tongue, but still, if she has any mind, here will be a reflection of it."
The narrative commenced by a description of a Saxon peasant's hut, situated within the confines of a great, leafless, winter forest; it represented an evening in December; flakes of snow were falling, and the herdsman foretold a heavy storm; he summoned his wife to aid him in collecting their flock, roaming far away on the pastoral banks of the Thone; he warns her that it will be late ere they return. The good woman is reluctant to quit her occupation of baking cakes for the evening meal; but acknowledging the primary importance of securing the herds and flocks, she puts on her sheep-skin mantle; and, addressing a stranger who rests half-reclined on a bed of rushes near the hearth, bids him mind the bread till her return.
"Take care, young man," she continues, "that you fasten the door well after us; and, above all, open to none in our absence; whatever sound you
