ands, and upon the clearances of the For thirteen years after his return North American colonies; and they from America Fox lived to labor in the even talked of carrying the truth to the vineyard. To tell the story of that mandarins of Canton. Fox was no time would be but to traverse the old effort to win England for the pope, made a useless bid for the support of the Quakers. In his sixty-sixth year, though very feeble, he threw himself heart and soul into the great battle for toleration; and crawled down day after day from his lodgings to Westminster Hall, to argue with the members in favor of making the act comprehensive and effectual." 66 longer young; the terrible hardships ground again. To the last he never he had endured had made him prema-had a home; he spent his days wanturely old; but with indomitable cour- dering from city to hamlet and from age he determined to cross the seas to shore to shore upon his Master's busitake his part in the crusade. ness; twice he visited Holland and On the 13th of June, 1671, he sailed the North German seaboard; at times from Gravesend aboard the Industry. he still found himself in the dock and The same evening they hove to off in the gaol, though the persecution in Deal to land the friends of the passen-its more spiteful phase had died with gers, among them Fox's wife. The Charles, for James, in his desperate voyage proved anything but a pleasureparty. The vessel took eight inches of water an hour, and from the start the passengers were forced to join the crew at the pumps; three weeks out from London they were chased by a Sallee pirate, and only avoided capture owing to a dark night and a fresh gale. At last, after a voyage of just under two months, they made Barbadoes, and dropped anchor in Carlisle Bay. Three The end was now in sight. The long months later they again took ship, and days in the saddle, the nights spent after touching at Jamaica, landed in under the open sky in rain and snow, Maryland. Fox remained in America the months of weary lingering in fetid a little over two years. During that prisons, had broken his once magniftime, though in the weakest health, he icent constitution. On the 11th of managed to make his way through the November, 1690, he preached for the miles of forest and prairie that hedged last time with more than wonted fire round the English colonies from Caro- and directness in the old meeting-house lina to Rhode Island. The spasm of in Gracechurch Street. As he came persecution which had driven Williams out he complained that he felt the cold out of the Bay State, and built the gal-strike at his heart. He went home and lows of the Salem witches, had spent "All is itself. Fox was received everywhere with kindness and with affection; even the negroes and the Indians listened to him with attention and respect. One could wish that he had spoken out with all the might that was in him against the growing curse of slavery; had he done so he might have saved his cause in America from the stain of an indelible disgrace. As it was, he contented himself with pleading for a more humane and generous regime, with the result that when King Cotton raised his ugly head the Quakers marched hand in hand with their neighbors into the abyss. In March, 1673, he sailed from Pattuxen and landed after a rough but favorable voyage at Bristol. " he lay down never to rise again. The exact position of his grave has long since been forgotten, though a modern stone marks its conjectured site. As a memorial that plain slab is amply sufficient; anything more costly one feels would be incongruous. His true monument is the labors, for two centuries, of Quaker men and women; in the figure of Penn carrying through the American continent the fiery cross We of complete toleration, in the story of soup to poor old Widow Reynolds, the devoted labors of Elizabeth Fry, and we walked, well, as close toand in the echo of the stately eloquence gether as people might be excused for of Bright. It may be said that Fox's doing, under the circumstances. successors were greater than himself; had such a lot to talk about! — the day and no doubt they possessed gifts, as we first met, just two months ago, at they possessed opportunities, which the regimental sports, and how Harry were denied to him; but they could not fell in love at first sight or so he one of them have done his work. Car- vowed-and felt like knocking down lyle could find for him, in all history, Captain Trevor when he reached me but one peer, the philosopher Diogenes. first with a strawberry ice, and ran for "Great, truly, was that Tub; a temple the cream for my tea. I felt rather from which man's dignity and divinity grieved, after this, to confess that I were scornfully preached abroad; but greater