each with the other that it was impossible to define any: the chin of one formed the nose of another: what appeared to be a fixed and stern eye, if dwelt upon, changed to a gaping mouth; and the lines of the lofty forehead grew into a majestic and flowing beard. The more Robin allowed himself to contemplate the forms around him, the more terrific they became; and the stony expression of this crowd of faces assumed a savage ferocity as his imagination converted feature after feature into a different shape and character. Losing the twilight in which these indefinite forms were visible, he advanced through a dark and devious passage, whilst a deep and rumbling noise sounded as if the rock was about to close upon him and swallow him up alive for ever. Now, indeed, poor Robin felt afraid.

"Robin, Robin," said he, "if you were a fool for coming here, what in the name of fortune are you now?" But, as before, he had scarcely spoken, when he saw a small light twinkling through the darkness of the distance, like a star in the midnight sky. To retreat was out of the question; for so many turnings and windings were in the passage, that he considered he had but little chance of making his way back. He therefore proceeded towards the light, and came at last into a spacious chamber, from the roof of which hung the solitary lamp that had guided him. Emerging from the gloom, the single lamp afforded Robin light enough to discover several gigantic figures seated round a massive stone table, as if in serious deliberation, but no word disturbed the breathless silence which prevailed. At the head of this table sat Mahon Mac Mahon himself.

"What seek you?" he demanded in a voice of thunder.

"I come," answered Robin, with as much boldness as he could put on-for his heart was almost fainting within him"I come," said he, "to claim Philip Ronayne, whose time of service is out this night."

"Then you must single him out from among my pages," said the giant; "and if you fix on the wrong one, your life is the forfeit. Follow me." He led Robin into a hall of vast extent and filled with lights; along either side of which were rows of beautiful children, all apparently seven years old, and none beyond that age, dressed in green, and every one exactly dressed alike.

"Here," said Mahon, "you are free to take Philip Ronayne, if you will; but, remember, I give but one choice."

Robin was sadly perplexed; for there were hundreds upon hundreds of children; and he had no very clear recollection of the boy he sought. But he walked along the hall, by the side of Mahon, as if nothing was the matter, although his great iron dress clanked fearfully at every step, sounding louder than Robin's own sledge battering on his anvil.

They had nearly reached the end of the hall without speaking, when Robin seeing that the only means he had was to make friends with the giant, determined to try what effect a few soft words might have upon him.

""Tis a fine wholesome appearance the poor children carry," remarked Robin, "although they have been here so long shut out from the fresh air and the blessed light of heaven. "Tis tenderly your honour must have reared them!"

66

Ay," said the giant, "that is true for you; so give me your hand; for you are, I believe, a very honest fellow for a blacksmith."

Robin at the first look did not much like the huge size of the hand, and therefore presented his plough-iron, which the giant seizing, twisted in his grasp round and round again as if it had been a potato-stalk; on seeing this all the children set up a shout of laughter. In the midst of their mirth Robin thought he heard his name called: and, all ear and eye, he put his hand on the boy whom he fancied had spoken, crying out at the same time, "Let me live or die for it, but this is young Phil Ronayne."

"It is Philip Ronayne-happy Philip Ronayne," said his young companions; and in an instant the hall became dark. Crashing noises were heard, and all was in strange confusion; but Robin held fast his prize, and found himself lying in the grey dawn of the morning at the head of the Giant's Stairs, with the boy clasped in his arms.

Philip Ronayne lived to be an old man; and he was remarkable to the day of his death for his skill in working brass and iron, which it was believed he had learned during his seven years' apprenticeship to the giant Mahon Mac Mahon.-CROFTON'S IRISH LEGENDS.

"For them the viewless forms of air obey,

Their bidding heed, and at their beck repair;

They know what spirit brews the stormful day,

And heartless oft, like moody madness stare,

And see the phantom train their secret work prepare.

O HONE a rie'! O hone a rie'!*

The bride of Albin's line is o'er,

And fall'n Glenartney's stateliest tree; We ne'er shall see Lord Ronald more!

Oh, sprung from great Macgillianore,
The chief that never feared a foe,
How matchless was thy broad claymore,
How deadly thine unerring bow!
Well can the Saxon widows tell,

How, on the Teith's resounding shore,
The boldest Lowland warriors fell,
As down from Lenny's Pass you bore.
But o'er his hills, on festal day,

How blazed Lord Ronald's beltane tree; While youths and maids the light strathspey So nimbly danced, with Highland glee! Cheered by the strength of Ronald's shell, E'en age forgot his tresses hoar;

But now the loud lament we swell,
Oh, ne'er to see Lord Ronald more!
From distant isles a chieftain came,
The joys of Ronald's halls to find,
And chase with him the dark brown game,
That bounds o'er Albin's hills of wind.

'Twas Moy; whom in Columba's isle,
The seer's prophetic spirit found,
As, with a minstrel's fire the while,

He waked his harp's harmonious sound. Full many a spell to him was known, Which wandering spirits shrink to hear; And many a lay of potent tone,

Was never meant for mortal ear.