• Kind sir, if the truth k must tell; At the sign of the basin of water K dwell.'

Then she flew from the ball-room, and put On her Catskin robe again;

And slipt in unseen by the cook,

Who little thought where she had been.

The young lord the very next day,
To his mother his passion betray'd.
And declar'd he never would rest,

Till he'd found out his beautiful maid!

There's another grand ball to be,
Where ladies their beauty show;
'Mrs. Cook,' said Catskin, dear me,
How much I should like to go.'

6

"You go with your Catskin robe,
You dirty, impudent slut!
Among the fine ladies and lords,
A very fine figure you'd cut!'

In a rage a ladle she took,

And broke poor Catskin's head; But off she went shaking her ears, And swift to her forest she fled.

She washed every blood-stain off,
In some cristal waterfall;
Put on a more beautiful dress,
And hasted away to the ball.

My lord at the ball-room door,
Was waiting with pleasure and pain;
He longed to see nothing so much,
As the beautiful Catskin again.

.

When he asked her to dance, she again Said Yes,' with her first smiling glance; And again all the night my young lord, With none but fair Catskin did dance!

'Pray tell me,' said he,' where you live;' For now 'twas the parting time;

But she no other answer would give,

Than this distych of mystical rhyme,

•Kinb sir, if the truth I must tell ;
At the sign of the broken ladle X dwell.'

Then she flew from the ball, and put on
Her Catskin robe again;

And slipt in unseen by the cook,

Who little thought where she had been.

My lord did again the next day,
Declare to his mother his mind,
That he never more happy should be,
Unless he his charmer should find.

Now another grand ball is to be,
Where ladies their beauty show;
'Mrs. Cook,' said Catskin, dear me
How much I should like to go.'

'You go with your Catskin robe,
You impudent, dirty slut!
Among the fine ladies and lords,
A very fine figure you'd cut!'

In a fury she took the skimmer,
And broke poor Catskin's head!
But heart-whole and lively as ever,
Away to her forest she fled!

She washed the stains of blood,
In some cristal waterfall;.

Then put on her most beautiful dress,
And hasted away to the ball.

My lord at the ball-room door,

Was waiting with pleasure and pain;
He longed to see nothing so much,
As the beautiful Catskin again.

When he asked her to dance, she again
Said Yes,' with her first smiling glance;
And all the night long, my young lord,
With none but fair Catskin would dance!

'Pray tell me, fair maid, where you live;' For now was the parting time: But she no other answer would give,

Rind sir, if the truth I must tell,

At the sign of the broken skimmer k dwell.'

Then she flew from the ball, and threw on
Her catskin-cloak again,

And slipt in unseen by the cook,

Who little thought where she had been.

But not by my lord unseen,

For this time he follow'd too fast;

And hid in the forest green,

Saw the strange things that past!

Next day he took to his bed,

And sent for the doctor to come;
And begg'd him no other than Catskin
Might come into his room!

He told him how dearly he lov'd her,
Not to have her his heart would break;

Then the doctor kindly promis'd

To the proud old lady to speak.

There's a struggle of pride and love,
For she fear'd her son would die;
But pride at the last did yield,

And love had the mastery!

Then my lord got quickly well,
When he was his charmer to wed;
And Catskin before a twelvemonth,
lord was brought to bed.

Of a young

To a way-faring woman and child,
Lady Catskin one day sent an alms;
The nurse did the errand, and carried
The sweet little lord in her arms.

The child gave the alms to the child,

This was seen by the old lady mother;

'Only see,' said that wicked old woman, 'How the beggar's brats take to each other?"

This throw went to Catskin's heart,

She flung herself down on her knees; And pray'd her young master and lord, To seek out her parents would please.

They set out in my lord's own coach,
And travell'd; but nought befell,
Till they reach'd the town hard by,
Where Catskin's father did dwell.

They put up at the head inn,

Where Catskin was left alone;
But my lord went to try if her father
His natural child would own.

When folks are away, in short time
What great alterations appear!
For the cold touch of death had all chill'd
The hearts of her sisters dear.

Her father repented too late,

And the loss of his youngest bemoan'd; In his old and childless state,

He his pride and cruelty own'd!

The old gentleman sat by the fire,
And hardly look'd up at my lord;
He had no hopes of comfort,
A stranger could afford.

But

my lord drew a chair close by,
And said, in a feeling tone,

Have you not, sir, a daughter, I pray,
You never would see or own?'

The old man, alarm'd, cried aloud,
'A hardened sinnner am I!
I would give all my worldly goods,
To see her before I die!"

Then my lord brought his wife and child,
To their home and parents' face;

Who fell down and thanks return'd
To God for his mercy and grace!

The bells ringing up in the tower,

Are sending a sound to the heart; There's a charm in the old church bells, Which nothing in life can impart!