is the Leather Hull, for the same sermon was preached there, and not in Scorn but in Love." From Temple Bar. THE DEVIL'S OWN. BY LILLIAS CAMPBELL DAVIDSON. hadn't noticed Harry a bit that day; and it was only after Mrs. Jacob's tennis, ten days later, when he walked home with me, and carried my racquet and shoes, that I had first began to think-to wonder-to-well, never mind! The clouds had gathered thicker and blacker as we reached Mrs. Reynolds's moss-grown, thatched cottage, and we To every life there comes its con- were barely inside when the big drops summation of bliss - the very crown- began to patter down. Privately, I ing and pinnacle of well-being; looking don't think Mrs. Reynolds felt all the back at which, 'twixt smiles and tears, regret she expressed at our being we say, with yearning and regretful caught in a summer shower, for she heart, "Ah! then, at least, for how-dearly loved a little gossip, and seldom ever brief a space, I was perfectly had a chance to indulge her tastes in happy." That consummation was mine one radiant day in June, as I walked over the springing heather on Aulus Moor with Harry Curzon. For we had been engaged three days -three golden days snatched from Paradise; but it was only the night before that my dear old father gave his careful consent, and this was our very first walk together as openly declared lovers. What a walk it was! Far off, beyond the verge of farthest moorland, the burnished line of sea gleamed like a band of molten gold. Overhead, the piled-up banks of cloud had a lining of lurid pink, and hung heavily against their background of liquid blue. There was a storm coming; but what is a thunder-storm when you've just promised to marry the man you love with all your whole heart? Harry carried the basket. I was taking some of mamma's famous lentil this lonely locality, where the carrier only passed twice a week, and her nearest neighbor lived a mile away, across a very unsafe ford. I had to answer no end of inquiries as to the physical well-being of all my family and relatives to the remotest degree, and tell her six distinct times that I was quite free, myself, from all bodily infirmity, before she was content to let the conversation take a more general character. "And how's the new housemaid doin'?" was her next question, after I had succeeded in artfully leading her from more personal topics, in dread lest she should begin researches of an embarrassing nature into Harry's and my relations towards each other. "Doin' well, is she? Well, well I'm main glad to hear it. I must say I never much expected it. Laws,' says I, what can you look for in a wench named Pinnick ?? Butter don't come from lard - now do it?" "Perhaps not," said I, not wishing thatched cottages as stood just inside to commit myself over even what the Jews' Camp, a mile or more from seemed an evident enough proposition. here you may see the pile of ruins "But Pinnick isn't such a bad name, now. I wouldn't have lived in a dree Mrs. Reynolds-not very pretty, per- spot like that, let alone Pinnicks for haps; but that doesn't much matter." neighbors in the other house, only pov"Matter? Not a farthing, miss, as erty sends strange bedfellows, as the to beauty; but a deal of matter other sayin' is, and the rent was low. Noways. Never did I know a Pinnick body had a good word for they Pinthat hadn't a bad strain. There was nicks, and I kept myself to myself, for Job Pinnick, the sheep-stealer, as was there was strange tales afloat. Folks hanged on the moor here by the head- said as there'd been a child by a marstone cross when I was a gell; and riage afore-she was a widow when Hannah Copley, as was a Pinnick Seth Pinnick married her a fine before she married, and poisoned her likely little chap as died strange, somehusband after; and them two Pinnicks how; and folks fought shy of Pinnick, as lived neighbors to me at the Jews' as was a surly brute, and hedged and Camp, and sold theyselves to the Old ditched for Squire Berthon. Well, One." they did me no harm, and I'd lived there three months or more, quiet enough, but for the shrieks and cries when Seth came home o' Saturday nights from the Doncaster Arms, and had it out o' her after, when all at once the black death broke out in the houses down by the stagnant pool betwixt this and Aulus' ford, and the place was in a panic. Seth Pinnick had been drinking with some of they men from down there, and the next thing was, he and Sally was both down with it too. Miss Kitty, there wasn't a soul as would go anigh their cottage; and I thinks, thinks I, 'I'm a lone woman, and a neighbor; and if the Almighty means me die, I'll get it as soon livin' next door as a-tending them;' so I went in and nursed 'em both. "Really!" said Harry, who, perched