Hubbard beg. Усу. 'Al ^7 /ft i fV' •'i**'* ff,,™ ft OF THE "BOYS OF ENGLAND." UR Seventh Volume is полу before the Reader, who, we trust, will find that we ^ have not degenerated or fallen off from the position we assumed at the outset, but rather that there has been an improvement in each department of the Work—literary, artistic, and mechanical. But we are not disposed to rest on our laurels, or be satisfied with the success we have achieved, Therefore, in the coming time (as in the past) it will be our constant study and delight to gain the favourable opinion of our Readers and their Parents ; to accomplish which the best Authors of the day will work with heart and head to provide literature of a healthy and instructive, yet interesting and exciting kind; the most accomplished Artists will wear their pencils to mere stumps in producing all that is beautiful and truthful in pictorial art; our friends, the Printers, will display their craft in all its perfection; and the Newsvendors all over the Kingdom will be severely cautioned to keep at all times a good stock of this Journal for the accommodation of their Customers, With this, our Seventh Volume, our countless Readers are requested to accept the thanks and best wishes of Their sincere Friend, ^LIZ PROPRIETOR AND CONDUCTOR. London, May 1870. 4 INDEX TO VOLUME VII. CONTINUOUS TALES. The Rival Crusoes :— 1, 17, 33, 49, 05, 81, 97, 113, 137, 153, 1G9, 189 Norman Kenrick ; or, Middies Afloat 6, 22 Bicycle Bob ... 9, 25, 38, 54, 70, 80, 102, 118, 140, 150 The Hidden Crime ; or, Baffled by Fate 12, 30 - Philip's Perils, by Land and Sea .... 13, 28, 45, 01 V Robinson Crusoe the Comic; or, the Good Friday that came on a Saturday 10, 32, 48 A Strange Career, or, the Forger's Victim :—41, 57, 73, 89, 105, 121, 134, 150, 166, 182, Ш, 214, 230, 252 The King of the School; or, Who will Win 129, 145, 101, 185, 193, 209, 233, 219, 257, 273, 289, 305, 329, 348, 304 Robin Hood, and his Merry Men :-144, 1G0, 192, 208, 224, 210, 250, 272, 288, 304, 319 Tom Lester; or, the Secret of the Red Pocket Boot 177, 201, 217, 230, 240, 202, 281. 297, 313, 326, 312, 358, 374, 397, 413 Buffalo Bill, the King of the Border Men :~221, 237, 253, 208, 284, 301, 317, 334, 319, 305 Returned to the World . . 225, 241, 2G5, 278, 294, 310, 332 Disowned ; or, a Mis-spent Life . . 321, 337, 353,309,385,401 The Adventures of a Brave Boy .... 345, 301, 377, 390 The Rod Man of Paris ; or, the Sword of Justice . . . 393, 409 OUR CHIMNEY CORNER. The Bloodless Scalp 44 Jealousy ^ A Christmas on the Prairies 4' A Deadly Error ^ The Detective's Story: Entrapped 10tJ ■Tinker's Trembles 125 The Flying Barber 142 An Irishman's Adventure in the South Sea Islands . . . . 173 Ad vo i turcs in India 20Г> The Falling Mast . TRUE STORIES OF BOYISH BRAVERY. 1. Prince Clito of Normandy i)- 2. Kino-Arthur . . • WS 3. Prince Arthur of Brittany 12+ 4. Edward the Black Princ j 140 5. The Admirable Crichton 150 0. Midshipman Pel lew, afterwards Lord Exmouth . . . . 172 7. Richard II. of England 188 8. Cyrus the Great -04 9. Henry Stuart, Prince of Wales 220 10. Henry of Monmouth, Prince of Wales 400 11. Horatio, Viscount Nelson ?>u> 12. Sir Charles Napier, the Conqueror of Scinde . . • • 380 13. Sir Philip Sidney 3i)C 14. Lord Dundonald 412 SHORT TALES AND ARTICLES. The Labours of Hercules CO An Astonished Court 00 The Two Divers 70 Adventures of Alexander Selkirk 78 Presumptive Proof 94 The Enchanted Bristles 95 The Double-Breasted Sky-Blue Coat 110 Something Like an Author П2 Billing's Allminax 120 A Terrible Night 127 Colonel Cricklcy's Horse Ю0 The Compass Plant 204 Oysters in the Shell for Horses 382 The Wild Horse of Wind River 382 A Misunderstanding 397 The Bride's Trial 404 Rodney's Queer Will 406 Destructiveness 414 ORIGINAL AND SELECTED POETRY. "It's an 111 Wind that Blows Nobody Good" , Vain Regrets ^ To-day and To-morrow' Gipsy Girl's Song o* A Love Lyric ^ A Sea Song * The Last Plank ^ The Singing Lesson ° Tell Me' 406 MISCELLANEOUS. The Romance of French History 4, 20, 30, 52, G8, 84,100, 110, 132, 148, 104, 180, 100, 212, 228, 244, 200, 276, 2.12, 308, 324, 340, 35G, 372, 388 Crackers for the Ingenious :— 15, 31, 47, G3, 70, 00, 111, 127, 143, 150, 174, 190, 207, 307, 383, 390, 414 Correspondence :—15, 31, 47, 04, 70, 90, 112, 128, 175, 191, 207, 223, 271, 287, 310, 33G, 352, 308, 383, 384, 390, 400, 415, 416 Our Life-Boat Corner 30. 78, 128, 200, 287, 336, 352, 415 CHRISTMAS SUPPLEMENT. The Phantom Knell; or, the Ghost of Wentworth Hall 4 . . 2 Will he Return? or, the Strange Message 0 The Haunted Tower of Silverly 10 The Sailor Boy's Return (an Original Drama for Home Acting) . 13 Enigmas, Charades, &c 10 Conundrums 15 The Minstrel; or, What became of Young Spoon's Courtship . . 16 INDEX TO VOLUME VII. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 4 "The young ruffian Struck him a violent blow M .1 Assassination of the Duke of Guise .4 Catherine in the Chamber of Meziercs ...... 5 The Duke of Guise entering Paris 5 The Barricades raised by the League 5 "I guided the horse to the landing-place" 8 Thus they went along, followed by a crowd of people" . . 9 "4 It contains news of great importance, sir,' said the servant" . 12 "He sprinkled the floor right and left with gunpowder" . . 13 "There were only two of us ; we fought enough for a thousand '* . 1G "Regardless of consequences, Ned Summers fired" . . .17 Assassination of Henry IV. of France . . . . . . 20 Execution of Ravaillac 21 Siege of Paris by Henry IV. 21 Henry IV. at the Battle of Ivry 21 "It was a race for life or death" 24 "' For the future we can only be distant acquaintances,1 said Polly Warner" 25 "The Incendiary springs to his feet and rushes at the window" . 28 "' My heart is beating like a double-action steam hammer with unmitigated affection"' 32 "Hearing a loud smack like a young cannon, I found the arbour harboured Friday and Frizzawigga" 32 "The huge trunk, with some of the Indians, fell into the abyss" . 33 Duel between Montmorency and Beauvron 36 Assassination of Marshal D'Ancre 37 Interview of Louis ХШ. with his Mother 37 Death-bed of Louis XIII 37 ** The pursued ran swiftly, but all in vain" 40 "* So they haven't caught you yet?'" 41 "' Leave me, or it will be worse for you,* she said" . . .44 "' It was a savage way to treat a man,' said Jasper" . . . . 45 "We receive the congratulations of everybody" . . .48 "' One step further and you are a dead man"' 40 Louis XIV. attains his Majority 52 Barricades in Paris 53 Wars of the Fronde 53 Flight of the Regent and Louis 53 "Cabby gave him one cut with the whip" 50 "* He is hit,* said Pendle" 57 "The * labours ' were pyramids of men" GO "They stood and looked at the dead man" Gl "The whole party of monkeys attacked the dog . . . . G5 Escape of the Prince of Conde í;8 Duel between the Dukes of Beaufort and Nemours ... 09 Death of Turenne GO "Bob held the hand that had the knife, aud gave Luke a good shaking" 72 "The sight of the animal attracted every human being from the cottages" 73 "A shot from his gun cracked the Redskin's cranium" . . . 77 "The solitary threw himself at Robin's feet" 77 The Minstrel ; or what became of Young Spoon's Courtship. Part 2. HO "Harry gave a loud shriek as he feil" 81 Indian Warfare in Canada 84 The Cemetery of St. Medard 85 The People of Paris threatening John Law 85 "One took him by the throat; the other's hand was thrust in his pocket" 88 "Most of the people stopped at the inn" 80 Portrait of Prince Clito 02 "The shot was a fatal one" 03 "He did not live to complete the sentence" 97 The French Royal Family at Trianon 100 Attack on the House of Réveillon 101 Voltaire returning from Exile 101 Louise L'Enclos listening to the Conversation . . . .101 «' They looked in blank dismay" 104 "Oscar levelled his gun and fired" 105 Portrait of King Arthur 108 "He relaxed his grasp, and then fell downwards" , . . . 100 "In the struggle the gun went off" .113 The French Nobles and Clergy object to pay Taxes. . . . 11G Louis taking Leave of his Wife and Children 117 "This is my wife; you shall not arrest her" . . . .117 The First Reading of the Marseillaise 117 "* What's the matter now V growled John Stout" . . , , 120 "* Come down,* said Pendle, *or it will be worse for you.'" . , 121 Portrait of Prince Arthur of Brittany 124 "Suddenly he turned and faced Tom Potts" 125 "He laid hold of Baynes, and administered a sound castigation" . 120 Arrest of Robespierre's Companions 132 Applying the Torture 133 Death of D'Etrees 133 French Soldiers Plundering a German House 133 "* Barney, you must keep your eye on that fellow '" . . . . 13G *' On every side were signs of a conflict" . . . , . . 137 i Portrait of Edward the Black Prince . . . , . . , 140 "Jonas Humbleback sat at the table" 141 "Down I rushed, razor in one hand, lather brush in the other " . . 141 "The whole party pounced upon Robin" 144 «' I bolted with the leg of mutton" 144 "; Stop till my man has had a little brandy,' said Crawley" . . 145 Assassination of General Kleber 148 Bonaparte at the Pyramids 140 Departure of Bonaparte for Egypt 149 General Menou Addressing his Troops 140 "With one powerful wrench, he forced the top bar out of its place " . 152 "They clambered to the foot of the falls" 153 Portrait of the Admirable Crichton 166 I "The man who had done the deed sat with the pistol before him " . 167 «* About ten servants brought in some beef and a gigantic pudding" , ICO "The outlaws swore eternal friendship" 160 "Frank threw off his jacket; then in he plunged" . . . . 161 Execution of the Due d'Enghien 164 The Cavalry Fight at Jena 165 Napoleon at Austcrlitz 165 Meeting of tlie Two Emperors 165 "She smothered a half-uttered scream, and held up the candle" . 168 "The dog had pinned Samuel by the back of the neck" , . . 160 Portrait of Midshipman Pellew 172 "He exerted his strength, and down came the ponderous mass" . 173 "They fought five hundred and twenty-seven rounds . . .176 "They hoisted him up by the waist" 176 "Tom exerted all his strength to put the yacht about" . . .177 Murat Suppressing the Spanish Insurrection 180 French Cavalry attacking English Infantry 181 Napoleon and his intended Assassin 181 INDEX TO VOLUME VII. vii Napoleon Rescuing the Empress Marie Louise . . * .181 "1 Well, my dear girl, how have you been?' said Pendle" . . . 184 "The door suddenly opened, and Dr. Whackley appeared" . . 185 Portrait of Richard II. of England 188 "His Harry was, after all—a girl" 189 "'What'llyoubu^buyjbuy?'" 