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"As the gloomy habitation my grandfather was in was not to be long endured but from necessity, they were contriving other places of safety for him, particularly one, under a bed which drew out, in a ground floor, in a room of which my mother kept the key. She and the same man worked in the night, making a hole in the earth, after lifting up the boards, which they did by scratching it up with their hands, not to make any noise, till she left not a nail upon her fingers; she helping the man to carry the earth, as they dug it, in a sheet on his back, out at the window into the garden. He then made a box at his own house, large enough for her father to lie, with bed and bed clothes, and bored holes in the boards for air. When all this was finished, for it was long about, she thought herself the happiest creature alive."

"I have heard that before!" cried Lucy. "The Lady Grisell Baillie. Mamma, I heard you reading it last winter to papa. Oh, mamma! do you remember the diverting part about the sheep's head? I will show it to you, Harry; lend me the book for one minute. But this is not the same book you had," continued she; "that was a

poem*, and there were notes to it. Here is no poetry! and I am very sorry. I wish I could see again that pretty description of all that Grisell did when she was a young girl. I am sure Harry would like that, though it is poetry."

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"Shall I try?" said her mother. think I can remember the lines you mean:

And well, with ready hand and heart,
Each task of toilsome duty taking,
Did one dear inmate take her part,
The last asleep, the earliest waking.
Her hands each nightly couch prepared,
And frugal meal on which they fared;
Unfolding spread the servet white,

And deck'd the board with tankard bright.
Through fretted hose, and garment rent,
Her tiny needle deftly went,

Till hateful penury, so graced,
Was scarcely in their dwelling traced.
With rev'rence to the old she clung,
With sweet affection to the young.
To her was crabbed lesson said,
To her the sly petition made,
To her was told each petty care,
To her was lisp'd the tardy prayer,

* Metrical Legends, by Joanna Baillie.

What time the urchin, half undrest,
And half asleep, was put to rest.""

"Thank you, mamma. I do like it," said Harry.

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"I am glad to see there is something new in these 'Memoirs of Grisell Baillie,' resumed Lucy, who had been looking over the book.

"Here is more than we had in the notes to the poem. Pray, mamma, pray buy this book for the carriage."

"No, my dear, I will not buy it for the carriage," said her mother, laughing; "but I will buy it for myself, if you please, and I will read to you whatever can entertain you.

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"Thank you, mamma. Harry, are not you glad we are to have this book?" said Lucy. Hey, Harry?"

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Bnt Harry made no answer; he was intent upon a passage in another book, which he had just opened.

"What is it," said Lucy, looking over his shoulder. "Oh, I see the word steam engine, that is enough for him. But now Harry, do not choose a stupid book."

"No danger of that, miss. This is one of the Scotch novels," said the shop

man.

"A novel, Harry!" said Lucy; "how did a steam engine get into it?"

"I do not know," said Harry; "but I know that I have found a fine character of- I will not tell you, but you shall hear it. Father, would you be so kind as to read it out to my mother and Lucy?"

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Why should not you be so kind, Harry, as to read it to them yourself?" said his father.

"Because, father, I cannot do justice to it," said Harry; " and it is so good, that I could not bear to spoil it. Pray, father, read it." Here is the book."

His father read the following character of the great inventor of the steam engine :--

"Amidst this company stood Mr. Watt, the man whose genius discovered the means of multiplying our national resources, to a degree, perhaps, even beyond his own stupendous powers of calculation and combination; bringing the treasures of the abyss to the summit of the earth. Giving the feeble arm of man

the momentum of the Afrite commanding manufactures to arise, as the rod of the prophet produced water in the desert-affording the means of dispensing with that time and tide which wait for no man ; and of sailing without that wind, which defied the commands and threats of Xerxes himself. This potent commander of the elements-this abridger of time and space this magician, whose cloudy machinery has produced a change in the world, the effects of which, extraordinary as they are, perhaps are only now beginning to be felt, was not only the most refined man of science, the most successful combiner of powers, and calculator of numbers, as adapted to practical purposes; was not only one of the most generally well informed, but one of the best and kindest of human beings.'

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Several gentlemen, who had been reading, laid down their books to listen to this eloquent and just eulogium. When it was finished, and when the reader's voice stopped, there was silence for a moment

then a general burst of admiration. "Who wrote it? Where is it? Whose is it?"

All crowded round Harry to look at the book. Harry felt proud of having found out for himself, and by himself, what was

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