on a rush-bottomed chair, and holding his hat in that attitude of instant departure peculiar to the morning caller, had hitherto been engaged in meditative study of the mourning cards with which the cottage walls were lavishly decorated; "that was a mild thing to do. What price did they get-anything worth while ?" The widow Reynolds declined to treat the subject with any levity. "The gentleman may believe me, or he may not believe me," she remarked, with deep solemnity. "What I went through and experienced myself I must hold with, was it never so. Which I'll tell you, Miss Kitty," she went on, turning her look of reproach from Harry to me. "And your own father as is a reverend can tell you as I told the tale to him the very same thirty years ago come Martinmas - the year it took place, when both of us was a deal younger than to-day.” My "Laws, my dear! it was as bad a time as ever I did see! Both of 'em was ravin' out of their heads when I got in, and not a bit or drop in the house, nor a soul to help one. niece Eliza promised to come up every day to the headstone cross and bring me a basket of bread and such-like, but save for that I didn't see a livin' soul. Less 'n two days Seth died - he was a'most past speech when I went inbut he shrieked wild-like without stop"It was thirty year this midsummer, pin' till his breath was well-nigh out of and I hadn't long been a widow of my him, and all his strength. Mercy on first, poor Joe Bowers, as likely a lad us! it chilled my blood! — and that as ever walked at the plough-tail. I night I saw Sally was goin' too. I'll was a-livin' then in one of them two never forget that night till my own I'm afraid I did not hail the relation with any wild joy; but that appeared to matter little to Mrs. Reynolds, whose cap frills rose and fell as her head began to waggle to and fro, in the excitement of her narration. death-bed comes! There was a storm | but my hand shook so it dropped from outside — rain and thunder, and wind it, and fell on the open Book instead. enough to lift the roof; and there that poor sinful woman lay, ravin' and mutterin' and singin'-enough to turn you cold! "I got the Book, and I sat by the chimney-corner, and I tried to readbut I couldn't see a line. I was wellnigh frightened silly, what with the storm and Sally. All at once, about midnight, she fell quite still and hushed; and then all at once she began to speak out strong and clear. I just saw as how it was a Jew's penny, and not a real shillin' at all, when there came the most terrible clap of thunder as ever I heard and a flash as filled the room. There was a roar of bricks fallin', and timbers givin', and a smell of burnin' and sulphur. Sally Pinnick gave one great cry, and fell back dead on the pillow; and as for me, I just tore out o' the house, and ran through the rain and the blast to Dewsbury, three mile or more away. I was drenched and tore and sore bemired as ever I got there; but there I found shelter and a roof with my niece Elizabeth. And betimes, next morn, I was ashamed o' my fears, in the sunlight, and I fared back to do the last for the poor dead creature, and see to my own empty house. Will you believe, Miss Kitty, I found the place a heap o' bricks and timbers? They said the lightning had struck the roof, and the gale did the rest; but anyhow, I made way to creep to poor Sally's deathroom, and that was not so rent as the rest. "Miss Kitty, the words seemed to pass me in my dread, but as sure as I sit here I made out, while my teeth chattered, and I shook so I nearly dropped the rushlight, a tale that struck me dumb with horror. It was all about a child a little lad-and as how Squire Berthon swore he'd have no children in them cottages to harry the game; and as how Seth came home and told her as he wasn't a-goin' to lose a good place for a brat's sake, and there'd be a way to settle. Then there came something about starving, and a strong lad, long to die that way, and Only the bed, and she in it, lay Seth in a temper, and out of patience piled with bricks from the chimney, to wait and a black mark round a that you couldn't see it. 'Yet,' thinks thin little neck and how he'd bound I, she laid a charge on me with her her by a Jew's shillin' never to tell. last words, and I'll keep it;' so I Miss Kitty, my child! I fair turned sought for that Jew's penny high and sick with fright. Not for a hundred low. They're real siller, I heard Squire pounds would I have stopped a minute Berthon's lady say once, and worth a longer in that room ! I got up to turn mint; but though I moved the sticks, and fly, never heedin' the storm and and lifted the rag carpet-ay, and the wind-anywhere out of that place swept out the room, and even scoured of blood! But just as I stood up out o' it; and peered into every chink and my chair, as it might be just so as I'm cranny-not a sign of that bit o' money doing now, Sally flung out her hand saw I from that day to this. No, Miss and clutched tight hold on my gown, Kitty, nor ever shall; for if ever the and sat up sudden, strong and straight, Old One claimed his own, he came and with her eyes wide open. 