It is related of Carolan, Twalogh, the Irish Handel, that in his gayest mood he could not compose a planxty on a Miss Brett, the daughter of a noble house in the county of Sligo. One day, after a vain attempt to compose something in honor of the young lady, in a mixture of rage and grief he threw his clairsheck aside, and, addressing her mother in Irish, whispered—“Madam, I have often, from my great respect to your family, attempted a planxty to celebrate your daughter’s perfections, but to no purpose. Some evil genius hovers over me, there is not a string in my discordant harp that does not vibrate a melancholy sound—I fear she is not long for this world.” Tradition says that the event verified the prediction. _See Sketch of Carolan in the Edinburgh Encyclopedia._ * * * * * THE LOVE-CHASE. A TRUE STORY. BY MRS. CAROLINE H. BUTLER. CHAPTER I. “Each ambushed Cupid I’ll defy— In cheek, or chin, or brow!” Exclaimed Auburn, at the same time casting an admiring glance upon his easel, where a young and lovely face peeped forth from the canvas with such a roguish, bewitching look, as seemed to laugh to scorn the bold defiance of the young painter. “No! painting shall be my mistress,” he continued, “my pallet and brush my defence against the witcheries of the fair; for me there is no peril in a lady’s eyes; my heart is an impregnable castle—no admittance there, fair lady.” “Most wisely and heroically said!” exclaimed a young girl, who had stood for some moments at the elbow of the artist unobserved, now suddenly bursting into a merry laugh, and placing herself before him. “Bravo, Harry, you are, indeed, a hero!” “Pshaw! Kate, who would have thought you so near!” cried Auburn, reddening with vexation. “Alas! coz, my heart already aches for those unhappy damsels who will be sueing for admittance at that impregnable castle of yours,” continued the young girl, with mock gravity. “Have mercy, do—you have overheard my nonsense, now pray spare me; for, after all, Kate, if I _should_ ever fall off from my allegiance, here is the face would tempt me,” pointing as he spoke to the easel. “Indeed! what a vain fellow you are, Harry. I suppose you think I should make a humble courtesy for this concession in my favor. It is well you leave the city to-morrow, or I should be tempted to set my cap at you, and boldly revenge the sex. I don’t think,” she added, archly, “I should find the castle invincible.” “You are a dear girl, Kate, I know that,” answered Auburn; “but come, take your seat at once—you have just the expression now I have so often tried to catch, to make your picture perfect. There—don’t move—no more raillery for at least five minutes—so shut your mouth.”