Welsh Journals

THE WELSH WEEKLY. May 6, t8g2. and well deserved the plaudits of the audience for his fine rendering of the ever-popular cavalina, "Be thou faithful unto death." The same remarks can be applied also to Miss Esther Jenkins, and Mr. Lucas Williams, the former of whom sang with charming sweetness and exquisite taste the favourite contralto air, "Bat the Lord is mindful of His own;" while Mr. Williams' magnificently trained voice fairly brought the house down in the arias, " Consume them all " and " O God, have mercy." His delivery also of the fine solo, " I praise Thee, 0 Lord," was superb. The only fault to be found with the chorus was the preponderance of the sopranos and basses over the altos and tenors. This was apparent in the heavier choruses, notably in " 0 great is the depth " and " Not only unto Him." Otherwise the balance of the voices was very good; and the lighter choruses were fairly sung, particularly the two, "How lovely are the messengers " and " 0 be gracious." The Society's object is to give its members, and music- lovers generally in the town, an opportunity of familiarizing themselves with the works of the great masters. It was a satisfactory feature of this year's concert that the efforts of the Society in this respect are at last beginning to be appreciated, the audience being a very large and repre¬ sentative one. It is to be hoped that the list of patrons will be considerably augmented another year, especially by the insertion of more of the townspeople's names. COLLEGE NOTES. Extenfive repairs have been going on in the Aberyst¬ wyth College during the Vacation. The gallery is being c instructed in the Library, which in a year or two will probably merit the title which it has so long held by courtesy; and as heating apparatus had to be supplied for this part of the building, it was extended over the whole of the Arts Department. The appointment to the Professorship of Welsh in the above College will not be made this session, and it is still uncertain how the Chairs will be distributed among the three subjects of Welsh, History, and Political Economy. At meetings of the " Mission" of the same College letters have been read from Messrs. Beavan and W. Davies, who form with Mr. G. Hughes a little settlement of Aberystwythian missionaries at Madaripore, in India. At a recent meeting of the Celtic Society of Aberystwyth College (the Vice-President in the chair), it was unani¬ mously decided that the Society should take steps to express the deep regret at Professor Lloyd's departure, and its appreciation of the signal services he has rendered to the Society, of which he has been the first and only President. Professor Lloyd has read several valuable papers before the Society, and has but very seldom missed a meeting. Dk. Herford, of the University College of Wales, has been appointed Examiner to the London University. Db. Cynonfardd Edwards delivered the first of a series of ten lectures, on " Elocution," to a class of ministerial and law students on the 28th ult., at Ebenezer Congrega¬ tional Chapel. The rev. gentleman will continue these lectures, at 5.30 p.m. every Thursday, during the months of May and June. Our Cardiff University correspondent says " that Dr. Pan Jones is a benefactor and an exemplar." He supplies the Brecon students gratis with his popular organ The Way of the World (Cwrs y byd). Would that all editors were Pans ! Mb. H. Woolcott Thompson has announced hia intention of subscribing the sum of £100 to the building fund of the new Aberdare Hall of Besidence in connection with the University College of South Wales and Mon¬ mouthshire. Miss Thompson, of Preswylfa, has also very handsomely handed to the treasurer the sum of £100 in aid of the library at the hall. A SLIGHT MISTAKE. Mark Twain tells of a minister who took advantage of a christening to display his oratorical powers. " He is a little fellow," said he, as he took the infant, " and as I look in your faces I see an expression of seorn, which suggests that you despise him. But if you had the soul of a poet or the gift of prophecy, you would not despise him. You would look far into the future, and see what might be. So this little child may be a great poet and write tragedies, or perhaps a great warrior, wading in blood to his neck ; he may be—-er, what is his name?