234 LIONEL LACKLAND. 



of pride, all perfect, self-satisfied pride, that I glanced my large 

 blue eye ever and anon upon the reflection of my tall, slight, 

 and elegant figure. Ye gods ! I was supremely happy. Poor 

 Stratton ! I muttered, as I gave a last glance upon the old carved 

 mirror, " his face is shockingly red !" but his hair — what hair, 

 said T, pushing my fingers through my thick locks. Seizing my 

 fishing-cap, I sprang into the parlour, and kneeling down on one 

 knee, as I had ever been taught by my romantic, high-minded 

 dame, took her hand and kissed it twice most reverently. The 

 good old lady bent over me and kissed my forehead. "My 

 Lionel !" — ere she could utter more I started up, and throwing 

 my arms around her, pressed her trembling lips — " Farewell, 

 dear mother !" and darted out of the room. My heart was full ! 

 I could not trust myself to utter or hear another word. Accord- 

 ing to appointment, I joined Ellen and her father at a spot 

 called "Lan-Kelly." Stratton was from home, but intended 

 meeting them on Goat's-moor. 



The roads were crowded with people, either advancing singly 

 or in groups of from five to twenty, according as family con- 

 nexion had extended family community ; there were few gigs, less 

 of carriages, and as for the lazy looking cabriolet and sparkling 

 tilbury, dear, gentle reader, you must substitute the unobtrusive 

 "plazzy" (or cart), of which there were some of all sizes, 

 creaking and groaning on their heavy axletrees, full of laughing 

 brouzy girls, perfect amazons in hand and tongue. 



In the evening we arrived on the moor, which presented a 

 most interesting appearance; its smooth and unbroken plain 

 dotted with the white tents, yellowed by the light of the westering 

 sun, while the dark shadows of peasant groups, in busy activity, 

 or as quiet spectators, rose in strong relief to the white tents, 

 still more beautifully varied by the light fluttering dresses of the 

 women, arrayed in all the colours of the rainbow, with their 

 long flying ribbons and bright coloured shawls and kerchiefs : 

 long before we beheld the gay, spirit-stirring scene, the noise and 

 clamour of the multitude broke upon the ear. Ellen was 

 amused with the scene; every where around her were laughing 

 faces, little Love ran loose among the merry maidens, who seemed 

 on this occasion privileged to play the romping coquette with 

 their half-abashed swains, though now and then a rough banging 

 kiss on the ripe lips of some screaming damsel, frightened the 

 posse into a momentary sobriety. 



" Well done for Pannek ! he knows how to give a Cornish 

 hug, doesn't he, Vatheens ?" said a wicked-looking little pedlar, 

 who was hawking his wares about, provoking the unwary girls 

 with the glitter of his rings, brooches, and " charmed braids" 

 for true-love knots, and many were the hard-earned shillings the 

 rogue bore away that night from Goat's-moor. " Cornish hug !" 

 said a strapping fellow, who had heard the pedlar's remark — " ay. 

 Mister Smallsman, and thern another can give Cornish hugs to 

 pretty Vatheens, or thaivish pedlars too, oon ther haun a mind 