192 "' Murder Г bellowed Freddy, holding up his hand with the crab" 103 The Passage of the River Berisina . , 19G Departure of the Russian Spy ^ Massacre of Wounded French by the Cossacks . . • .107 Entry of Murat into Naples 197 "A light was procured, and the party entered" 200 "He missel his hold, and fell into the sea" 201 Portrait of Cyrus the Great 20* "We continued the struggle after falling" ~öi> "Robin handed his card with a bow" 208 t; The result was, that Freddy fell out of his boat" . . . . 209 Napoleon Addressing the Senate The young King of Rome refusing to quit the Tuilleries . . . 213 Finding the Body of Poniatowski 21,i* Napoleon taking leave of his Troops at Fontainbleau . . . 213 "Pendle staggered to a chair; the paper dropped from his hands" 21G "Tom struck up the fellow's arm suddenly" 217 Henry Stuart, Prince of Wales 220 "Wild Bill and our hero rode on, dealing death around them" . 221 "This is our old friend Little John himself" .... 224 "The Baron aims a blow with his telescope" 224 "' Home,' muttered the old man, * where is that V" . . . 225 Reception of Napoleon on board the " Bellerophon" . . . 228 Napoleon's last glimpse of France 229 Execution of Murat 229 Marshal Ney bidding Adieu to his Family 229 "Apparently, he was the only survivor of the wreck" ... 232 "He held in hia hand a piece of paper like a cheque, or bank-note" 233 44 Not a soul was there to save the sleeping man" .... 23G Portrait of Buffalo Bill 23T "* What's the row ?» asked the landlord" 240 "* He will die unless yon help him,' said the boy" . . . . 241 Didier's Flight from Justice The Fate of Captain Rozet 245 The Tomb of Napoleon 245 Dismissal from office of Chateaubriand "The girl paused before a dingy-looking house" 2^8 "Frank waited an opportunity; at last it came" . * • • 249 "Maria was struggling violently to escape from the house" . . 252 Portrait of Dave Tutt 253 "Will Scarlett looked as if he had been sold" .... 25G A Drawn Battle—drawn by our Artist 250 "4 Hurrah ! the game is ours !' shouted Frank" . . . .257 Lafayette Visiting the Barricades 260 A Timely Arrest 201 Funeral Oration over those who fell at the Barricades . . . . 201 Seizure of the French Newspapers 261 "They were immediately seized and dragged to the boat" . . . 204 "He seized the iron bar and came slowly towards me" . . . 205 Portrait of Wild Bill 260 "< Help me,' cried Bold Robin" 272 « Your reverence must fork over" 272 "The Professor's pipe was shivered by the explosion" . . .273 Sacking the Palace of the Archbishop of Paris. . . . ... 270 Landing of the Duchess de Berri 277 The Duchess de Berri in the Peasant's Hut 277 Arrest of the Duchess de Berri 277 4 He fell dead at my feet" . 280 44 * A nugget I1 exclaimed Tom, *we have found a gold mine, my boys'" 281 Portrait of Lillie 2S4 "He walked up to the Prince, and made a tremendous bow" . . 288 "4 Nothing remains but to pronounce punishment,' said the magis- trate" 280 Landing the Remains of Napoleon 292 View of the Harbour at Brest, witlithc Ship containing Napoleon's Remains 293 An Algerian Tragedy 293 Duel between Gcnc al Bugeamb auiH M. Dulong . ...» 293 "Nancy Bell was making her way through the snow to the town" . "4 Stand back !' exclaimed Tom, fearlessly" Henry of Monmouth, Prince of Wales Portrait of Ma-no-tec *' The gallant Robin he bowed a bow" "Prince John put on more speed" "Catching hold of the wheel, he was lifted up out of the water" . The Attack on the Chamber of Deputies Portrait of Marshal Clauzel Surrender of Abd-el-Kader How the French form Barricades 41 4 Read it aloud,' said Darrel" "'Stop and surrender !' exclaimed Tom" Horatio, Viscount Nelson Portrait of Frank Stark , . . The Fail of a Great Man Last Scene of all (Shakespeare) 1. The arrival of the Masked Lady. 2. "* You won't give in, ch V roared the infuriated man" The Riot in the National Assembly The Fountains at Versailles Peasants of Corsica » • Portrait of Lamartine "Tom and* his companion fired at the same moment" . . . "4 Oh, my hat I' shouted the Professor, dancing round " . "He drank the contents, and fell to the floor—dead!" . . . Portrait of Kitty Muldoon M Richard stood defiant over his defeated foe" Attack on the Barricades Death wound of the Archbishop of Paris View of the City of Rouen from the River "* What ails you, Dempster V inquired Fen ton, with surprise" . . "A light, boyish form darted in front, and caught the reins" "Hurrah I for home" Portrait of Colonel M'Kandlas ....... "'Take my advice, and go,' said the strange man" . . . . Artillery Attacking the Barricades ....... Louis Napoleon Addressing the Chamber of Representatives . . French Officers in the Tent of Abd-el-Helim See!' exclaimed Mrs. Fenton, * what is that?'" . . . . "Dixon rode forth, and met the leader of the other band" . Baynes makes a Confession Portrait of Joe Bevins 44 Again Richard forced Douglas back into the water" . . . Dismissal of General Changarnier Louis Napoleon's Triumphant Entry into Strasbourg . . . . Arrest of General Lamoricierc "4 You scoundrel! What are you doing here?' exclaimed Barnett" ** Dixon retorted by firing at the brutal Indian" Portrait of Charles Napier "Exerting all his strength, he bore up the great mass of timber11 . "* It was Douglas who fired the shot!' cried Newton Rae . . . Proclamation of War against Russia Orsini's attempt to Assassinate Louis Napoleon .... Marriage of the Emperor Napoleon III "4 How came you in this strange disguise ?' iisked Benson" . "« The dice shall decide, my boys,' said he" Portrait of Sir Philip Sidney "At that moment Captain Bowler recognised our hero" . . . "' Fly, Dick, fly !' cried Newton Rae! 4 you have killed him !'" 44 Rachel looked dreamily round the neglected spot" . . . • "Guy, with a friend, watched his cousin, who was being intro- duced" 4 Oí? "4 There is no one within hearing, Madame '" . - • . 409 Portrait of Lord Dundonald 412 "Tom fired at the retreating figure" 413 ILLUSTRATIONS IN CHRISTMAS NUMBER. 44 ' Stay, spirit! Stand and answer mc 1'" 1 44 Two ruffians were creeping cautiously up to him "... 8 "Demons and Elves of every size and kind danced across thu room" 9 "4The sailor boy has returned to claim your hand1" . . . . 13 The Minstrel; or, What became of Young Spoons Courtship . 16 290 297 300 301 304 304 305 308 309 309 309 312 313 316 317 320 320 321 324 323 325 325 328 329 332 333 337 340 341 341 344 345 348 349 353 35G 357 357 300 3G1 3G4 3G5 3G9 372 373 373 37G 377 380 381 385 388 389 389 392 393 396 397 401 405 LONDON: KELLT AND CO., ГГ.1ХТЕПУ, 1Г), GATE STttEET, LINCOLN'S 1УХ FIELDS. W.C. Dbcembbii 1, 136ft, November 22, 18G9, Some years ago, an island suddenly appeared on the coast of Norfolk within the jurisdiction of the corporation of the ancient and venerable town of Yarmouth. At first it was only a sand bank. By degrees, however, by the agglomeration of seaweed and other vegetable substances, it be- gan to show signs of becoming valuable. It increased also in size, and after some years was more like a verdure-clad meadow than a sand bank. As it was likely to increase yearly in import- ance, it was claimed by the corporation, and also- by the lord of the manor. The latter, acting with decision, built a small wooden hut on the centre of the island, and placed a man in possession. Joe Blake was what is, called a Jaek-of-all. 2 CDECEMßElt 1, 1Ш. BOYS OE ENGLAND. trades; a bit of a sailor, a bit of a fisherman, and \ something of a gardener. Under his care the island prospered, was cultivated, and appeared likely to do well. He made himself a garden, grew vegetables, caught fish, smoked and dried them on the bank> while¿ at the same time, he allowed bathers and: pic-nic parties to enjoy themselves on the level meadow and pleasant Strand. The corporation brought an action against the lordv of the manor to decide whose property it was, But law* was* slow in those days, and the matter remained, undecided for years. In the mean- time, persons of all' ranks. enjoyed4its fragrant breezes. One of the favouritô frequenters of the island Was1 Ned Summers, a youth of about fourteen. His grandfather was an admiral on the retired lis&and had but one idea of Ned's future. He was to^be a sailor. He was studying for his profession, and .fortu- nately for him one of his favourite occupations was swimming. He could already make his way from the^| mainland to Joe Blake's hut ; and from this man he received many a useful hint. The old sailor doted on him, and told him many wild and exciting narratives of the sea, always so attractive to the Boys of England. At length it became necessary for hini toleave.j Yarmouth to go through the preliminaries required before he could join his ship. He had dined with his grandfather—his father was away on•» a foreign station—and then made up his mind to;:pay one last visit to Joe. The day;hadJbeen fine, but for se veraL hours the sca*gulhi and curlews, which hoverediuround, had beeAriflyingi more and more inshore^ white: the bxig^fciblüö ofv the firmament was. chequered to wind\wd.-¿ byy those mazy feathery^ streaks called mate's ;tails<; Л storm had been brewing for hours, and when: Ned Summers reached the denes in front of:-the island, the strongicast wind became a tempestu-- -ens blast; by the* time he reached, the shore* it bad become a furious, hurricane, roaring, shriek- ing, howling and bellowing; "A bad nigl}t rfor ; Joe, -sir,?' said omvof' the men, who were looking out seaward. Ned Summers peered in the direction of the island, but the .boiling billows so foamed and tumbled against^ the leaden sky that he could make out nothing. *' I should like to--fetch him off," said Ned, with a meaning glancetat,ihe men. "Can't be done* sir,"'replied one; "no boat of ours wouliblive."' Л , .', Ned: thrust his handSriiibhis pockets, adhibit of hïàîwhén occupièd'iint.metlitation, and still •gazed;iü the direction"4of;thè island. Suddenly he caughfc^ight of a faint glimmer ■of a light.. The old man was ргоЬШу about: to.make some signal to.them*:. Next: instant the flare- of a torch was -seen,- and ■ 'theÄT.thöhut-: of il the guardian of the island: was. in a flame. Ш Jiad^Cvidentiy- done it on purpose. "Something,? wrong,*, I'm sure," said Ned ■Summers,>. throwing off" hiabjacket. "I.shall swim Л*' ThctmemAdeelâred tháUifcwas simply mad-; »ess* anduwouldconly^rcndeK;3his«own death The case wa^abandoned, bu&the incident was long remembèred b$:the friends^ of .the yoüng and gallant lad. CHAPTER 11. THE WRECKS ASHORE* Tins news of this gallant exploit^ which* was noised over the whole town -ando county; pre- ceded Ned Summers' arrival on1 board the ship tOAvhioh he was appointed^ ] The admiral took caresto-iét thé captain know of it; he mentioned the circumstances-tdr his officers, through whom it was made common property of in the ship. Ned Summers was now midshipman on board a sea-going vessel—a frigate bound for the Indian seas. His courage^ his courtesy, and manliness, at once made him a great favourite. Some of the usual practical jokes were played upon him, and then this persecution, more and more discouraged in the navy, wholly ceased. He had one enemyrhowever. ♦ Historical. Th^Wfcultlastedeoinotiine. Tho Yar, fiom which the ancient* tottn töokitfc name* waá continu- ally changing Its mouth, until* eclencè'and engineering succeeded in enclosing it in due bounds.