ABSTRACT
She was sitting under the shadow of a fragrant lime tree, that overhung a very ancient well; and, as the water fell into her pitcher, she was mingling with its music the tones of her "Jew's harp," – the only instrument upon which Norah Clary had learned to play. She was a merry maiden of "sweet seventeen;" a rustic belle, as well as a rustic beauty, and a "terrible coquette;" and, as she had what, in Scodand, they call a "tocher," – in England, a "dowry," and in Ireland, a "pretty penny o' money," it is scarcely necessary to state, in addition, that she had – a bachelor. Whether the tune – which was certainly given in alto 492 – was, or was not, designed as a summons to her lover, I cannot take upon myself to say; but her lips and fingers had not been long occupied, before her lover was at her side.