—his name is—O, Mary Ann!" HOW THE POACHER PAID HIS DEBT. It is a great thing to love Christ so dearly as to be " ready to be bound and to die " for Him ; but it is often a thing not less great to be ready to take up our daily cross and to live for Him,—John Caird. CHAPTER I. " I TRUST YOU." " How be you, girl ? " " I be right enough, surely ; but mother is that bad you can't say nothink to her. Tim said she was sharp enough to turn a jug of milk sour this morning, so I ran away, I did." " There, now, why is that ? " " Father's been poachin' again, and keeper's caught him this time, and mother's just wild 'bout it." " Then your father's in lock-up now? "Well, I'm bothered! I'm right glad I got no father ; poor folk's fathers don't seem to be of much count." " No, he ain't though, 'cos Miss Nest, she says, says she, ' You don't take Tim Morris*to lock-up till Squire comes home, and the|Squire's right away in London.' Mother, she says Miss Nest would have free'd him there and then somehow, but the Captain's 'bout the place, and he's a brute he is, though folks do say he means to marry Miss Nest." " Hsh ! Hsh! \ girl, there's Miss Nest, her own self on horseback by your mother's gate." " Well, I'm blest ! What can she want ? I declare, if she hasn't jumped right off that horse o' hers. Surely she must be goin' in to see mother." " She he real good, she means to help you people one way or t'other, I'll be bound. She's callin' you, Bet." Bet ran as fast as her legs could carry her, and in less than a minute was curtseying before the tall, slight figure of a girl not much older than herself— a girl that was every inch a lady, from the crown of the pretty, well-poised head, on the brown curls of which the blue velvet riding-cap sat so coquettishly, to the sole of her daintily-shod foot. " Bet, will you take care of Prince for me ? I am going to see your mother," said a sweet low voice that, according to poor Bet, " made you feel a sort o' trickle right through you." " You are not 8fraid of Prince, are you, Bet ? " " Sure no, Miss Nest, I'm not afraid, thank you," replied the girl, dropping another curtsey, and glancing with admiration at 4the young lady as she walked up the narrow garden^fpath towards the little white¬ washed cottage. She paused a moment, tapped lightly at the door, then raised the latch and walked in. Betsy Morris—for our story dates back to a time before working men's wives and daughters began to be called Mrs. and Miss, in Wales—was sitting in front of the fire, rocking herself to and fro in her chair. At sight of her visitor, Betsy got up hurriedly, curtseying as her daughter had done before her, then drawing her best chair from a corner, she carefully wiped it with her apron. " 'Tis good of you to come here, Miss Nest; will you be pleased to sit down ? " " Thank you, Betsy," said the young lady, taking the offered seat; " I came to let you know how sorry I am that Jim has got himself into trouble." " That's just like you, Miss Nest; sure I don't know what we'd do without you 'bout here." "Betsy," and the young girl took the woman's rough brown hand between both her own, " I wanted you to know that I mean to help Jim out of this—if I can," she added simply. " That's more'n he deserves, Mies Nest. If he'd behaved himself like an honest man he wouldn't be in such a plight to-day, that's certain; and if 'tweren't for the children I should just say it served him right, but I can't abear that their father should be made a jail bird of; them things stick to one so, Miss Nest. Well, there's nothing else to expect, that comes of going too often to the ' Blue Lion.' If Tim had brought his money home for his wife and children, he wouldn't have picked up with them fellows that brought him to this; but it pleased him better to help • my lady' there to her silks and satins—it never mattered how we fared here." " Poor Tim, he has been led astray by bad com¬ panions, Betsy ; he is very good-natured." " Yes, Miss," paid the woman politely, then added, " but I hold if a man is a man, he'll be no' led astray by anybody; maybe he is good-natured, but 'tis a quality of his'n that he never troubles his own family with. Oh, Miss Nest ! beggin' your pardon," the poor woman burst out, "you knows notbin' at all about it. Parson was here a while ago, and says he, ' I had much to be thankful for, and it might be much worse,' and he made me clean daft, he did, talking religion and such like to me. What can be worse for a woman than to have a lot o' small children and a drunken husband, I'd like to know ? I'd like parson to have a taste of it, that's all. 