To hear a stranger talking about strangers, Heaven bless you when you are among your kindred!

Aye. You may turn that way-it is a grave 'Which will bear looking at.

LEONARD.

These boys, I hope

They lov'd this good old Man

PRIEST.

They did-and truly;

But that was what we almost overlook'd,
They were such darlings of each other. For,
Though from their cradles they had lived with
Walter,

The only kinsman near them in the house,
Yet he being old, they had much love to spare,
And it all went into each other's hearts.
Leonard, the elder by just eighteen months,
Was two years taller; 'twas a joy to see,
To hear, to meet them! From their house the
school

Was distant three short miles, and in the time
Of storm and thaw, when every water-course
And unbridg'd stream, such as you may have
notic'd

Crossing our roads at every hundred steps,
Was swoln into a noisy rivulet,

Would Leonard then, when elder boys perhaps Remain'd at home, go staggering thro' the fords Bearing his Brother on his back-I've seen him On windy days, in one of those stray brooks, Aye, more than once I've seen him mid leg deep, Their two books lying both on a dry stone Upon the hither side; and once I said,

---

As I remember, looking round these rocks And hills on which we all of us were born, That God who made the Great Book of the World:

Would bless such Piety

LEONARD.

It may be then

PRIEST.

Never did worthier lads break English bread: The finest Sunday that the Autumn saw, With all its mealy clusters of ripe nuts, Could never keep these boys away from church, Or tempt them to an hour of Sabbath breach. Leonard and James! I warrant, every corner Among these rocks, and every hollow place Where foot could come, to one or both of them Was known as well as to the flowers that

there.

grew

Like roe-bucks they went bounding o'er the

hills:

They play'd like two young ravens on the crags: Then they could write, aye and speak too, as well

.17

As many of their betters and for Leonard!
The very night before he went away,
In my own house I put into his hand
A Bible, and I'd wager twenty pounds,
That, if he is alive, he has it yet..

LEONARD.

It seems, these brothers have not liv'd to be
A comfort to each other..

PRIEST.

That they might

Live to that end, is what both old and young
In this our valley all of us have wish'd,
And what, for my part, I have often pray'd:
But Leonard—

'Tis of the elder brother I am speaking:
They had an Uncle, he was at that time
A thriving man, and traffick'd on the seas:
And, but for this same Uncle, to this hour
Leonard had never handled rope or shroud.

For the Boy loved the life which we lead here:
And though a very Stripling, twelve years old,
His soul was knit to this his native soil,
But, as I said, old Walter was too weak
To strive with such a torrent; when he died,
The estate and house were sold, and all their
sheep,

A pretty flock, and which, for aught I know,
Had clothed the Ewbanks for a thousand years.
Well-all was gone, and they were destitute:
And Leonard, chiefly for his brother's sake,
Resolv'd to try his fortune on the seas.
'Tis now twelve years since we had tidings
from him.

If there was one among us who had heard That Leonard Ewbank was come home again, From the great Gavel,* down by Leeza's Banks, And down the Enna, far as Egremont,

The great Gavel, so called, I imagine, from its resemblance to the Gable end of a house, is one of the highest of the Cumberland mountains. It stands at the head of the several vales of Ennerdale, Wastdale, and Borrowdale.

The Leeza is a River which follows into the Lake of Ennerdale: on issuing from the Lake it changes its name, and is called the End, Eyne, or Enna. It falls into the sea a little below Egremont.

The day would be a very festival,

And those two bells of ours, which there you see
Hanging in the open air-but, O good Sir!
This is sad talk—they'll never sound for him,
Living or dead!-When last we heard of him
He was in slavery among the Moors

Upon the Barbary coast-'Twas not a little
That would bring down his spirit, and, no doubt,
Before it ended in his Death, the Lad
Was sadly cross'd.-Poor Leonard! when we
parted,

He took me by the hand and said to me,
If ever the day came when he was rich
He would return, and on his Father's Land
He would grow old among us.

LEONARD.

If that day

Should come, 'twould needs be a glad day for him;

He would himself, no doubt, be as happy then

You said his kindred all were in their

And that he had one Brother

graves,