Or such-like expressions-Remember Old Nick Is, "Mind what you're after, and-Look ere you Leap!" Above all, to my last gravest caution attend NEVER BORROW A HORSE YOU DON'T KNOW OF A FRIEND!!! For the story which succeeds I am indebted to Mrs. Botherby. She is a Shropshire lady by birth, and I overheard her, a few weeks since, in the nursery chaunting the following, one of the Legends peculiar to her native county, for the amusement and information of Seaforth's little boy, who was indeed "all ears." As Ralph de Diceto, who alludes to the main facts, was Dean of St. Paul's in 1183, about the time that the Temple Church was consecrated, the history is evidently as ancient as it is authentic, though the author of the present paraphrase has introduced many unauthorised, as well as "anachronismatical interpolations." -For the interesting note on the ancient family of Ketch, I need scarcely say, I am obliged to the Simpkinson. BLOUDIE JACKE OF SHREWSBERRIE. The Shropshire Bluebeard. A LEGEND OF "THE PROUD SALOPIANS." "Hisce ferè temporibus, in agro Salopiensi, Quidam, cui nomen Johannes, Te Sanglaunt deinde nuncupatus, uxores quamplurimas ducit, enecat et (ita referunt) manducat; ossa solùm cani miræ magnitudinis relinquens. Tum demùm in flagrante delicto, vel 'manu rubrâ,' ut dicunt Jurisconsulti, deprensus, carnifice vix opprimitur." -Radulphus de Diceto. OH! why doth thine eye gleam so bright, Blondie Jacke? Oh! why doth thine eye gleam so bright? The Mother's at home, The Maid may not roam, She never will meet thee to-night! By the light Of the moon-it's impossible-quite! Yet thine eye is still brilliant and bright, Blondie Jacke! It gleams with a fiendish delight "'Tis done- She is won ! Nothing under the sun Can loose the charm'd ring though it's slight ! Ho! ho! It fits so remarkably tight!" The wire is as thin as a thread, Blondie Jacke! The wire is as thin as a thread, "Though slight be the chain, Again might and main, Cannot rend it in twain-She is wed! She is wed! She is mine, be she living or dead! Haw! haw!!" Nay, laugh not, I pray thee, so loud, Bloudie Jacke! Oh! laugh not so loud and so clear! Though sweet is thy smile The heart to beguile, Yet thy laugh is quite shocking to hear, O dear! It makes the blood curdle with fear! The Maiden is gone by the glen, Bloudie Jacke! She is gone by the glen and the wood It's a very odd thing She should wear such a ring, While her tresses are bound by a snood. By the rood! It's a thing that's not well understood! The Maiden is stately and tall, Blondie Jacke! And stately she walks in her pride; But the young Mary-Anne Runs as fast as she can, To o'ertake her and walk by her side! Though she chide She deems not her sister a bride! But the Maiden is gone by the glen, Blondie Jacke ! Mary-Anne she is gone by the lea; She o'ertakes not her sister, It's clear she has miss'd her, And cannot think where she can be! Dear me! "Ho! ho!-We shall see! we shall see!" Mary-Anne is gone over the lea, Bloudie Jacke! Mary-Anne she is come to the Tower! But it makes her heart quail, For it looks like a jail, A deal more than a fair Lady's bower, So sour Its ugly grey walls seem to lour. For the Barbican's massy and high, Blondie Jacke! And the oak-door is heavy and brown; And with iron it's plated And machicolated, To pour boiling oil and lead down; How you'd frown Should a ladle-full fall on your crown! The rock that it stands on is steep, Blondie Jacke! To gain it one's forced for to creep; The Portcullis is strong, And the Drawbridge is long, And the water runs all round the Keep; At a peep You can see that the Moat's very deep! The Drawbridge is long, but it's down, Blondie Jacke! And the Portcullis hangs in the air; And no Warder is near, With his horn and his spear, To give notice when people come there. — I declare Mary-Anne has run into the Square! The oak-door is heavy and brown, Blondie Jacke! But the oak-door is standing ajar, And no one is there To say, "Pray take a chair, |