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THE NATIVE VILLAGE.

Harf. (to Beawm.) I can hold no longer!

Beaum. (to him.) Restrain yourself awhile. Well,
my friends, in return for your kindness, I will tell you
some news that will please you. This same Harford,
Lidward Harford-

Mary. Ay, that was hisname—my dear Ned. What
of him, sir? Is he living ? ;

John. Let the gentleman speak, my dear.

Beaum. Ned Harford is now alive and well, and a
heutenant in his majesty’s navy, and as brave an officer
as any In the service.

John. I hope you do not jest with us, sir.

Beaum. 1 do not, upon my honour.

Mary, QO, thank God—thank God! IfI could but
see him!

John. Ay, I wish for nothing more before I die.

Hlarf. Here he is—here he is—my dearest, best
benefactors! Here I am, to pay some of the great
debt of kindness I owe you. (Clasps Mary round the
neck, and kisses her.)

Mary. What—this gentleman my Ned! Ay, it is,
it is—I see it, I see it.

John. O, my old eyes!—but I know his voice now.
(Stretches out his hand, which Harford grasps.)

Hlarf. My good old man! OQ, that you could sce
me as clearly as I do you!

John. Enough—enough. It is you, and I am con-
tented.

Mary. O, happy day! OQ, happy day!

Hlarf. Did you think I could ever forget you ?

John. Oh no; I knew you better. But what a long
while it is since we parted!

Wary. Fifteen years, come Whitsuntide.

fiarf. The first time I set foot in England all this
long interval was three weeks ago.

John. How good you were to come to us so soon.

Mary. What a tall, strong man you are grown !—
but you have the same sweet smile as ever.

John. I wish I could see him plain. But what