movement which from time immemorial has soothed the restlessness
of child-life.

It was a pitiless night--a night the superstitious might well
associate with the portent of the downfall of the house around
which the storm seemed to rage. The rain beat upon the windows,
and the wind with its invisible arms clasped the old farmstead as
if to wrench it from its foundations and scatter broadcast its
gray stones over the wild moor on the fringe of which it stood.
Neither of the women, however, heeded the sweep of the tempest,
for their bosoms were racked by storms other than those of the
elements. With eyes heavy from pent-up floods of tears, and hearts
dark with foreboding, they listened for the footfall which both
knew would bring with it their impending fate.

'He's here,' said the old woman, quickly raising her head during
one of the lulls of the storm. Nor was she mistaken, for in a
moment the door was thrown open by a tall broad-shouldered man,
who, seizing the dripping cap from his head, flung it with an oath
into the farthest corner of the room.

'Then he'll noan give us another chonce, lad? But thaa cornd mend
it wi' swearin'--thaa nobbud makes bad worse by adding thy oaths
to his roguery.'

'Oaths, mother! Oaths didsto say? I can tell thee th' Almighty
sometimes thinks more o' oaths than prayers. Owd Moses'll say his
to-neet--but my oaths'll get to heaven faster.'

'Hooisht, Jim! hooisht! ne'er mind Moses and his prayers. What did