—Palmer's History of Ytrmouih. On board ship; as in most schools, there is generally a bully, who is also in most cases very much of a coward. The officers of the "Sultana" formed no ex- ception. One Samuel Petworth, a midshipman of one year's more standing, than Ned, took a dislike to him from the first. He tried at first to tyrannise over him, but as lied was perfectly well able to take care of himself, this he found useless* * One of those pitched battles,' which are winked at if not allowed, settled the question of strength and science in Ned's favour. Sam then resolved to bide his time in the hope of; catching his rival.najsping. Inyaim Ned did his duty strictlyf \Vafc* attentive and respectful to his officers, arid' had therefore nothing to fear. .;■ Sam fumed with rage, and in propbrtion as Ñed Summers gave him no provocation, and was even inclined to be civil to him, did Iiis hate increase. The vessel having called in several ports, took its way at length to the southward. For several weeks the weather was all that could be desired ; but, after a dead calm, near the line suddenly changed and blew with extreme violence. Every precaution, however, was taken, and though the fresh breeze soon increased to a gale, and the sea was very heavy—so bad as to compel them to keep under close-reefed main-topsail and reefed foresail—the gallant ship bore herself admirably. For several days the storm not abating, and the dense cloudiness of the sky preventing ob- servations, the captain grew very uneasy. Fortunately, after a week's duration, the weather cleared, and the vessel was found to be in sight of land, both high and wooded, though no one could say what land it was. A boat was ordered to go ashore in search of water, fresh provisions, und any fruit or vege- tables which might be found. It was also the duty of tho officer in command to discover what land it was. 'As the long boat was sent with a large crew, two- midshipmen were allowed to accompany the second lieutenant in command. These happened to be Ned Summers and Samuel Petworth. The ship'did not anchor, simply lying to, with the fore*topsails aback, and the boat's crew re- ceived strict injunctions not to waste any time more than was necessary. Ned was delighted. Much as he liked the sea, much as he was attached to his profession, he could not but feel considerable pleasure in the prospect of a run on shore. He was, moreover, allowed a gun and am- munition, which added to the zest of the ad- venture. As they approached the shore and entered a 'bay; or-mouth of a river, they soon became aware of/the tropical character of the climate. THb shore was covered with trees, leaving scarcely: any landing places. As, however, they advanced higher up, rocks were discovered, as Well as a fine sandy beach, and^vhat was better than all, a sparkling cascade of water. "Pull away, my hearties I" cried the lieu- tenant, and, in a fewminutcs more, the bows of the boat grated on the sand. It was a very beautiful spot, but, above all, the bright, fresh water was welcome, and the empty casks being Tolled on the beach, the men at once prepared for the task. The lieutenant looked grimly at the two boys, who-were leaning on their guns. "lPam afraidj?' he said, "to let you loose on the island. There is no kuowing what damage you may do. Well, don't shoot an elephant, as it is too big., nor a parroquct, because it is no use ; anything else we shall be glad of." "All right,, sir." "If you seeany natives, be cautious, and fall back. Theres агел more savages than white men about here, liiexpeety? he added^and turned to his duty. , ... Now Ned would¡gládlJhiihve joined- Samuel in an expedition, but that' worthy, as soon as the December j, 136Э.] 3 BOYS OF ENGLAND. officer's eye was no longer upon him, scowled furiously at his companion, and turned away. With a shake of the head, and a light laugh, Ned went in the opposite direction. He soon found that the island, though so wonderfully rich in vegetation on the side towards the sea, was very varied as he advanced into the interior. There was stunted grass, low bushes, and small fields and rocks, on the summit of which he fancied he could see some- thing moving. At first he was inclined to believe that what be had discovered was the track of human beings, but his keen, quick and sportsman-like instinct soon indicated that it was something of the goat species. With a wildly beating heart he now made up his mind to a day's shooting—this was game worthy of being pursued. The rocks were rude and difficult to climb, but ho was resolved to use caution. Clasping his gun firmly with the left hand he contrived to haul himself upward by means of loots and bushes, until at last he reached a jagged summit, from which he could look back from whence he came, and gaze also on a narrow valley beneath him. The goats had fled from the summit, and were all in the valley below, prepared, he knew not which, for defence or flight. The descent was steeper than the ascent, and yet Ned, who was one of those who like not giving up an attempt, determined to do his best. At his own end of the valley was a small wood, and this he determined to reach. Lying down on all fours, he surveyed the path before him. It was difficult, but possible; and, without letting go his gun, he commenced. Slowly, but safely he reached the bottom, taking little care as to how he was to get back, and at length was securely landed on level ground. The goats were about forty feet from him, browsing the scanty herbage of the valley. Every now and then they would look up, and then continue their occupation. Something told the animals there was danger, though they did not actually see the hunter. Taking a few minutes to gain breath, Ned selected the finest and fattest of the herd, and fired. The echoes reverberated sharp and ringing in that narrow and confined valley. When the smoke cleared away, not even the spoil selected was to be seen, Ned stood amazed and bewildered, and half inclined to rub his eyes. Pushing forward, how- ever, to where the whole body of goats had stood, he saw by the marks of blood that his shot had j not been ineffectual. Bounding in pursuit and loading as he went, he soon descried the flock ascending a steep hill- side at no great distance, but too far for him to reach In the rear was the wounded animal dragging himself along with great difficulty. Several of the other goats sniffed around him. Excited to the utmost, Ned followed, after loading his gun. The goats were bounding from crag to crag and shelf to ehelf of the rocks, in evident terror, while every moment the laggard was losing strength. At length he suddenly fell upon his side, and, when the young midshipman came up to him, was dead. In the first excitement and delight of victory, all idea of the animal's sufferings were for- gotten. Ned, having assured himself that the animal was quite dead, looked about him to see how to leave the valley. He was determined not to leave his trophy behind. Turing the animal's legs together and throwing it on his back, Ned began the ascent of the hill- side. It was steep, rugged, and, loaded as he was, the task was very arduous. Still he persevered, and at length was near the summit. Below him was a small cluster of live oaks; above, one of those trees with its roots over- hanging the summit of the cliff. Ned grasped at this, and, as he did so, caught sight of the villanous countenance of Samuel Pet-worth leaning over and grinning at him. "I've got the best of it here," said the young ruffian, and struck him a violent blow on the head. CHAPTER IIL HAKD AGROUND. When Ned Summers came to his senses, it was quite dark, that pitch darkness of the tropics when neither sun, moon, or stars are anywhere visible. He was in intense pain. Every bone in his body ached, and when he strove to rise, he soon found that one ankle was broken or sprained. Dead silence everywhere! The morning and evening hum of the forest in hot climates was over. With a deep groan Ned fell back'. He was parched with thirst, and though he had his bottle or gourd of water by his side, it was quite empty. What had happened? He had a most confused recollection. His head appeared not to be as clear as it should have been. Then, with lightning rapidity, it all flashed across him; the storm, the landing, the chase, and finally the cowardly assault by Samuel Petworth. He knew that worthy disliked him, but did not know he hated him with such virulence. Then he recollected that Samuel had been once punished on his evidence, for what appeared very like theft, and threatened with dismissal from the service. That accounted for all. Now the terrible question arose as to how he was to drag himself to the ship ; the boat was in all probability gone. At this instant a loud boom fell upon his ears. They were firing signal guns to warn him that the search was either over or would ie-commence in the morning. Satisfied with this, Ned Summers whispered a silent prayer, and again fell off into a heavy slumber. When he again attempted to move, the pain was even acuter than before, especially in the case of his ankle. It was day, however, and he could look around. Near him was his gun, and the goat which had cost him so dear. All, however, was silent; no human cries, no firing of guns, nothing to give him hope. Something must be done or he would perish there where he lay. With a great effort he contrived to rise, but found that he could not walk. Then, for the first time, an utter sense of loneliness and despair fell upon his soul. The ship people had given him up; supposed him lost, or destroyed by the natives who pro- bably abounded on an island of such extent. At all events, some effort must be made to save his life. In his pocket was a flint and steel, such as boys in those days generally had about them, and a knife. Around were heaps of dry wood ready to burn like