'Mrs. Bow-fetched away the shillin' she bound ers,' she says, wild-like, 'you're a good her soul by, that blessed midsummer woman, I doubt. Take this shillin' night." -and she reached one from under her pillow and give it to lame Billy when I'm gone. He begged at my door last Easter-tide, and I drove him with a curse,' she says, and now I'm sorry,' says she, and I'd like to do one good deed afore I die.' And with that she reached me out the shillin', Camp for me, Miss Kitty! VOL. LXXXIV. 4330 LIVING AGE. 6 But what did you do for a house, Mrs. Reynolds?" I murmured, when my lips could find their use. "Yours was ruined too, wasn't it?" "Eh, I bid with my niece Elizabeth till Reynolds asked me, and then I came out here. No more o' the Jews' But just My you tell the mistress at the rectory not | but the ones here are stiil found, from to put too much faith in a Pinnick, my time to time, and always there has been dear, and to count the knobs of sugar some horrible story connected with now and again.' every one that sees the light. father says it is the large number of Roman coins found about Dewcaster that gave rise to the legend; like Onion's pennies at Silchester. But the poor people believe it firmly, and say "Odd," said Harry, when we were once more on our way over the moorland, where every sprig of heather now glistened with its diamond drop, and the hot sun was drawing up a quivering mist from the soaked earth-"odd that the real names of the places about what a lot of superstition still lingers are Judasbury, and Judas-camp, or the Jews' Camp. It's very odd, Harry. And here's the camp itself." was upturned for several yards. As I stood talking to Harry I wondered what was the strange round object I idly turned over with the toe of my shoe. Suddenly I stooped, and picked it up. "A gruesome hole," said Harry. And certainly the square depression on the barren hilltop, without a tree to break the wide brown sea of moor, was desolate and wild enough for any tale of tragedy. The pile of grass-grown ruins that still marked the scene of "Oh, the old legend about the Jews' Mrs. Reynolds's story lay under the Camp. Did you never hear it? Why, shadow of tangled gorse and broom. you know there's a Roman camp here We strolled across the weird enclosure, -you'll see it in another minute- to see how the little spring, swollen by Dewcaster its real name is; but all the the heavy rain, had burst its banks and country people call it the Jews' Camp, torn a channel through the ground beand papa says the corrupted name low. There had been a sort of miniagave rise to the story. Any way, the ture landslip, and the fresh wet earth legend runs that when the Romans under Aulus Plautius conquered this place, there was a soldier of the legion who had taken part in the sacking of Jerusalem and got, as part of his booty, the thirty pieces of silver, which had been ever since in the family of the man who sold the Potter's Field. They say that money is the devil's own, and whoever possesses it is ruined, body and soul. The soldier who had it was murdered by his comrades for his hoard, and with it they bribed their fellow warriors to kill their own centurion in battle, and place one of themselves in his stead. He turned on his confederates, once he was in power, and would have put them to death, but they fled, carrying the money with them; and finally returned with an army of British, and enough of the pieces of silver still unsquandered to buy from a traitor inside the camp its betrayal, and the slaughter of all its defenders. The other pieces were melted down, or passed into other circulation, still carrying the curse with them to this day; "There!" I said; 66 why that's one of the very coins I was telling you about. Papa says they're as plentiful as blackberries." And I held it out to Harry as I spoke. 66 "That's Jove, so it is!" said he. queer." He rubbed it on his coatsleeve, and stuck knowingly in his eye the little magnifying glass he examines flowers through. "It's a genuine antique. I can just make out Ti Cæsar. I believe you've had a real find, Kits, and the first thing you ever gave me is really worth having. I'll put it on my watch-chain, and wear it as long as I live-your first, dear little present." -- "Oh, Harry! you mustn't — please don't. Suppose it were to be a Jew's penny!" Are you "You dear little goose! really a superstitious kitten? Is our |