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 take you where you will find a home and a welcome."

"What is your name," said the astonished Hastings, "and how have I been transported hither."

"My name is Edgar Hastings," said the young man; "and I feel assured that yours is the same. If I thought you had sufficient fortitude to hear the strange events which have occurred, I would tell you at once; but you had better come with me, and during the evening you shall know all."

Hastings suffered himself to be led by the two strangers, as he felt cramped and chilly; but every step he took revived some singular train of thought. As he proceeded, he saw what appeared to be his own house, for the shape, dimensions and situation were like the one he built, and the distance and direction from his farm house was the same. What astonished him most was the trees; when he saw them last they were silver pines, chestnuts, catalpas, locusts and sycamores—now the few that remained were only oak and willow; they were of enormous size, and appeared aged.

"I must wait, I see," said poor Hastings, "for an explanation of all this; my hope is, that I am dreaming. Here lie trees newly felled, immense trees they are, and they grew on a spot where I formerly had a range of offices. I shall awake to-morrow, no doubt," said he, faintly smiling, "and find myself recompensed for this miserable dream. Pray what is your name?"—turning to the younger of the two men.

"My name is Valentine Harley, and I am related to this gentleman; our family have, at intervals, intermarried, for upwards of three hundred years."

"Valentine Harley!" exclaimed Hastings, "that is the name of my wife's father. There never was any of the name of Valentine, to my knowledge, but his; and I did not know that there was another