anxiety, observed, was calculated for ten or twelve guests, of the same description no doubt with his landlady. Jean left him in no doubt on the subject. She brought up the story of the stolen sow, and noticed how much pain and vexation it had given her. Like other philosophers, she remarked that the world grows worse daily; and, like other parents, that the bairns got out of her guiding, and neglected the old gypsey regulations, which commanded them to respect, in their depredations, the property of their benefactors. The end of all this was, an inquiry what money the farmer had about him, and an urgent request, that he would make her his purse-keeper, as the bairns, so she called her sons, would be soon home. The poor farmer made a virtue of necessity, told his story, and surrendered his gold into Jean's custody. She made him put a few shillings in his pocket, observing it would excite suspicion should he be found travelling altogether penny less. This arrangement being made, the farmer lay down on a sort of shake-down, as the Scotch call it, upon some straw, but, as will easily be believed, slept not. About midnight the gang returned with various articles of plunder, and talked over their exploits in language which made the farmer tremble. They were not long in discovering their guest, and demanded of Jean whom she had got there?" E'en the winsome gudeman of Lochside, poor body," replied Jean: "he's been at Newcastle seeking for siller to pay his rent, honest man, but deil-be-licket he's been able to gather in, and sae he's gaun e'en hame wi' a toom purse and a sair heart.” "That may be, Jean," replied one of the banditti; " but we maun ripe his pouches a bit, and see if it be true or no." Jean set up her throat in exclamations against this breach of hospitality, but without producing any change of their determination. The farmer soon heard their stifled whispers and light steps by his bedside, and understood they were rummaging his clothes. When they found the money which the providence of Jean Gordon had made him retain, they held a consultation if they should take it or no, but the smallness of the booty, and the vehemence of Jean's remonstrances, determined them in the negative. They caroused and went to rest. So soon as day dawned, Jean roused her guest, produced his horse, which she had accommodated behind the hallan, and guided him for some miles till he was on the high road to Lochside. She then restored his whole property, nor could his earnest intreaties prevail on her to accept so much as a single guinea. "I have heard the old people of Jedburgh say, that all Jean's sons were condemned to die there on the same day. It is said that the jury were equally divided; but that a friend to justice, who had slept during the whole discussion, waked suddenly, and gave his vote for condemnation, in the emphatic words, " Hang them a'." Jean was present, and only said, "The Lord help the innocent in a day like this!" Her own death was accompanied with circumstances of brutal outrage, of which poor Jean was in many respects wholly undeserving. Jean had among other demerits, or merits, as you may choose to rank it, that of being a staunch Jacobite. She chanced to be at Carlisle upon a fair or market day, soon after the year 1746, where she gave vent to her political partiality, to the great offence of the rabble of that city. Being zealous in their loyalty when there was no danger, in proportion to the tameness with which they had surrendered to the Highlanders in 1745, they inflicted upon poor Jean Gordon no slighter penalty than that of ducking her to death in the Eden. It was an operation of some time, for Jean was a stout woman, and, struggling with her murderers, often got her head above water; and while she had voice left, continued to exclaim at such intervals,— "Charlie yet! Charlie yet!"-When a child, and among the scenes which she frequented, I have often heard these stories, and cried piteously for poor Jean Gordon. "Before quitting the border gypsies, I may mention, that my grandfather riding over Charterhouse-moor, then a very extensive common, fell suddenly among a large band of them, who were carousing in a hollow of the moor, surrounded by bushes. They instantly seized on his horse's bridle, with many shouts of welcome, exclaiming, (for he was well known to most of them,) that they had often dined at his expense, and he must now stay and share their good cheer. My ancestor was a little alarmed, for, like the gudeman of Lochside, he had more money about his person than he cared to venture with into such society. However, being naturally a bold lively man, he entered into the humour of the thing, and sat down to the feast, which consisted of all the varieties of game, poultry, pigs, and so forth, that could be collected by a wide and indiscriminate system of plunder. The feast was a very merry one, but my relative got a hint from some of the older gypsies to retire just when 'The mirth and fun grew fast and furious,' and mounting his horse accordingly, he took a French leave of his entertainers, but without experiencing the least breach of hospitality. MADGE GORDON. The late Madge Gordon was at that time accounted the queen of the Yetholm clans. She was, we believe, a granddaughter of the celebrated Jean Gordon, and was said to have much resembled her in appearance. The following account of her is extracted from the letter of a friend, who for many years enjoyed frequent and favourable opportunities of observing the characteristic peculiarities of the Yetholm tribes." Madge Gordon was descended from the Faas by the mother's side, and