upper board; but, except naked bones, the crowd of loaf-eaters, as Old English domestics were 'suggestively called, saw little of these daintier kinds of food. Nor did they much care, if to their innumerable hunches of bread they could add enough pig to appease their hunger. Hounds, sitting eager-eyed by their masters, snapped with sudden jaws at scraps of fat flung to them, or retired into private life below the board with some sweet bone that fortune sent them. With the washing of hands, performed for the honoured occupants of the high settle by 'officious slaves, the solid part of the banquet ended. The board was then dragged out of the hall; the loaf-eaters slunk away to have a nap in the byre, or sat drowsily in corners of the hall; and the drinking began. During the progress of the meal, Welsh ale had flowed freely in horns or vessels of twisted glass. Mead, and in very grand houses wine,3 now began to circle in goblets of gold and silver, or of wood inlaid with those precious metals. Most of the Old English drinking-glasses had rounded bottoms, like our soda-water bottles, so that they could not stand upon the table-a little thing, which then as in later times suggested hard drinking and unceasing rounds. Two attendants, one to pour out the liquor, and the other to hand the cups, waited on the 'carousers, from whose company the ladies of the household soon withdrew. The clinking of cups together, certain words of pledge, and a kiss, opened the revel. In humbler houses, story-telling and songs, sung to the music of the harp by each guest in turn, formed the principal amusement of the drinking-bout. But in great halls, the music of the harp-which, under the poetic name of " glee-wood," was the national instrument—of fiddles played with bow or finger, of trumpets, pipes, flutes, and horns, filled the hot and smoky air with a clamour of sweet sounds. The solo of the ancient scôp or maker, who struck his five-stringed harp in praise of old Teutonic heroes, was exchanged in later days for the performances of the glee-man, who played on many instruments, danced with violent and often comical 'gestures, tossed knives and balls into the air, and did other wondrous feats of jugglery. Meantime the music and the mead did their work upon maddened brains the revelry grew louder; riddles, which had flown thick around the board at first, gave place to banter, taunts, and fierce boasts of prowess; angry eyes gleamed 'defiance; and it was well if in the morning the household slaves had not to wash blood-stains from the pavement of the hall, or in the still night, when the drunken brawlers lay stupid on the floor, to drag a dead man from the red plash in which he lay. From the reek and riot of the hall the ladies escaped to the bower, where they reigned supreme. There, in the earlier part of the day, they had arrayed themselves in their bright-coloured robes, plying tweezers and crisping-irons on their yellow hair, and often heightening the blush that Nature gave them with a shade of rouge. There, too, they used to scold and beat their female slaves, with a violence which said more for their strength of lung and muscle than for the gentleness of their womanhood. When their needles were fairly set agoing upon those pieces of delicate embroidery, known and prized over all Europe as "English work," some gentlemen dropped in, perhaps harp in hand, to chat and play for their amusement, or to engage in games of hazard and skill, which seem to have resembled modern dice and chess. When in later days supper came into fashion, the round table of the bower was usually spread for Evening-food, as this meal was called. And not long afterwards, those bags of straw, from which they sprang at sunrise, received for another night their human burden, worn out with the labours and the revels of the day. arranged', laid out. arrayed', decked. carou'sers, rev'ellers. cen'tral, most important. chief'tain, lord. complet'ed, fin'ished. defi ́ance, challenge. demoli'tion, consumption. | resembled, been like. height'ening, intensify- suggestively, signifi hon'oured, distinguished. lounging, loi'tering. 1 Tesseræ, the blocks or cubes used in making mosaic pavements. From its diminutive, tessella, comes the word tessellated, used in describing such pavements. 2 The upper board, that at which the host and his guests sat; for the servants and retainers sat in the same room, but at a lower table at the other end of the hall. 3 Wine. -The use of wine among the Old English was limited to the highest class. It was either imported from the Continent or made of home-grown grapes, which since Roman days had ripened in the lower basins of Severn and Thames. Many mon cantly. unceasing, inces'sant. uten'sils, appli'ances. variegated, check'ered. asteries, alive to the delights of grape juice, contrived to have a vineyard of their own. Scôp or maker. The Old English word for "poet" is sceopa—that is, shaper; in later times maker (Scot. macker) was used in the same sense. Both words point to creation, or original invention, as the essential part of the poet's work. It may be noticed, also, that the word "poet" comes from a Greek verb signifying to make; while the French "troubadour" and "trouvere," and the Italian "trovatore," are all derived from a word meaning to make, invent, find out. When did it take QUESTIONS.-What was the great event of the Old English day? place? Of what did the table consist? By whom was the board laid? Of what did the meal consist? What food did the domestics receive? With what did the solid part of the banquet end? What then began? What did they drink? What was peculiar about their drinking-glasses? Of what is this suggestive? By what performances was the banquet accompanied? In what did it often end? Where had the ladies meantime gone? How did they spend the evening? SOLILOQUY OF HENRY IV. O SLEEP, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse,1 how have I frighted thee, Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, And hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, And lulled with sounds of sweetest melody? And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, 4 Curling their 'monstrous heads, and hanging them Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!? SHAKESPEARE (6) — Henry IV., Part ii. 66 it to "shrouds." 