaned in the chimneys, windows creaked, doors rattled, and every now and then heavy lumps of snow came thundering down with a dull weight from the roof.

Now hear my story.

In one of the broad, open plains of Lincolnshire, there is a long, reedy sheet of water, a favourite resort of wild ducks. At its northern extremity stand two mud cottages, old, and out of repair.

One bitter, bitter night, when the snow lay three feet deep on the ground, and a cutting east wind was driving it about, and whistling in the dry, frozen reeds by the water's edge, and swinging the bare, willow trees till their branches swept the ice, an old woman sat spinning in one of these cottages, before a moderately cheerful fire; her kettle was singing on the coals; she had a reed candle or home-made rushlight on her table, but the full moon shone in and was the brighter light of the two. These two cottages were far from any road, or any other habitation, the old woman was, therefore, surprised as she sat drawing out her thread, and crooning an old, north-country song, to hear a sudden knock at the door.

It was loud and impatient, not like the knock of her neighbours in the other cottage; but the door was bolted, and the old woman rose, and shuffling to the window, looked out and saw a shivering figure, apparently that of a youth.

"Trampers," said the old woman sententiously, "Tramping folk be not wanted here; so saying, she went back to the fire without deigning to answer the door.

The youth, upon this, tried the door, and called to her to beg admittance. She heard him rap the snow from his shoes against her lintel, and again knock as if he thought she was deaf, and he should surely gain admittance if he could only make her hear.

The old woman, surprised at his audacity, went to the casement, and, with all the pride of possession, opened it and enquired his business.

"Good woman," the stranger began, "I only want a seat at your fire."

"Nay," said the old woman, giving effect to her words, by her uncouth dialogue, "thou'lt get no shelter here; I've nought to give to beggars-a dirty, wet critter," she continued wrath. fully, slamming to the window, "it's a wonder where he found any water, too, seeing it freezes so hard, a body can get none for the kettle, saving what's broken up with a hatchet."

The beggar, upon this, turned hastily away.

And at this point in his narrative, the person who told it me stopped and said, "Do you think the old woman was very much to blame ? "

"She might have acted more kindly," I replied, "but why do you ask?"

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"Because," said he, "I have heard her conduct so much reflected on by some who would have thought nothing of it if it had not been for the consequences."

"She might have turned him away less roughly,” I observed.

"Yes, she is a rough-spoken, as well as an uncharitable, old creature," he replied, "and has been ever since I knew her; but, in this instance, she did no more than we do; have we not all turned beggars from our doors ? "

"Yes, but we do not live in such lonely places," I replied.

"That is true," he answered, "but, in any case, I think, though we might give them food or money, we should hardly invite them in to sit by the fire."

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Certainly not; " I replied, "and this woman could not tell that the beggar was honest."

"No," said he, "but I must go on with my narrative. The stranger turned very hastily from her door, and waded through the deep snow towards the other cottage. The bitter wind helped to drive him towards it. It looked no less poor than the first; and when he had tried the door, found it bolted, and knocked twice without attracting attention, his heart sank within him. His hand was so numbed with cold, that he had made scarcely any noise; he tried again.

A rush candle was burning within, and a matronly-looking woman sat before the fire. She held an infant in her arms, and had dropped asleep; but his third knock roused her, and, wrapping her apron round the child, she opened the door a very little way, and demanded what he wanted.

"Good woman," the youth began, "I have had the misfortune to fall in the water this bitter night, and I am so numbed that I can scarcely walk."

The woman gave him a sudden, earnest look, and then sighed. "Come in," she said; "thou art so nigh the size of my Jem, I thought, at first, it was him come home from sea."

The youth stepped across the threshold trembling with cold and wet; and no wonder, for his clothes were completely encased in wet mud, and the water dripped from them with every step he took on the sanded floor.

"Thou art in a sorry plight," said the woman, "and it be two miles to the nighest house; come and kneel down afore the fire; thy teeth chatter so pitifully, I can scarce bear to hear them."

She looked at him more attentively, and saw that he was a mere boy not more than sixteen years of age. Her motherly heart was touched for him. "Art hungry ?" she asked, turning to the table; "thou art wet to the skin.

doing?"

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Shooting wild ducks," said the boy.

What hast been

Oh," said his hostess, "thou art one of the keepers' boys then, I reckon."

He followed the direction of her eyes, and saw two portions of bread set upon the table, with a small piece of bacon upon each.

"My master be very late," she observed, for charity did not make her use elegant language, and by her master she meant her husband; "but thou art welcome to my bit and sup, for I was waiting for him; maybe it will put a little warmth in thee to eat and drink; so saying, she took up a mug of beer from the hearth, and pushed it towards him, with her share of the supper.

"Thank you," said the boy, "but I am so wet I am making quite a pool before your fire with the drippings from my clothes."

"Aye, thou art wet indeed," said the woman, and rising again she went to an old box in which she began to search, and presently came to the fire with a perfectly clean checked shirt in her hand, and a tolerably good suit of clothes.

"There," said she, showing them with no small pride, "these be my master's Sunday clothes, and if thou wilt be very careful of them, I'll let thee wear them till thine be dry." She then explained that she was going to put her “bairn to bed, and proceeded up a ladder into the room above, leaving the boy to array himself in these respectable and desirable garments.

When she came down, her guest had dressed himself in the labourer's clothes; he had had time to warm himself, and he was eating and drinking with hungry relish. He had thrown his muddy clothes in a heap upon the floor; and as she pro

ceeded to lift them up, she said, "Ah lad, lad, I doubt thy head has been under water; thy poor mother would have been sorely frightened if she could have seen thee awhile ago."

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Yes," said the boy; and in imagination the cottage dame saw this said mother, a careworn, hardworking creature like herself; while the youthful guest saw, in imagination, a beautiful and courtly lady; and both saw the same love-the same anxiety-the same terror at sight of a lonely boy struggling in the moonlight, through breaking ice, with no one to help him, catching at the frozen reeds, and then creeping up shivering and benumbed to a cottage door.

But even as she stooped the woman forgot her imagination, for she had taken a waistcoat into her hands, such as had never passed between them before; a gold pencil-case dropped from the pocket, and on the floor, among a heap of mud that covered the outer garments, lay a white shirt sleeve, so white, indeed, and fine, that she thought it could hardly be worn but by a squire !

She glanced from the clothes to the owner. He had thrown down his cap, and the first glimpse at his fair, curly hair and broad forehead convinced her that he was of gentle birth; but, while she hesitated to sit down, he set a chair for her, and said, with boyish frankness, "I say, what a lonely place this is; if you had not let me in, the water would have all frozen on me before I reached home. Catch me duck shooting again by my

self!"

"It's very cold sport that, sir," said the woman.

The young gentleman assented most readily, and asked if he might stir the fire.

"And welcome, sir," said the woman. She felt a curiosity to know who he was, and he partly satisfied it by remarking that he was staying at D-Hall, a house about five miles off, adding that, in the morning, he had broken a hole in the ice very near the decoy, but it had iced over so fast that, in the dusk, he had missed it and fallen in, for it would not bear him. He had made some landmarks, and taken every proper precaution, but he supposed the sport had excited him so much that, in the moonlight, he had passed them by.

He then told her of his attempt to get shelter in the other cottage.

Sir," said the woman, "if you had said you were a gentleman

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The boy laughed. "I don't think I knew it, my good wowoman," he replied, "my senses were so benumbed, for I was some time struggling at the water's edge among the broken ice, and then, I believe I was nearly an hour creeping up to your

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