And a Niece-whose father's far away upon the Spanish

Main

The Sacristan, he says no word that indicates a doubt,

But he puts his thumb unto his nose, and he spreads his fingers out!

“And where doth tarry Nelly Cook, that staid and comely lass? Ay, where?-for ne'er from forth that door was Nelly known to pass.

Her coif and gown of russet brown were lost unto the view, And if you mention'd Nelly's name, the Monks all look'd askew!

"There is a heavy paving-stone fast by the Canon's door,
Of granite grey, and it may weigh some half a ton or more,
And it is laid deep in the shade within that Entry dark,
Where sun or moon-beam never play'd, or e'en one starry spark.

"That heavy granite stone was moved that night, 't was darkly said,

And the mortar round its sides next morn seem'd fresh and newly laid;

But what within the narrow vault beneath that stone doth lie, Or if that there be vault, or no-I cannot tell—not I!

"But I've been told that moan and groan, and fearful wail and shriek

Came from beneath that paving-stone for nearly half a weekFor three long days and three long nights came forth those sounds of fear;

Then all was o'er-they never more fell on the listening ear.

A hundred years were gone and past since last Nell Cook was

seen,

When worn by use, that stone got loose, and they went and

told the Dean.

-Says the Dean, says he, 'My Masons three! now haste and

fix it tight;'

And the Masons three peep'd down to see, and they saw a fearsome sight.

"Beneath that heavy paving-stone a shocking hole they foundIt was not more than twelve feet deep, and barely twelve feet round;

- A fleshless, sapless skeleton lay in that horrid well!

But who the deuce 'twas put it there those Masons could not

tell.

"And near this fleshless skeleton a pitcher small did lie,

And a mouldy piece of 'kissing-crust,' as from a Warden-pie! And Doctor Jones declared the bones were female bones and 'Zooks!

I should not be surprised,' said he, if these were Nelly Cook's!'

"It was in good Dean Bargrave's days, if I remember right, Those fleshless bones beneath the stones these Masons brought

to light;

And you may well in the Dean's Chapelle' Dean Bargrave's portrait view,

'Who died one night,' says old Tom Wright, 'in sixteen fortytwo!'

"And so two hundred years have pass'd since that these Masons three,

With curious looks, did set Nell Cook's unquiet spirit free;
That granite stone had kept her down till then-so some sup-

pose,

-Some spread their fingers out, and put their thumb unto their nose.

"But one thing's clear-that all the year, on every Friday night,

Throughout that Entry dark doth roam Nell Cook's unquiet

Sprite :

On Friday was that Warden-pie all by that Canon tried;

On Friday died he, and that tidy Lady by his side!

"And though two hundred years have flown, Nell Cook doth still pursue

Her weary walk, and they who cros her path the deed may rue;
Her fatal breath is fell as death! the Simoom's blast is not
More dire—(a wind in Africa that blows uncommon hot).
But all unlike the Simoom's blast, her breath is deadly cold,
Delivering quivering, shivering shocks unto both young and old,
And whoso in that entry dark doth feel that fatal breath,
He ever dies within the year some dire, untimely death!

"No matter who- -no matter what condition, age, or sex,
But some 'get shot,' and some 'get drown'd,' and some 'get'
broken necks;

Some 'get run over' by a coach;—and one beyond the seas 'Got' scraped to death with oyster-shells among the Caribbees!

"Those Masons three, who set her free, fell first!—it is averr'd That two were hang'd on Tyburn tree for murd'ring of the third: Charles Story,* too, his friend who slew, had ne'er, if truth they tell,

Been gibbeted on Chartam Downs, had they not met with Nell!

"Then send me not, mine Uncle dear, oh! send me not, I pray, Back through that Entry dark to-night, but round some other way!

I will not be a truant boy, but good, and mind my book,
For Heaven forfend that ever I foregather with Nell Cook!”

* In or about the year 1780, a worthy of this name cut the throat of a journeyman paper-maker, was executed on Oaten Hill, and afterwards hung in chains near the scene of his crime. It was to this place, as being the extreme boundary of the City's jurisdiction, that the worthy Mayor with so much naïveté wished to escort Archbishop M*** on one of his progresses, when he begged to have the honour of "attending his Grace as far as the gallows."

The class was call'd at morning tide, and Master Tom was there;
He look'd askew, and did eschew both stool, and bench, and chair,
He did not talk, he did not walk, the tear was in his eye,-
He had not e'en that sad resource, to sit him down and cry.

Hence little boys may learn, when they from school go out to

dine,

They should not deal in rigmarole, but still be back by nine; For if when they've their great-coat on, they pause before they

part

To tell a long and prosy tale,-perchance their own may smart!

MORAL.

-A few remarks to learned Clerks in country and in town-
Don't keep a pretty serving-maid though clad in russet brown!.
Don't let your Niece sing "Bobbing Joan!"-don't with a
merry eye,

Hob-nob in Sack and Malvoisie,-and don't eat too much pie!!
And oh! beware that Entry dark,- especially at night,—
And don't go there with Jenny Smith all by the pale moonlight!—
So bless the Queen and her Royal Weans,-and the Prince whose
hand she took,-

And bless us all, both great and small,- and keep us from Nell

Cook!

11

KIND, good hearted, gouty Uncle John! how well I remember all the kindness and affection which my mischievous propensities so ill repaid-his bright blue coat and resplendent gilt buttons-his "frosty pow" si bien poudre his little quill-like pigtail!-Of all my praiseworthy actions they were "like angel visits, few and far between "the never-failing and munificent rewarder; of my naughty deeds-they were multitudinous as the sands on the sea-shore-the ever-ready palliator; my intercessor, and sometimes even my defender against punishment, "staying harsh justice in its mid career!" -Poor Uncle John! he will ever rank among the dearest of my

NURSERY REMINICENCES.

I REMEMBER, I remember,
When I was a little Boy,
One fine morning in September
Uncle brought me home a toy.

I remember how he patted

Both my cheeks in kindliest mood;
"Then," said he, "you little Fat-head,
There's a top because you're good!"

Grandmamma-
-a shrewd observer-
I remember gazed upon

My new top, and said with fervour,
"Oh! how kind of Uncle John!"