'Tis all very well for rich folks to go praisin* Providence, but 'tis my opinion Providence keeps clear enough o' this kind o' place." " Poor Betsy!" murmured the young lady. " Oh, Miss Nest, dearie, my heart's just a breakin', that it is, for the children's sake, and good children they are, though I say it as shouldn't, and now they'll never be able to hold up their heads no more; their father may be transported for trying to shoot the keeper. Oh, yes, Miss Nest, I knows the very worst; Parson took care o' that." " Mr. Jenkins meant well, I am sure, Betsy." " Maybe you're right, Miss Nest ; somehow the people that hurts one most always means well. Oh dear, oh dear." " Do not cry so terribly, Betsy ; perhaps something can be done for Tim, though things look so black just at present.'' She took the coarse hand in her own once more, pressed it kindly, and a gold piece ex¬ changed owners, " For the children, Betsy." " God bless you, Miss Nest 1 'tis my hopes trouble and you will never come across one another." " Thank you, Betsy," and the bright young creature, whose life had been all sunshine hitherto, went sadly down the garden-path, her eyes full of unshed tears, as she thought of the sorrow and pain that the world —which to her was a very paradise of happiness—held for others of God's children. The moment Prince espied his young mistress, he pricked up his ears, welcoming her as best he could— horse-fashion. " My beautiful Prince 1 " cried the girl, the sadness leaving her face as she took the bridle out of Bet's hand, patted the fine creature's neck, and swung her¬ self lightly into the saddle, with all the grace of an accomplished horsewoman. " Now, Bet, run in to help your mother." " She be so cross, Miss Nest." " Ah, but you must not mind that, Bet; you must be kind to her. Your mother is very unhappy. Now run in like a good girl." " An' sure I believe I'd have to go an' fling myself into this here pond if she was to tell me to," muttered Bet, as she stood watching the horse and its rider disappearing in the distance. Nor was Bet alone in her devotion to Squire Wynne's daughter. It was a sentiment in which all the parish would be found to freely sympathise with her. Miss Nest was their own especial property; they were quite sure there was no other young lady like her in the whole of Wales. She had been brought up amongst them. The Squire idolised his only child ; but Mrs. Wynne, who was a good and noble woman, had taken care that Nest should not be spoiled, and under her mother's skilful, judicious training she had grown up a loving, happy girl, with bonnie, winsome ways, and a large heart, overflowing with pity for the poor and the suffering. Late in the evening of the same day, after the twi¬ light had deepened into night; a cloaked and hooded figure hurriedly walked towards a side door that led out of Squire Wynne's grounds to the high road. She was followed by a man wearing a long brown over¬ coat and a slouched hat; a man whose gait was unmistakably that of a working man. By the door she stopped and drew a key from her pocket, which she inserted in the lock and turned softly ; then she turned to the man standing beside her, " Tim," she said, and the voice was that of the squire's daughter, " Here, Tim, take this; you will want some money, though Captain Hum¬ phreys will let you work your passage out," and she placed a small purse in his hand, casting an anxious look around her in the darkness as she did so, to make sure that there was no one lurking about. "Oh, Miss Nest, Miss Nest; you're just a killin' me with kindness, and I such a rale bad sort." " Oh, but Tim," said the sweet girlish voice; "from this night out you are to be an honest man, remem¬ ber; you must not think I am doing this all for Betsy's sake; it is for yours, too. I want you to have one chance. It is never too late to mend, you know, and I trust you. You will not disappoint me, Tim ? " " S'help me God, I never will, Miss Nest! Nobody ever said they trusted me afore ; and it kind o' chokes me down here Miss, it do; but if I lives, Miss Nest, I'll work and be an honest man, and I'll never touch the drink from this day for'ard, and------" the poor fellow broke down utterly and great tears rolled down his cheeks. "And you mean," said his young benefactresp, " that some day you will come back a rich man and pay your debt to me. Of course you will." The poacher was on his knees on the grass by the girl's side, pressing his lips reverently to the hem of her cloak. " S' help me God ! " muttered'the poacher between his sobs. " Amen ! " echoed the Squire's daughter. " Now, Tim, be off; you have a good four mile walk before you. Good-bye. Write often to Betsy when you are on the other side." A moment, and Nesta was alone; Bhe locked the door in the wall through which the man had passed, then she sped swiftly towards the manor, never pausing till she had gained the security of her own apartments. She threw herself into an easy.chair. 'You are improving, Nest," she said slowly to herself. " You have been aiding a criminal to escape. But I am not sorry—no, a thousand times, no I " and her face glowed in the firelight. " I have given him a chance, and—have thwarted James Meredyth once more." (To he continued.)