tinder. Crawling about on his hands and knees, he collected a pile, and, as fast as he could, set fire to it. It burned rapidly, but being very dry made scarcely any smoke. The sight of the embers put an idea in his head; and drawing the goat to him, he cut several slices of the best part, which, being tolerably full of gravy, and only done on the outside, gave him at once relief from hunger and thirst. Then he waited with more patience for what- ever might be going to happen. But night came again, and still there was no relief. That night Ned Summers was feverish in the extreme, and had odd and curious dreams; but towards morning rose with a determination not to be there and die like a dog. His ankle, from rest, was considerably better, while the bruises over his whole body were less severe. The remains of the goat he secured on a bough, with very little prospect of ever seeing it again, and then slowly began his journey. The valley appeared to descend beyond the grove of live oaks, and he thought he would try this way. It was easier, the sward was soft and pleasant, and soon he saw the wished-for opening. The valley debouched upon a kind of lake, which, in his present state, he thought tlio most beautiful sight he had ever sccd. As soon as he came to its banks—it was only a pool—he cast off his shoes, and bathed his foot. Finding the water neither too cold nor too hot, he soon undressed, and indulged in a thorough swim. The effect was magical. His whole system appeared renovated, his energies seemed to return, and himself feel alto- gether a different being. Still, when he continued his route, he had to walk slowly and with care. Following the outlet of the little lake, he soon reached a small river, which, of course, led towards that where he had left his com- panions. He contrived, by continual rests, by seeking the occasional shade of a tree, to come in sight at last of the open sea. Thé ship was gone! As he feared, he was abandoned in this wild and desolate region, without a friend, without means of existence, without hope tí escape! He had just eight charges of powder for all ammunition, he had the clothes he stood in, and, unless he became a feeder on roots, herbs, and perhaps fruits, he knew not what would become of him. It was no comfort to him that he was placed in a romantic and exciting position. Ned wanted to distinguish himself in his pro- fession, and not in contact with savages and wild beasts. His heart fell wholly within him. Had he even known whero he was, it might have given him some hope, as, if in the track of ships, he would probably be rescued. Then came the reflection as to why he had been abandoned without a thorough search of the island. He knew the captain and officers too well, he thought, to think they would lightly abandon him. Suddenly the thought occurred to his mind that, perhaps, he had lain insensible a day and a night; but, as this was a matter impossible to be decided, he dismissed it from his mind. The future, not the past, must be thought of. The first matter to be taken into consideration was some sort of a home. Like every one else placed in similar circumstances, this he deter- mined should be near the sea, as the human mind is so constituted that hope scarcely ever deserts it. From that position he would seo every passing ship. The next thought was for food and clothing. Of vegetable food he would probably have more than enough. Then came the consideration, was the island, for such he believed it to be, inhabited by any wild and savage beasts, or, worse still, by venom- ous snakes? The very idea made him shudder and look round for a site wheredn to make something of a hut. How was it to be done? His clasp knife was neither large enough nor strong enough to avail him. The matter was therefore hopeless, while in his present weak state exertion was neither agre cabio nor possible. Very downcast and miserable . Ned seated himself on the banks of the sea, to reflect. Presently, however, ho found the heat in. that BOYS OF ENGLAND. TDecembeb 1, 1869. position too great, and rising prepared to retreat to the shade of some lofty trees. As he did so, he once more gazed out towards the sea. It was low water and the sight of some shells exciting his curiosity, he waded out a little way through the pools, and brought ashore a number of oysters. They were a very coarse specimen, but they were fat and nutritious. They afforded Ned a hearty meal under the trees, and this finished, he indulged in the siesta or afternoon nap so essential in hot countries. When he awoke he was much restored, and his ankle, which he had bound with a neck-hand- kerchief, was much less painful. He looked around him. There were many trees at hand in which he might pass the night, but they were too high for Iii m to climb. Something else must be thought of. Looking inland he saw at no great distance a line of rocks, and hoping that here he might discover a temporary retreat, he slowly took his way in that direction. The ground was smooth, the grass pleasant, the trees, though scattered, gave an agreeable 6hadc. When, however, he reached the rocks, they proved to be arid and steep, covered only by a rough and prickly cactus. Ned, nothing daunted, moved slowly along, hoping to find some hollow, or cavern, or fissure, where he might pass the night. Nor were his hopes doomed wholly to be dis appointed. He had not gone far when he noticed one of the rocks to project over a kind of hollow, which was, however, choked by prickly and other plants so completely as to leave in doubt how far the hollow extended. Ned scarcely hesitated. Dry grass, fallen boughs, and inflammable materials of all kinds lay around. In a few minutes a respectable pile was col- lected; and, striking a light, he cast a torch into the midst. A dense smoke arose, which drove him back some distance, followed by flames which wavered for a few minutes and then burnt steadily. When the fire was over, Ned advanced, and saw clearly that there was a cavern beyond, but could not enter because of the heat on the thres- hold. He drew back accordingly and determined to wait awhile. At length the ashes ceased to smoulder, and, taking up the bough of a tree, he swept them on one side. Then, lighting this bough, which was dry and inflammable, he proceeded to examine his dis- covery. It was a small, dark, and gloomy cavern, with a very narrow entrance, and not a fissure by which light or air could enter. It was likely to prove a good hiding-place ; я • Iter in wet weather, but nothing else. fiowever this may be, Ned was compelled to ■такс it his abiding place for that occasion, as he could go no further. Fortunately he had discovered very many fruits as he moved slowly along, but did not ven- ture to try any save a wild strawberry and a kind of acorn which proved very sweet. He had his water bottle, without which, in such a climate, no sailor ever lands. A few boughs and some dry grass made him a comfortable bed, on which, utterly exhausted and worn out, he lay down, soon after sundown, his loaded gun close beside him and his bold heart not without fear of what would turn up next. But the night passed without further adven ture, though once or twice Ned was startled by singular noises. Somebody or something appeared moving about at no great distance. When, however, he peered out', nothing was to be seen. Leaving his gun at half cock close to his hand, he contrived to doze through the night, while awaiting the morning with painful anxiety. Was his mysterious visitor a man or a beast? CHAPTER IV. NED FURTHER EXPLORES HIS TERRITORIES. When the young midshipman woke in the deep gloom of that cavern, it was with a very confused idea as to where he was. For a moment he thought that he had been placed in the dark and close cock-pit for punish- ment. Two minutes after, he sincerely wished he had, as memory came back with its inexorable review of the past. Crawling out of the cavern, he determined to try a journey through the locality on which he had been cast, in the hope of discovering whether it really was an island or terra firma. This promised to be an arduous task, and could not be undertaken without water and provisions. He had noticed when bathing that the stream was full of fish, but, until he could devise a hook or line, or make a net such as he had seen the Yarmouth old men and women work at, this knowledge was of little use. Then it flashed across his mind that he eould be content if he only had Joe Blake for his com- panion. What wonders those two might perform I Well, he was not with him, and all speculation on that point was useless. Ned, keeping to the southward, along the line of rocks, was not long before he came to another stream, which, as a celebrated translator once said, was very poisonous.* He determined to cross it, and found that he could do so with- out swimming. It was remarkably clear, run- ning over a pebbly bed, and showing thus clearly its great wealth. But in vain. Ned Summers had no means of catching the swiftly-gliding fish, so passed on to the other shore. Here he lay down for a brief repose, and had scarcely done so when he started up with a wild expression in his eyes. He glanced around with terror 1 His gun was eagerly clutched. Then, stealing into some bushes, he listened with the deepest attention. There was nothing to be heard but the sough- ing of the wind. What, then, had alarmed him? A powerful smell of cooked meat. Under any other circumstances this certainly would not have alarmed him, but in the position in which he was placed it simply indicated the presence of men, therefore of enemies. Ned crawled slowly on hands and knees in the direction of the odour, for, hearing no voices, he suspected no danger. Presently he halted again. He was in sight of the expected camp. It was deserted! There was a kind of circular hollow, in the centre of which still smouldered the remains of a large fire. All around were scattered bones, which, recol- lecting certain passages in the stories of Indians in that quarter of the world, made Ned shudder. (To be continned.) THE ROMANCE OP FRENCH HISTORY. FROM THE EARLIEST AGES. By the Author of M Past and I-resent," &c, fcc. ♦ ENRY III., the brother of Charles IX., succeeded him. At the time of the death of Charles, ho was in Poland, the people of that country having elected him to be their king. Catherine de Medicia, however, who loved Нету more than all her other children, at once sent to inform him that he was King of France, and he resigned the crown of the former country for that of the latter. Although Catherine had been in fact absolute monarch during the lives of her two eldest sons, who were very young, a hope was entertained by the people of France that Henry would take the burden of government upon himself, that the intrigues of the queen mother would cease, and Let us never forget that every station in life is necessary ; that each deserves our respect; that not the station itself, but the worthy fulfilment of its duties does honour to a man. Woman.