Page:Monthly scrap book, for April.pdf/14

14 clearing away out of the valleys went rolling and curling like the smoke from the corner of Dick's mouth.

“'Tis just the pattern of a pretty morning," said Dick, taking the pipe from between his lips, and looking towards the distant ocean, which lay as still and tranquil as a tomb of polished marble. "Well, to be sure," continued be, after a pause, "'is mighty lonesome to be talking to one's self by way of company, and not to have another soul to answer one-nothing but the child of one's own voice, the echo! I know this, that if I had the luck, or may be the misfortune," said Dick, with a melancholy smile, “to have the woman, it would not be this way with me!-and what in the wide world is a man without a wife? He's no more surely than a bottle without a drop of drink in -it, or dancing without music, or the left leg of a scissars, or a fishing-line without a hook, or any other matter that is no ways complete.-Is it not so?” said Dick Fitzgerald, casting his eyes towards a rock upon the strand, which, though it could not speak, stood up as firm and looked as bold as ever Kerry witness did.

But what was his astonishment at beholding, just at the foot of that rock, a beautiful young creature combing her hair, which was of a sea-green colour; and now the salt water shining on it, appeared in the morning light, like melted butter upon cabbage.

Dick guessed at once that she was a Merrow, although he had never seen one before, for he spied the little enchanted cap, which the sea people use for diving down into the ocean, lying upon the strand near her; and he had heard, that if once he could possess himself of the сар, she would lose the