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 does the tender paion yet lumber in thy oul? Hat thou ipped at the honied cup of chate connubial joy, or drank deep of the intoxicating bowl of voluptuounes? Does the oil of hope feed the flame of thy love, or does a latent park glow beneath the embers of depondency? Is the maiden, who has pleaed thine eye, now ighing over thee as one departed, or longing with impatience for thy return to her arms? Unlock the ecrets of thy boom, and I will lay open mine alo, and tell thee what thou wilt be glad to hear.’

‘Reverend father,’ replied the guileles Swab, ‘as to the tate of my heart, be aured that it has never worn the fetters of love, and is till free like the birds of the air from the net of the bird-catcher. I was preed young into the ervice of the Emperor Albert, before the down on my chin had ripened to the tiffnes of a man’s beard, or the girls paid any