—As the dew lies longest, and produces most fertility in the shade, so woman, in the shade of domestic retirement, sheds around her path richer and more permanent blessings than man, who is more exposed to the glare and observation of public life. ASSASSINATION OF THE DUKE OF GUISE. that the state of the kingdom would at length become one of tranquillity. Catherine, yielding to public opinion, formally resigned the authority she had hitherto enjoyed; but as the monarch had neither the talents nor the industry to wield the sceptre in such unquiet times, the government practically remained in the hands of the above-named wicked and cruel woman. The crimes of this unscrupulous woman would make a long list, yet such was the skill with which she managed matters, that although an object of constant suspicion, guilt could never be properly traced to her. On one occasion a youth named Mezieres. occupying a good position at court, was supposed to be obnoxious to her, therefore his life was considered to be in danger. One night, Catherine was observed standing near the door of the chamber occupied by young Mezieres, light in hand, looking towards the bed on which was seen the outlines of the figure of the youth, the face and head being covered. Subsequently it was discovered that he had been suffocated, and suspicion fell upon Cathe- * An English scholar of experience in translating a boolc of French travels, gravely informed his readers that a cer- tain river was very poisonous—translating by this word powontwc, full of fish. The queen mother, however, cleared herself by pointing out the fact that Mezieres had been dead some time—in fact, that the corpse was cold at the time she entered the chamber—for doing which she gave a very plausible reason. The war between the two religious sections in France now became more desperate than ever. On the one side the Condes, the Colignys, and many nobles regarded the young Henry of Navarre, who had married one of Catherine's daughters, as their natural chief; for, if Henry BOYS OF ENGLAND. 5 Dbcembkk I, ieO'J.J 111, should die without children, he would be- j to come to Paris, fearing that he might be de- come the rightful heir to the throne; and the ! posed in favour of the latter, who was a popular Huguenots hoped that, if that occurred, their j favourite. party would become the more powerful. | The duke, nevertheless persisted in advancing. On the other hand, those of the Roman and the citizens, joining his troops, barricaded Catholic religion despised Henry of Navarre, ¡ the streets up to the very gates of the Louvre, his little kingdom, and his poor duchy of Bourbon, the revenues of which scarcely sufficed, they said, to provide him with a decent dinner. In a very short space of time, however, the evident capabilities of the Huguenot leaders, and the in- creasing numbers of their followers, alarmed their rivals, and the latter formed themselves into a league, of which the Duke of Guise was the head, and the object of which was the suppression of the Protestants, and te prevent the King of Navarre from becoming King of France. Henry III. supported the league. This monarch had no children, and his brother, the Duke d'Anjou, being dead, the Huguenots loudly pro- claimed that the King of Navarre was the rightful heir to the throne of France ; that all good Frenchmen should support his claim; and that every effort should be made to op- pose Catherine and the Guises, who desired to surrender the sovereign authority into the hands of strangers instead of allowing it to remain in the family of Saint Louis, of whom Henry of Navarre was a legitimate descendant. The members of the league sought assistance from Philip of Spain, and the civil war recom- menced with increased fury. The King of Navarre gained a complete vic- tory at Coutras; but, on the other hand, the Duke de Guise repulsed a corps of Oermans who were engaged in the Protestant interest. Henry III. soon became disgusted with the chiefs of the league, but at the same time had not the courage to take the part of the King of Navarre, so great was the influence which the queen mother had over him. ГНЕ DUKE OF GUISE ENTERING PARIS. The result was that he gave himself up to pleasure, neglected the affairs of his kingdom and became such an object of contempt to bis subjects, that it was seriously proposed to depose him and shut him up in a convent for life. Informed, however, of this design, Henry Ш. sent word to the Duke of Cuise forbidding him CATHERINE IN THE CHAMBER OF MEZIERES. the priests even assisting, and wearing armour over their robes. The king escaped during the night, but the queen mother remained in Paris, and succeeded in effecting a temporary truce between the two parties, on the condition that the king should call together the States General, or, in other words, Parliament of the kingdom. We must add, however, that the States General did not consist of persons elected by the people, but of noblemen, clergy, lawyers and a certain number of influential citi- zens selected for reasons which it would detain us too long here to explain. The States General were shortly .afterwards assembled at Blois, and the Duke of Guise hoped to obtain from them sufficient power to en- able him to rule the kingdom during Henry's life, and to succeed him after his death. But Henry, who sus- pected his designs, resolved to prevent them by a crime; and having placed some men in a secret passage of the palace at Blois, invited the duke to dine with him; the latter came, and in the palace was assassinated, his body being also burnt in the courtyard of the palace. This crime was the last one suggested by Catherine de Mediéis; who soon afterwards died, full of remorse for the many she had com- mitted. The death of the Duke of Guise "irritated the people of Paris to such an extent that they de- clared Henry III. de- posed, and the latter refuge amongst the Huguenots, became The king wrested the weapon from the assassin, who was speedily slain by his attendants; but the monarch shortly after died of his wound, being the last of thirteen kings of the house of Valois. The character of Henry seems to have altered with his position in life. Before he came to the throne, I, during the time he commanded the armies of his brother, Charles IX., he had the reputation of being a bold and skilful commander, but after he became king he was noted only for his indolence and super- stition. Henry established several religious confraternities ; but his levity in life made him disliked by both religious parties. The turbulent reign of Henry benefitted the people in many respects, though the greater portion of it was disturbed by violent civil wars. Letters patent of nobility were first granted to the commons, as we have already noted, in the year 1270, and the practice gained ground in succeeding reigns, as well as the custom of selling fiefs to the com- mons. Both practices were encouraged by the French monarchs of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, with a view to diminish- ing the power of the ever-turbulent nobles, and by none more than Henry III. The nobles, impoverished by their own luxury and extravagance, were frequently desirous of selling the whole or portion of their estates, and in the reign of Henry the commons were allowed to become purchasers without taking the titles and privileges oi nobility. At the same time an ordinance was made that nobility could only be obtained by letters patent THE BARRICADES RAISED BY THE LEAGUL. took reconciled with Henry of Navarre, and, in concert with him, undertook the siege of Paris, in which city the chiefs of the league were entrenched. But at the moment when the siege was about to commence, a monk, named Jacques Clement, finding his way, under some pretext, to the king, stabbed him with a dagger. from the king, or by holding some high office in the state. This plan was at the same time being followed out in England, and, indeed, most of the Euro- pean states; but commerce and industry had more effect in creating a middle class of society than any state policy or royal enactments. (To be continued. Commenced la No. 132.) 6 [DECEMBER 1,18G9, BOYS OF ENGLAND. NORMAN KENRICK: OR, MIDDIES AFLOAT. By Ihô Author of "Allan Ьтшюсп," ** Тпе Ycumo SETTLER," &LC.y &c. CHAPTER XVlL-(continwd). jLL this was effected so rapidly that I had hardly time "to mutter, "Why, the fool is going to shoot backwards," when the arrows, like a rocket, mounted almost out of sight in the zenith. While I was yet ad- miring the compact man- ner in which the- six arrows had ascended, they suddenly parted, and, with their barbs down- wards, fell in a line. Fell like a hailstorm, not as I expected, in the woodi but, horror of horrors, on every side of mc and my horse! My curiosity and amazement vanished in an instant, and sliding from my chesnut, I rolled to the bottom of the gully. But the rascally Indian, having discovered my retreat, sent volley after volley in the same direction. The situation was too hot to be comfortable, and I sprang to my feet in a moment. My horse, who liked the place as little as myself; was already up, with three arrows in the saddle. Ï had just withdrawn these and had my foot in the stirrup, when a shrill cry of pain from Neptune compelled me to pause. An arrow had entered the weh of one of his feet, and pinned the paw to the earth. As I had no time just then to attend to wounds, I broke off the shaft, and freeing the dog, laid him across the pommel of my saddle, and springing up behind him, the chesnut mounted the bank, and dashed out of the gully. My horse had hardly taken a dozen strides across the pampa, when I heard by their savage yells that the whole troop was after me. I accounted myself a good rider and a master of my horse, but against these adepts of the desert I knew I was no match. I should be run down and speared in ten minutes for a dead certainty, unless I could, throw them into disorder, or distance them. The one glance I had taken over my shoulder showed me the troop spread out in one long line. "The villains want to surround