A Story Of The Curfew

To many heartsin theold countiy that cherish its traditions, the curfew recalls a story of love's devotion. In the time of Cromwell, a young soldier, for some offense, was compelled to die, and the time of bis death was fixed "at the ringing of the curfew." Naturally such a doom would be fearful and bitter to one in the year of his hope and prime, but to this unhappy youth death was doubly terrible, sinoe he was soon to be married to a beautitul lady, whom he had long loved. The lady, who loved him ardently in return, had used her efforts to save his fate, by pleading with the judges, and oven with Cromwell himself, but all in vüiii. In her despair she tried to bribe the old sexton not to ring the bell, but she found that impossible. The hour drew near for the execution. The preparations were completed. The ofncers of the law brought forth the prisoner and waited, while the sun was setting, for the signal from the distant bell-tower. To the wonder of everybody it did not ring. Only one person at that moment knew why. The poor girl herself, half wild with the thought of her lover's peril, had rushed unseen up the winding stairs and climbed the ladders into the belfry loft and seized the tongue of the bell. The old sexton was in his place prompt to the fatal moment. He threw his weight upon the rope, and the bell, obedient to his practiced hand, reeled and swung to and fro in the tower. But the brave girl kept her hold, and no sound issued from the metallic lips. Again and again the soxton drew the rope, but with desperate strength the young heroïne held on. Every moment made her position more fearful, every sway of the bell's huge weight threatened to fling her through the high tower window, but she would not let go. At last the sexton went away. Old and deaf he had not notioed that tho curfew gave no peal. The brave girl descended from the belfry, wounded and trembling. She hurried from the church to the place of execution. Cromwell himself was there, and was just sending to demand why the bell was silent. She saw him - " and lier brow, Lately white with sickening horror, glows witli hope and courage novv ; At his ioet she told her story, showed her hands all bruised and torn, And her sweet young face atill haggard with the auguish it had wom, Touched his heart with sudden pity, lit his eyes with misty light- "Go; your lover lives," cried Cromwell ; "curfew shall not ring to-night." A curious mode of trying the title to land is praoticed in Hindostán. Two holes are dug in the disputed spot, in each of which the plaintiff 8 and defendant's lawyer put one of their Ieg9, and remain there until one of them is ired, in which case his cliënt is defeated.