THE HIGHLAND SHEARER.* Fu' yellow lie the corn-rigs Wha stand the lee-lang day, Oh, I had ance a true-love, But I hae tint them a'. My father and my mither It's a bonnie bay at mornin', *Reaper is called "Shearer in Scotland. When the mist creeps ower the Cumbrays, And the great black hills, like sleepin' kings, Then a wee sigh stirs my bosom, But I rise content i' the mornin' D. RECOLLECTIONS OF ITALY: A ROMAN WEDDING AMONGST THE LOWER ORDERS. FROM AN UNPUBLISHED WORK. BY THE CHEVALIER DE CHATELAIN. I HAD promised Signorina Felicia to sit down to her table and taste of one of the 135,000 eggs that had been laid on Good Friday; but "man proposes and God disposes ;" and I was obliged to request Signorina Felicia to excuse my availing myself of her polite invitation. My motives arose from the following cause. In one of my excursions during the first days of October, being somewhat fatigued, I had entered a shabby little osteria to refresh myself. Several Roman eminenti, seated on the same bench as myself, began to show symptoms of impatience at the endless length of time the waiter was keeping them without the wine he was gone to fetch. I bethought myself to offer them the use of my bottle in the meantime, which they accepted without further ceremony. From that moment, notwithstanding my foreign accent, we were all hail-fellow-well-met. Signor Francese," said the gayest of the set, when I was about to retire, "I have a daughter, aged fifteen, who is going to be married in a few months: will you do me the favour to promise that you will be present at her wedding?" Seeing me hesitate, he added: H |