The book of Friendship

er there With an eye more mild Perchance than his mild white hair Meets the child. I had rather hear the words That the twain exchange Than the songs of all the birds There that range, Call, chirp, and twitter there Through the garden-beds Where the sun alike sees fair Those two heads ? And which may holier be Held in heaven of those Or more worth heart's thanks to see No man knows. 1881. A. C. Swinburne Sir Walter Scott and Marjorie Fleming c IR WALTER sat down in his large green morocco elbow-chair, drew himself close to his table, and glowered and gloomed at his writing apparatus, "a very handsome old box, richly carved, lined with crimson velvet, and containing ink-bottles, taper-stand, etc., in silver, the whole in such order, that it might have come from the silversmith's window half an hour before." He took out his paper, then starting up angrily, said, " ' Go spin, you jade, go spin.' No, d? it, it won't do, ? "'My spinnin' wheel is auld and stiff, The rock o't wunna stand, sir, To keep the temper-pin in tiff Employs ower aft my hand, sir." I am off the fang. I can make nothing of Waverley to-day; I'll awa' to Marjorie. Come wi' me, Maida, you thief." The great creature rose slowly, and the pair were off, Scott taking a maud (a plaid) with him. " White as a frosted plum-cake, by jingo!" said he, when he got to the street. Maida gamboled and whisked among the snow, and her master stro...