mc," I said aloud, "but my horse goes splendidly. Well done, brave chesnut ! well done!" Patting his reeking neck with my left hand, as he sprang forward at the sound of my voice, I brought my rifle to my knee with my right. "Now for a rap at that bow-and-arrow rascal," I exclaimed, as a spear quivered in the ground not a yard from my horse's head. Suddenly wheeling round in my saddle, I beheld to my joy that the Indians had closed up iii a compact body, led on by—yes, by the very rascal I wanted. .My rifle was at ray shoulder in an instant, and I fired, and I only Iiope my aim was as true as it generally is. Of this, however, Ihad no means of judging, as I only heard a sudden commotion, and the floun- dering of two or three horses. Withtwat pausing to look behind, I kept ahead at a rattling pace, that eoou convinced me I had distanced my pursuers. When I at length drew rein and looked around mc, miles must have intervened between me and my pursuers, if indeed they were still in pur- suit. Dismounting and placing Neptune in the saddle, I led the steaming chesnut by the bridle, till I camti on a grove with a stream of water issuing from its midst. Though it was only three o'clock, I resolved to bivouac here for the night, and on the morrow commence a sou'-sou'-east course ; a direction which I calculated would, in three or four days, bring me to my friends at the lake. Having dressed Neptune's wound with some leaves I had seen the guacho use to the mules, I rubbed down and hobbled my horse. I next opened my blankets, and, taking out the few conveniences Cato had packed up, lit a fire and cooked my frugal supper. Nothing occurred during that night and the two following days to require mention. The third morning, as I was still disconsolately journeying in a sou'-westerly direction, I was suddenly made aware of the peculiar beating noise made by the rush of wild cattle. In an instant I was all alive and prepared to meet the expected drove; instead of horses, how- ever, it proved to be a herd of horned cattle, too far off, if it had been worth my while to attempt the capture of one of them. For two days my journey had been over a flat, sterile and uninteresting plain, but towards the end of the third the aspect of the country changed in a most remarkable manner. The level pampa gradually changed into rolling undulations, and at length into well-developed, wood-crowned hills, showing by the undergrowth and abundant foliage a rich and teeming soil. It was near sunset, and I had just; drawn rein on the bank of a broad, rapid river, with high, wooded bluffs on either side, when I again heard the sound of approaching cattle. In a moment I was all life and anxiety, as the horses—for there was no mistake this time— came on with their usual fierce gallop. 'v Getting my laeso ready, I spurred the chesnut so as to face the drove. My ear in these three days of solitary travel had become so familiar with every sound of the desert that I was able to tell to a nicety the number of animals about to issue from the wood., The only thought 1 had, as I got all in rcadi- I ness. was, would the white steed be among t hem? before I could answer this question to my own, satisfaction, a drove of twenty or thirty of the most beautiful mares and fillies I ever saw burst out of the wood before me, and*—yes, by all that's good, the white steed bringing up the rear. No sooner did1 the sagacious animal discover mischief ahead, than, with a couple of bounds, he reached the front of his squadron, to whom he neighed out his orders in unmistakable accents. "I have you now! I have you now!" I cried, exultantly, as I launched my lasso at the white monarch not twenty yards from my side. *' Hoorah! caught at last, my old boy," I shouted, as my lasso tightened, and I heard the animal fall heavily to the ground. "1.am sorry, sir, to be obliged to restrain your liberty of action/' I said, in a hypocritical tone, dismounting, and speaking as if the animal understood me. ** Confusion!" I roared the next moment. "Get up, you brute," savagely kicking the poor animal at my feet. The white steed, a great deal too sharp and clever for me, had folded up his legs and cleared the ground like a rope dancer, while the lasso I meant for him had caught the fore feet of a bay of matchless beauty, as I found when in the temper to examine my prize. I was so enraged for some moments with the almost magical escape of the white horse from the very noose of my lasso, that I could only .stupidly gaze after the retreating sultan, as he called his favourites round him and made for the wilderness. "I have a great, mind to turn the marc adrift," I cried, petulantly, raising the beautiful creature; "■but as Phil and Bob may be still without a mount, I'll keep the beast till to-morrow, to see," With this understanding, I removed the lasso from her fetlocks to her head, and tied her for the night beside the chesnut to a tree. Picking out as quiet and mossy a part as pos- sible for my couch, I set to to preparo my supper, a meal for which I was getting impa- tiently hungry. I was on the point of commencing my meal, when I became suddenly conscious of the ab- sence of Neptune. In vain I looked round, called, and even whistled, but could sec or hear nothing of my faitliful companion. As I reflected over the matter, I felt sure that the dog had been gouc for more than two hours. Where was he? Who in that desert region had seduced him from my side?" were questions to which I could give no satisfactory answer. The only explanation I could come to was, that he had followed cither the drove of cattle or the white steed. As I pursued the high bank of the river to reach my bivouac, I had discovered, some half-a- mile higher up, a rude Indian bridge spanning the stream from bluff to bluff. This discovery convinced me that I was either in the neighbourhood of an Indian village, or in the track travelled by the savages. The fear of the former possibility prevented my usuing my dog-whistle, or calling the animal by name. Full of apprehensions lest my faithful friend had been seen and speared by the Indians, I made a sad and cheerless supper, fully resolved, when the moon rose, to make a search in the- wood for the missing Neptune. I found eating without my companion by my side was unsavoury work, and, pushing away my unfinished meal, threw myself on my back to- think. I had lain in this manner for about half-an- hour, when I caught the sound of rustling leaves, and immediately afterwards, the well- known beat of Neptune's steady run. "Here, old boy, here, Neptune í" I cried, The next moment the dog bounded on mc, andr with a foot on either shoulder, was showing his- affection in the most demonstrative manner. "Down, Neptune, down, old boy, that will do," I added, patting his noble head, and-gently pulling him down. But the dog seemed perfectly insane in his ex- pression of love, and would not be put down ; in fact, so obstinately affectionate was he that hp fairly pushed me down again on my back. All this time he was taking the most unjusti- fiable freedoms; rubbing his nose and throat over my face in a manner that was growing troublesome. "If you don't give over, Neptune, I'll hit you. What thorns arc these sticking to your hairs and scratching a fellow's face Г' As I spoke, I put up both hands to push the* dog off ; as I did so my fingers came in contact with a thorn—no, a piece of folded paper, as I live! At the same instant I became conscious of a bit of string or ribbon encircling the dog's throat and securing the paper. My anxiety and curiosity were too great to allow me to ask myself what this note—for such it certainly was—could mean, but, cutting the string and raking up my watch-fire, I opened the paper, and, holding it to the light, began to read. A fly-leaf torn from some small book had been hastily covered with pencil marks, but so faintly that it was some time before I could decipher a word. Let the reader imagine what were my f eelings, delight, fear, and amazement, when I at last was enabled to master the following lines :— "Dear, dear Norman,—I know you must be near me, for the Indians who keep me a pri- soner, have just brought in Neptune with their dead chief. Save me, dearest Norman, save me, for the new chief has sworn that I shall be his squaw to-morrow. Think of my horror, my despair, and save your true and, till death, faithful "Juana. "I am all alone/* Was this a .dream, or was it real? I read and re-read the note as in a trance. Juana in South America, when I believed her in England, and a captive, too, in the hands of the Indians of the pampas! I was bewildered, and tried to imagine every possible cause that could have led to such a mis- fortune. My faithful dog, delighted at having performed his mission, had thrown himself across my legs, and, looking into my face, beat the ground with his bushy tail. "I am all alone 1" Where was her mother and the captain? Where was Martha, and how came Juana here at all t were questions it was evident folly to ask. Decembeä 1, 18C9.I 7 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "Save you, dearest!" I exclaimed; "yes, if! I had twenty lives to lose, I would peril them all for your dear sake." My resolution was taken in a moment, and I only waited the rising of the moon to commence operations. I offered Neptune my almost untasted supper, but the ,dog ihatl ibeen evidently well fed, and declined tthe food. "How fortunate it was I kept the bay mare," I said aloud, :as,arising, I went to the tree where the horses were tethered. Saddling 'the chesnut for Juana, and buckling the blankets on the mare's back as a .saddle, I packed щр my few utensils asl bcst could, and treading out my fire, advanced in the direction Neptune 3iad come from. The dog, evidently undcrstandinginyintention, led the way for some distance up the stream, and then turned into the wood, which seemed here of some extent. As the spot wbere he turned off was exactly opposite the hanging bridge I had previously noticed, I stopped.a-moment to examine it. The structure was one of the most perilous contrivances ¿I bad ever- seen, and made me shudder only to contemplate its passage. A number of *vine tendrils and slips of hide, like so many ropes, were stretched from bank to bank, and formed a Irind of foundation. On these were laid; side/by side, a number of logs of ,,mibnrked fir 'to: make what the Ameri- cans call a corÛiiroy road. As this was evidently our onjy means of escape, I examined the frail bridge iminutcly^; the depth to the river below looked fearful in