JUDITH DUNCAN. 287 



' And there's Ellen, wo she's gone, and left 

 < me, for I'm very old, gentlemen, fourscore years, 

 ' come Christmas well, I sh'ant live to another 

 ' yule time, but they'll all dance there when old 

 ' Judith's in her grave and Ellen will dance too, 

 ' for she's gone now to meet Harry Wells, and 

 ' Sandie, and Geordie but what am I saying 

 ' Heaven have mercy in 'its goodness on my poor 

 ' brain ! My sons, my poor boys ! There are you 

 ' quite gone ' and here the poor old woman wept 

 aloud ' Yesterday I saw them,' she continued, 

 ' and they stood one on each side of that broad 

 ' pass, each on the edge of the rock I looked 

 ' again, and Geordie, (I ever loved him best,) he 

 ' was there, but his brother was not. God of heaven 

 * have mercy on their souls ! ' 



A ray of uncertain reason seemed to dawn for 

 a moment on her wandering mind, and Dr. Hast- 

 ings took advantage of it to address to her words of 

 consolation. He spoke to her of the good Shepherd 

 of eternal rest of pardon of peace of an 

 hereafter, when her sorrow would be no more. But 

 he spoke to one who heard not. With an indescrib- 

 able look of dignity, she drew up her withered 

 form, and raised her aged hand in an attitude which 

 commanded attention. She spoke again. ' Had 

 ' any of ye two beautiful boys, and lost them ? ' 

 here her voice rose to a frantic shriek ' I'd give 

 ' ye leave to talk to me of peace, if if ye felt it' 



