to say at the next meeting of our Shop
Savings Bank?"—"Why, I mean to make a
speech. I mean to say, that both the middle
and the working-classes of men desire to invest
money in land. That the uncertainty and
complexity of titles, the length and expense
of conveyances, together with the cost of
stamps, place such investments beyond common
reach. ('Hear, hear!' from the Rising
Young Operative and the Shop-mate). That
simplifying titles, shortening conveyances,
would be a good thing for the landowners
themselves, by increasing the available value
of their property. And then I shall wind up
by saying, that I know, from what I was told
by a lawyer, yesterday, that it would be easy
enough to simplify the present law."

A GUERNSEY TRADITION.

THE Bailiffs * home was a lordly hall,
    And his land stretch'd far and wide.
And many stout serving-men came at his call,
    And great were his pomp and pride.

* The Bailiff, or chief judge, in the Royal Court of
Guernsey is named by the English sovereign. Gualtier de
la Salle, the first Bailiff, was appointed in 1284.

Near this mansion there stood a neat little cot,
   Nestling in bush and tree;
The owner, a peasant of humble lot,
With one vergee † of land from his forefathers got,
   None happier seem'd than he.

† Vergee, about half an English acre.

He loved his children, he loved his wife,
    Their words and their acts were right;
So they led in the cottage a peaceable life,
    Though they labour'd from morn till night.

No spring there was on the peasant's ground,
    But, whoe'er in the cot might dwell,
(It was known to the country folks many miles round)
   Had a right to the rich man's well.

When his earthen pitcher the villager brought
   At the rich man's well to fill;
How the Bailiff grudged, he little thought,
   His draughts from that limpid rill.

And why was he vex'd when the man he saw?
   Oh, why for the water care?
'Twas because the man had a right to draw,
   That he hated to see him there.

'Twould not perchance have been e'er denied,
Had he begg'd it eve and noon,
But it sadly offended the Bailiff's pride
   That he had not to ask the boon.

"Thy land and hut I desire to buy,"
   He said one day with a frown;
"Name the sum you expect, be it ever so high,
   I will instantly pay it down."

Poor Massey bow'd as he humbly spake—
   "My father first drew his breath
In this cottage; I prize it for his dear sake,
   And will never resign it till death.

"I lost my mother while yet a child,
    But once it was her abode;
Could I part with the home where my mother smiled—
   Where she taught me the fear of God?

"'Tis here I've lived with my loving wife,
   And little ones, now in Heaven;
And those who survive me shall have it for life,
   To them by the law it is given."

On this fancied grievance the Bailiff dwelt,
   As Massey his pitcher fed;
Such hatred at length to the peasant he felt,
   That he wish'd the poor man dead!

But he knew the cottage would then by law
   Descend (and it vex'd him sore)
To those who would come for the water, and draw
   As their father had done before.

But if he perish'd with infamy,
   The land would never be theirs;
By the Sovereign claim'd, no relations could be
   Accounted a felon's heirs.

At length there came to the Bailiff's heart
   A plan—"and it must succeed,"
So he said to himself, for he dared not impart
   To any the shameful deed.

In the vraiking * season he went one day,
   And a rich silver cup he bore,
When the peasant and family all were away,
   And he enter'd the unlock'd door.

* Vraik is sea-weed used as fuel and manure.

He approach'd the timeworn oaken chest,
   And lifted the unlock'd lid,
And under the raiment, their holiday best,
   The bright silver tankard hid.

He went away with a hurried pace,
   And closed the door with care;
But the eyes of the Lord are in every place,
   And they surely beheld him there.

In the dead of night he went forth once more,
   To a corn-stack that stood hard by,
And a heavy burthen of plate he bore,
   And conceal'd it from mortal eye.

The morning dawn'd and the Bailiff rose,
   And summon'd his menials soon;
"In order my costliest service dispose,
   For guests will be here at noon."

Each man has now his appointed task;
   For the service of plate they go;
Then questions in whispers they fearfully ask,
   And are hurrying to and fro.

The Bailiff listens—at length a page,
   In the tremulous voice of fear,
Announces the loss; and his well-feign'd rage,
   It was dreadful (they said) to hear.

Like a savage man, of sense bereft,
   With oaths he reviled them all;
And threaten'd, if no one acknowledg'd the theft,
   His vengeance on each should fall:

But promised pardon to every one
   Who by noon had the crime confess'd;—
They were innocent all, so ere setting of sun
The constables came, and the search was begun
    In the presence of many a guest.

The stately mansion below, above,
    And the arbours for pleasure round,
Are search'd, and the servants their innocence prove;
    No plate can be anywhere found.