thc/imperf ect light, and must have been itt least fifty feet. Roused by the low whining of Neptune, who had returned to my side, ï'turned aud led the horses directly into the wood, the dog acting as my guide. Half an hour's walking brought me to the skirts of this side of the pine forest, which swept in a dense circle round about a mile of open pampa or plain. As I stood gazing, I suddenly became conscious of a row of Indian huts, or lodges, built under the shadow of the trees, and in an extended half circle. From the anxiety of the dog, it was evident that here was the end of my journey, and in one of these huts my Juana was now a captive. If ever discretion and courage were needed, now was the time to show them. Cautiously leading the horses back, I secured them in such a manner that they might be mounted in a moment. I then returned as near the margin of the-wood as was prudent, and discovered to my infinite chagrin that a group of some dozen Indians were collected in front of the village. After a time, several horses were led forward, and all but two or three sprang on their backs and galloped away to the west. The others almost directly afterwards entered their lodges, and all was again silent and soli- tary. As I dared not go in front of the huts, I cau- tiously took the circuit of the village at the rear of the lodges, trusting much to Neptune's saga* city in showing me the one I wanted. I had passed, probably, twenty of these habita . tions, when I came to a large, square building with a small open window, through which a broad belt of lurid light fell on the trees be- hind. Finding a large stone I carefully placed it at the wall of the house, rind, standing on this, was able to examine the interior at my leisure. The apartment was so filled with smoke that it was some time before I could make out any object distinctly. A tall, blazing torch was stuck in the earthen floor, about the centre of the hut, while seated on a log beside the sputtering brands were four Indian women, or squaws, one, the oldest, hideously ugly and repulsive.^ The women were engaged in a low, whispered' conversation, evidently in reference to some one they were watching, as the eyes of three of the party were frequently directed to the side of the apartment. Though unable to penetrate the dense smoke, I felt convinced that Juana was the person they watched, and that this suffocating den was my darling's prison. A few minutes longer of persistent gazing revealed the fact to my eager and longing eyes. On a bed of dried leaves, covered with jaguar and puma skins, I saw the fair form of my love, extended as in sleep. While I was contemplating the possibility óf breaking through the thick wall of earth and brambles, the three younger squaws suddenly rose, and, after pointing to the flambeau, and jabbering to the old hag, opened the door and quitted the hut. As soon as they had left the old woman rose, and rolling the log to the other side of the light, again seated herself with her back to the door, and her face full on the lovely captive, Stepping down from the stone, I made a few hasty preparations, and, pointing out tp Neptune where he was to lie, and bidding him be still, I';! crept on tiptoe to the corner of the lodge. I Satisfying myself that the coast was clear, I silently opened the door, and entering, behind \ the old crone, who, with her arms round her; skinny knees, was rocking herself to and .'fro. à *: The rush of air from the door caused the did woman to turn her head, and our eyes met. - In another instant, despite her wolfish teeth, I covered her moutà with my hand, and in less than two minutes had her gagged and bound on <] the floor. . '■ "Norman ! my dear, dear Когтаа,! Öh, God be praieed V1 cried Jmraa, rushing to my. ;side| and throwing her dear arms Toundmy neck. 1 "Hush, love I hush ^tilbwe are beyond these murdering savages," I replied, pressing her fondly to my heart. "Cover yourself in some of these skins, darling, for we have far to ride," I whispered, throwing a buffalo robe and some skins over her shoulders, and snatching tip another for her to lie on. "Quick 1 we have not || an instant to lose.1' Taking her trembling band I hurried lier ;to<| the entrance ; as I did so, the door was opened in1 my face, and the three squaws suddenly entered the lodge. Swift as thought, I flung the buffalo robe over their heads, and tearing the torch from the ground, hurled it among the dry leaves of the bed. Then catching up Juana in my arms, I hurried back into the forest, as a burst of flame, and the loud shrieks of the women, rang out the alarm of our escape. CHAPTER XVIII. THE ESCAPE. I RAN with my light burthen with such speed that I had placed Juana in the saddle, and sprung on the back of the mare in less than three minutes. Rapid, however, as my movements were, before I could fairly get the horses in motion I heard the tramp of my mounted pursuers, while the wild discord of their war-whoop rose far and; near on the night air. "You have a dangerous bridge to cross, Juana," I cried, as we came in sight of the frail structure. (< I can laugh at danger, Norman, while you are with me." "Keep a bold heart, close your eyes, and leave all to your horse. Farewell! and б od preserve* you," I added, leading the chesnut to the bridge. "Call Neptune when you have crossed, stop for nothing, but ride for your life due south; friends are in the distance." "But you, Norman, you dear?" she asked, turning her eyes towards me. "Will join you instantly. Stop not-—fly.'* At that moment the crash of broken -boughs, and a wilder, shriller scream, fell like a death- knell on our startled ears. So fearful was the noise made by the gallop- ing horses and the yelling of the savages, that the affrighted chesnut, with terrified neighs, started on his perilous road. The marc I rode became almost unmanageable, and having nothing but a halter to restrain her, I had great difficulty in keeping my seat. With a heart full of terrible forebodings for Juana, and distracted between my rearing horse and guarding against the Indians, already within a few yards of me, I was unable to watch the progress of the chesnut and his precious load, "I am safe, Norman—Neptune! Neptune!" came at length like heavenly music on my ear, satisfying me that she, whose welfare was more to me than life, had crossed the bridge in safety. I had no time to assure myself of this fact, however, as two powerful Indians were threat- ening me with their spear points right in my teeth. For an instant the danger was so imminent as to deprive me of the power of action; while, not a hundred yards behind the men, who thrust their lances in my face, at least a score of well- armed Indians were pressing on to the fray. I had no time to be particular in my mode of warfare, so, grasping my rifle by the barrel, Ot swung it round with such force that the'btitt struck my nearest antagonist so sounding a blow on the bead that he dropped from his horse like a stone. To ¿reverse my piece, and discharge its contents at the second Indian, was the work of a mo-. ment. The man fell forward on the neck of his horse, which, terrified at the report, swerved rounóV and, with its companion, galloped back into thei wood. v ; The two horses* gashing into the midst of the* advancing band, the whole body were thrown, iñtó instant disorder. v \ Taking advantage of their confusion, I soothed the mare sufficiently to make her, take the bridge, though I could feel every muscle of her body tremble under me. I bad.gained nearly the centre when I heard the savage yell that told me the Indians had gamecLtheTwnk. "My/Göd I" I exclaimed; "if they attempt ;to follow *me, *I am lost," for the bridge was swaying backwards and forwards like a swing. A spear flew singing past my ear, and satisfied me that I was safe from all but their long lances. Another and another passed me rapidly, and nothing but the rocking bridge saved me from, instant death. Another danger, however, soon made me in-: sensible to this. The mare, afraid to go beyond a walk, and*, pausing to feel every step, displaced one of the billets, and setting its hoof on the withes, broke through one of the main supports. How the mare recovered herself, or how I regained my seat, I know not. Scarcely, however, had she made two steps,, when, in quick succession, snap after snap, the rotten supports gave way, and I heard the logs falling behind me. Made desperate for the safety of Juana, should the Indians overtake her before I could come up with her, I tried by speaking to urge the, mare more quickly forward. The trembling animal, as if in obedience to my voice, took the next two steps with more spirit, when, with a tearing, splitting sound, the whole fabric gave way, and bridge, horse, and rider, in an instant fell into the roaring flood! My God I what a moment of agony was that I as down, down, an interminable depth, we sank, centaur like, into the deep river. In that instant I seemed to live ages of -suffer- ing, with one frightful, maddening-picturc cvdr before my eyes-^Juana flying over the. desert pampas, pursued by the Whole tribe of jelling and exulting Indians 1 Unconsciously I had clasped my legs so closely to my horse's body, that 1 was enabled to keep my place on her back, as, a moment after, the cold river closed over'both. Oh, what a seeming awful time that immersion lasted before the mare was able to rise to'the surface and I could once more draw a ga$p ;of air! Fortunately the depth of the river from >thö bank, the whole lying: in deep shadow, prevented the Indians seeing mc, or I could not have escaped their deadly javelins. As it was, several spears were flung at гапосзп, "I GUIDED TUB HOUSE XI) XHÉ LAXDI.NU-fLAOE." ■ bût in the darkness struck the water wide oí me and my horse. By the cursory view I had of the river at sunset, I was aware of the shelving of the bank on the cast side, where I believed I could easily land. As quietly as possible, I guided the bay to the place I had seen, and, to my joy, found the ground shelving so fast, that, after a few minutes' careful feeling, she landed me safe and sound on the bank. To give the poor animal a moment's breathing time, I sprang to the ground. The delighted mare, however, ins ead of taking this in- dulgence quietly, opened her confounded jaws, and gave such a jubilant neigh, that the whole pack of savages answered it with a deafening yell. I had hardly time to spring on my wet saddle, when the Indians tore down the opposite bank, and halting where it was clear from trees, and ■enly about a dozen