Cornet as we know it now, with its old keep standing as a monument of
bygone days; or better still, we would thank the rising moon for veiling
it in such solemn mystery, and would let our fancy share the rest which
seems to pervade all around, while we enjoy the perfect stillness. There
is not a sound, except the ripple of the water. Houses, streets, ships,
men, women, and children, all seem resting peacefully in the silent
night. But, hark! there was a sound of cracking from the window! Again
and again we hear it, and whispering too outside. A few moments more,
and the window is opened, and two men have crept in. They are some of
the guests of the evening come to recover thus what they and their
companions have wasted here to-night, that they may have it to waste
once more. The till was quickly rifled, and at a slight noise overhead
the thieves beat a precipitate retreat, and, in their haste, dropped our
Sixpence in the street outside. Happy little Sixpence! to have escaped
such hands; better to lie on the cold, hard pavement, curtained by the
freezing air, than stay to be used as the fruits of theft invariably
are.

It was only just light when a little girl, whose rosy cheeks told that
the country air had kissed them that morning, passed by with a basket on
her arm nearly as big as herself. Her bright eyes soon spied the little
piece of money, and with a dart she caught it up; but, like an honest
girl, looked round to see if any one had dropped it. There was nobody
near but a dirty, good-tempered-looking coalheaver, who, seeing her
perplexity, said, "It must have been there all night, for nobody but me
has passed this morning; so you may keep it, if you like." Quite
content, she tripped away with her basket to join her mother in the
market, and tell of her good fortune.

Being a wise little maiden, Mary Falla did not spend her money that day,