was married to a Young. She was rather a remarkable personage of a very commanding presence and high stature, being nearly six feet high. She had a large aquiline nose-penetrating eyes, even in her old age-bushy hair that hung around her shoulders from beneath a gypsey bonnet of straw-a short cloak of a peculiar fashion, and a long staff nearly as tall as herself. I remember her well;-every week she paid my father a visit for her almous, when I was a little boy, and I looked upon Madge with no common degree of awe and terror. When she spoke vehemently, (for she had many complaints,) she used to strike her staff upon the floor, and throw herself into an attitude which it was impossible to regard with indifference. She used to say that she could bring from the remotest parts of the island, friends to reveng her quarrel, while she sat motionless in her cottage; and she frequently boasted that there was a time when she was of considerable importance, for there were at her wedding fifty saddled asses, and unsaddled asses without number. If Jean Gordon was the prototype of the character of Meg Merrilies, I imagine Madge must have set to the unknown author as the representative of her person." Blackwood's Magazine. - THE LOVES OF CLITOPHON AND LEUCIPPE.-A ROMANCE, From the Greek of Achilles Tatius. (Original.) (Resumed from page 119.) My father having a mind to celebrate this festival, and for that purpose, ordered a magnificent supper, and prepared a cup, sacred to the Deity; in addition to which was a second, fashioned by Glaucus, the Chian. And now, as the feast went on the wine warmed my blood and I became bolder, for wine is the food of love, I ventured to gaze more freely on the maid, who returned my glances with encreasing frankness. And thus ten days were past, without either daring to express our passion but in the language of the eyes. At last I opened the whole affair to Satyrus, entreating his assistance, to which he replied, "I knew all this before you told me of it, but said nothing, as being well aware that he who loves secretly, owes no good will to the discoverer of his secret. In a very short time I will manage matters for you; in the first place however, it is not enough to know the girl's feeling towards you by the eyes alone; you must mingle hands; if she bear that, then call her mistress and kiss her neck." "So Pallas help me," I replied, " you advise well, but I am so great a coward in love affairs, that I never shall venture so far." "Beware of this," said Satyrus, " Cupid does not endure cowardice: Do you not perceive that he is full of audacity and marches along in military guise, armed with darts and arrows? But I will help you, and will dismiss Clio as soon as I see a fit occasion of leaving you alone with your mistress." Thus saying he left me to myself, and I began to chide my own folly, first for my bashful terrors, and then again for entertaining such a passion, when my hand was destined to another, But while I was thus meditating, Leucippe on the sudden met me. She was alone, for Clio had left her. "Hail, my dear mistress" said I. "Your mistress!" replied Leucippe, smiling." Say not so, unless some god has sold you to me, as Hercules was formerly given to Omphale." The return of Clio broke in upon my answer, and however my impatience might at the moment be inclined to dislike her presence, it turned out eventually to my profit. Leucippe had taken up her harp, when a bee stung the hand of her companion. Upon this she laid aside the harp, telling Clio that she had learnt from an Egyptian woman the art of healing the stings of wasps and bees; this art consists in murmuring a few words over the wounded part, and on the present occasion the remedy did not belie its promise. At this moment a wasp flying close to me, I pretended it had stung my lips and called aloud for the aid of Leucippe, who was no less ready to afford it. She began her charm a second time moving her lips close to mine, but as her mouth had opened and shut in breathing the spell and I imitated the action, the charm quickly was changed into kisses. Leucippe astonished at the action, drew back; "What are you doing?" said she. "Are you also making incantations?" "I am only kissing away the charm,” replied I; "but alas! dear Leucippe, you carry a bee upon your lips, for your kisses are full of honey, and yet wound." Thus saying, I embraced her more closely, and though she struggled, she did not seem unwilling to receive my caresses; when we perceived the old servant coming, and were compelled to part. From this moment I began to conceive better expectations of success; how far those expectations were realised, will be seen hereafter; but it is now necessary to look to another person, who had no little influence on my fate. Prior to the war against the Byzantines, a certain young man, by name Callisthenes, had fallen in love with the daughter of Sostratus, only from the report of her beauty, and had asked her in marriage of her father. Sostratus, however, knowing the young man to be a debauchee, had refused his consent, the consequence of which was, that Callisthenes, thinking himself injured by this denial, turned all his thoughts upon double satisfaction to his love and his revenge. For this purpose, he resolved to avail himself of the Byzantine law, which affixed no other punishment to the rape of a girl, than that the ravisher should marry the object of his wishes. The opportunity for this was offered in a doubtful oracle given to the Byzantines; this was the oracle: There is a land, named from a plant, Which is joined to the land by a nearer track, |