'Hurly, noise; confusion. Elsewhere Shakespeare uses "hurly-burly" in the same sense. 1 Nature's soft nurse.-Shakespeare "clouds;" but Pope very properly altered has many beautiful descriptions of sleep; such as, sore labour's bath," "balm of hurt minds," 'great nature's second course,' chief nourisher in life's feast," the death of each day's life," ""the season of all natures," ," "the honey-heavy dew of slumber." Milton also speaks of "the timely dew of sleep;" and Young, of"Tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." 2A watch-case, - -a sentry-box, the watchman in which has to be constantly awake and on the alert. 3 Shrouds, the set of ropes (or ropeladders) which stretch from the mast-head to each side of a vessel, to support the mast. The word in the original was 5 Partial Sleep, sleep which shows an undue preference; the opposite of impartial. In its other sense, it is the opposite of total. 66 " Most stillest.-Shakespeare often uses double comparatives and superlatives. Other examples are, most unkindest," 'more richer," more worthier," "less happier." 64 7 Then, happy low, lie down!-Then lie down in comfort, happy in being low ; for, "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW. September 26th, 1857. HAVELOCK had determined, when he started in the morning, to relieve the anxiously-waiting garrison1 that night, or not *survive the attempt; and the soldiers, who at first were glad to obtain a moment's rest, became 'impatient at delay. They had fought their way for nearly a hundred miles to rescue their ⚫beleaguered comrades with their wives and children, and they could not rest till they thundered at the gates of their prison. To The garrison in the meantime were anxiously listening for their arrival. They had heard the heavy firing in the morning, and noticed that there was a great sensation in the city. wards noon they could see the smoke of battle as it rolled upwards over the houses; and, a little later, people hurrying out of the city, carrying bundles of clothes on their heads, followed by large bodies of cavalry and infantry. Although the enemy kept up a steady fire upon them, they were too excited to pay much heed to it, but listened with beating hearts to the heavy 'cannonade as it wound hither and thither through the streets. By four o'clock some officers on the look-out reported that they saw, far away, near a palace, a regiment of Europeans and a bullock battery. Soon after, the rattle of musketry was heard in the streets. While they stood listening, a rifle ball went whistling over their heads, and never before was the sound of a bullet so sweet to the ear. It was a voice from their friends, and whispered of deliverance. Five minutes later, and the Highlanders were seen storming through one of the principal streets; and although they dropped rapidly, under the fire from roofs, windows, and doors, there was no faltering. Then the long restrained 'excitement burst forth in cheer upon cheer-" from every fort, trench, and battery-from behind sand-bags piled on shattered houses-from every post still held by a few gallant spirits, rose cheer on cheer." The thrilling shouts penetrated even to the hospital, and the wounded crept out into the sun, a ghastly thrông, and sent up their feeble voices to swell the glad shout of welcome! The conversation between Outram") and Havelock 2 was long and earnest. The former was at first firm in his opinion that they should remain in the palace-court and other sheltered places till morning, and Havelock as thoroughly determined to push on. He said that the garrison might even then be exposed to the final assault; and if it were not, that the enemy could 'concentrate such a force around them before morning that it would be almost impossible to advance. At length it was agreed to leave the wounded, the heavy guns, and a portion of the army behind, and with only two regiments, the 78th Highlanders and the Sikhs, to attempt to reach the Residency. 3 Outram had been wounded in the arm by a musket-ball early in the morning; but, though faint from loss of blood, he refused to leave the saddle, and even now would not dismount. Enduring as he was bold and chivalric, he resolved to accompany Havelock, and share with him the danger, and, if need be, death, in this last 'perilous advance to the relief of the garrison. Everything being ready, these two gallant commanders put themselves at the head of the slender column, and moved out of the place of shelter. As soon as they entered the street, the houses on either side shot forth flame; while, to prevent the rapid advance of the troops, and hold them longer under the muzzles of their muskets, the enemy had cut deep trenches across the street, and piled up barricades. Passing under an archway that streamed with fire, the gallant Neill fell from his horse-dead. His enraged followers halted a moment to avenge his death; but the stern order of Havelock, "Forward!" arrested their useless attempt, and the column moved on. Each street as they entered it became an 'avenue of flame, through which it seemed impossible for anything living to pass. Every door and window was ablaze, while an incessant sheet of fire ran along the margin of the flat roofs, which were black with men. At each angle batteries were placed, and as soon as the head of the column appeared in view the iron storm came drifting down the street, piling it with the dead. The rattling of grape-shot and musket-balls against the walls and on the pavement was like the pattering of hail on the roof of a house! From out those deep avenues the smoke arose as from the mouth of a volcano, while shouts and yells rending the air on every side made still more appalling the night, which had now set in. Between those walls of fire, through that blinding rain of death, Havelock walked his horse composedly as if on parade, his calm, peculiar voice, now and then rising over the clangour of battle. That he escaped unhurt seems a miracle, for in the previous eleven hours he had lost nearly one-third of his entire |