In this my first--my last confession:--
The passion will survive till death,
But never more can know expression.

W.

* * * * *


CHILDE'S TOMB.

(_For the Mirror._)


From "time out of mind" a tradition has existed in Dartmoor, Devon, and
is noticed by several writers, that one _John Childe_, of Plymstock, a
gentleman of large possessions, and a noted hunter, whilst enjoying that
sport during a very inclement season, was benighted, lost his way, and
perished through cold and fear, in the south quarter of the forest, near
Fox-tor, after taking the precaution to kill his horse, (which he much
valued), as a last resource, and for the sake of warmth and prolonging
life, to creep into its bowels, leaving a paper, denoting, that whoever
should find and bury his body, should have his lands at Plymstock.

"_The furste that fyndes and bringes me to my grave,
The landes of Plymstoke they shal have_."

This couplet was found on his person afterwards. Childe, having no
issue, had previously declared his intention of bestowing his estates
upon the church wherein he might be buried, which coming to the