feet from the water, headed their horses into the river. My rifle was wet and useless had it been loaded, but my revolvers I had fortunately placed in my breast, and they, though damp, were still fit for use. Levelling my pistol at the black mass of men -and horses, now nearly half way across the river, I discharged the five barrels in rapid suc- cession full in their midst. Striking the mare with the empty revolver, she sprang forward, and, clearing the wood, in a few minutes gained the opened pampa, now nearly as light as day. The mare, evidently delighted to feel herself once more on terra firma, tore forward like the 'wind, at a speed that made me easy of all immediate pursuit. A few minutes longer at such a rattling pace •brought me in eight of the dear girl I had never thought to see again. True to my instructions, she had urged the ■chcsnut to his utmost, and it was not till I was near enough for her to hear my voice, that she ventured to draw rein. "Oh, Norman, you are wet," she cried, as I checked my horse by her side, and threw my arm lovingly round her waist. "You have been in the river, and that horrid bridge broke, I know it did." "Well, it did, dear, but what of that, you passed safe; and here am I oucc more at your side to love and protect you. But why, darling, are you crying?" As I spoke she tried to keep down the rising sobs that nearly choked her, and mastering her agitation, she answered, in a low voice— "How could I help it, dear Norman, being so full of fears for your safety? I thought you would never come back to me again." "Did you doubt me, then, my Juana?" "Doubt you 1 No, Norman; my fears were for your life." "Dry your tears, then, dear; we are nearly free of these Indians, and a few hours longer will bring us to my friends." "I have no cause for tears while you are by my side. See, they axe all gone now," she re- plied, wiping her eyes and smiling to reassure me. "Do you think you have the strength to ride a few miles farther before we rest for the night?" "Oh yes, indeed; I can ride by your side as long as you think it necessary. But what friends did you mean, Norman, in this wild place?" "My messmates, dear; we all left the ship together and I parted from them for a few days, for what at the time seemed a mad freak, but which, I am now sure, was ordained by Provi- dence to save you." I sprang off my horse to tighten the chesnut's girth and shorten the stirrup for her foot. Before remounting I took the precaution to dry and load my rifle and revolver. "Poor Neptune is so tired; see how he pants, Norman." "I know he is, darling, and will take him up," I replied, placing him on the mare's shoulders. "What are you lying down on the damp grass for, Norman .' Take this buffalo robe, you will catch your death with cold." "No, no, dear ; it would only incommode me," I replied, springing up and bounding into my saddle, such as it was. "Why, did I lie down, dearest?" "Yes; did you hear anything?" "I did; those devils are after us again, but they are a long way off." "Heaven have mercy on us, then!" she ejaculated, fervently. "Have no fear, love," I said, confidently, trying to reassure her; "we will outstrip them yet," And the horses bounded off with all their former vigour. For the next few hours, keeping one measured pace, the two horses galloped in company, the moon went down, and the twilight that inter- venes between night and morning settled mysteriously and shadowy on the pampas. All this time, like the wolf's steady tramp, I heard in the distance the persevering gallop of the Indian horse. While they kept at a certain distance I dis- regarded both them and the savage danger they carried. But as the day dawned and broad purple shadows were flung across the plain, and our dark outlines caught their eagle eyes, the chase again became hot and furious. "Is it far to your friends' camp, dear Norman?" Juana asked, in a faint voice, as the sun rose fiery red from a rack of purple and golden clouds. "Shall we be very long before we reach them?" "My God! you are faint and exhausted," I exclaimed, in terror, as I noticed the deadly pallor of her face. "Far! no, dearest, no; see we are following the bank of the river, and that shows every indication of soon joining the lake where they arc encamped." (To be concluded next week. Commenced in No. H8. BOYS OF ENGLAND. December 1, 1869.J "THUS THEY WENT ALONG, FOLLOWED ВТ Л CROWD OP PEOPLE." BICYCLE BOB. liy the Author of "Giles Evergreen," "Nobodt's Dog,' "Fred Frolic," " Wildfoot," &c. &c. CHAPTER I. A CLEFT STICK. ELL, Bob, what is to be done passes my poor comprehen- sion. Instead of things get- ting better, they are getting worse, and, to use an old, but homely phrase, 'I am in a cleft stick.'" The person who spoke these words was John Stout, an engineer and smith, and the party he addressed was Bob Ready, a young fellow, who, in six months, would be out of his time. There were two other persons in the room, sitting round a table near the fire; the one was Mary Stout, the faithful wife of John, the other Poliy Warner, an orphan niece. The room itself was small, and fitted up as a counting-house and model room; it com- manded a view down a long workshop, in which the business of engineer and smith was carried on. It was called a factory by some, and a shop by others ; but, whatever its designation, the master of it had carried on a good business for many years with credit and integrity. It was on a Saturday afternoon that the party above mentioned had assembled in the counting- house, preparatory to their departure for a neat little cottage the engineer had long retired to of an evening after his day's labour was con- cluded. It was a very pleasant sight to see the old couple, and Bob Ready, with Polly walking by his side, start off to the pleasant little suburban retreat. Bob had now six months to serve out of his apprenticeship, and everybody, of course, who knew everybody's business, had set it down that Bob Ready and Polly Warner were to be- come man and wife, and at the death of the old people would come into the business and a large fortune; and so things stood at the commence- ment of our story. Mrs. Stout and Polly, hearing something about " things getting worse," rose from their seats, and approached the desk at which the master and apprentice sat opposite to each other. The latter, with his head Testing on his hands, was busily employed looking at a drawing; so intent was he upon it, that he did not seem to hear the observations addressed to him. "I say, Bob, I am in a cleft stick," said the old man, bringing his fist down upon the desk like a sledge-hammer. "Eh? oh, yes, of course," said Bob, eta. ting, and looking up. "Cleft stick, eh? Certainly; by all means." "Why, what are you dreaming about, Bob?" said Mrs. Stout. "What ails him, Polly?" The only answer that Polly gave was a cheery laugh that made the little room ring again. "How can I tell? Bob's sich a genius," she said at length. "Say ' such,' Polly, just to please me. I don't mind telling you, because I know you will take it in good part." "I don't know that I shall, sir," and, although Polly's lips pouted very prettily, there was a twinkle in her bright eyes that told Bob he had not very deeply offended. '■ What's that about things getting worse, eh, John ?" asked Mrs. Stout of her husband. "Well, they are getting worse, and that's the truth. Trade, instead of getting better, slackens every day. Last week I turned off two hands, and next week, unless work comes in, two more must go, and then I may as well put up the shutters, and chalk upon them 'To Let.'" "Not quite so bad as that," said Bob, smiling, "because if only you and I and Samson kept on, there be would no occasion to put up the shutters or use the chalk." "That's Bob all over," said Polly, "he never will cry ' down ;' but things ain't so bad as that, are they, uncle?" "Yes, they are, niece, and worse than that," replied her uncle. "What with bad debts and the money I can't get in, Bob will tell you that I am "Nothing of the sort, John Stout," said his helpmate ; "you know that I have got a little in- come of my own, and that you have only to ask and to have." "I'll clap my hand in the red hot furnace first, old woman. No, no, I'll touch no money of yours," said old John, vehemently. "Why, John, you are as obstinate as a Banbury bull, that won't be led or drove; and there's Bob at the paper again." "What's it about, Bob?" "I've got it, I've got it," shouted Bob, throw- ing himself back, by which action, without intending it, he performed a very capital somer- sault on to the broad of his back. "Ha, ha, ha I" laughed Polly, "I think you have. What ails him I why, he is on his legs again as though nothing had happened."- "Well, nothing has happened. The best thing you can do when you're down is to get tip again. I'll have the two men back, and add ten more to them, that's what I will." "Well done, Bob," said Mrs. Stout, " and all I know is that if you say it you'll do it." "Well, Bob, where is the fortune, eh?" said old Stout, rather sarcastically. "I didn't say a fortune, sir, but it may bring plenty of work," replied Bob, seriously. « Just shut the door and come round." The door was shut, and they all gathered round him, Polly, accidently, of course, placing her arm partly round his neck. "Well, now, do you see that?" And he placed the paper he had been looking at before them. "Well, what of it?" said old Stout ; "it's a dandy horse." "There you are wrong—it's a bicycle." 10 BOYS OF ENGLAND. [December l, Ш9. The three looked at one another. "Say that again, Bob, will you?" said Polly." "Bi-cy-cie, Polly," he replied. "Well," said Polly, laughing ; "what of it Г "A great deal ; a friend of mine sent me this drawing over from Paris, where, he says, they are all the rage, and so they will be in England, and the sooner we begin to make them the better, sir." "Stuff and nonsense, Bob, don't be bicycle mad." "I don't intend; but I'll have a try, and that at my own expense. There is almost everything at our hands, except the wheels, and a few other things. I'll soon have them ready, and if we can only get the start, you shan't be in a cleft stick long." "The boy is right," said the old lady ; "he is as right as I ever was in my life." "I wish I could find Samson," said Bob,, "I'll hunt him up somewhere and set 'to work.'" And with that Bob took down his bat. "Well, Bob, I leave it nil to you." said Stout, "because I have always fonnd you like your name, Headland not only that bntwilling; so we'll get hooffli You'll get to us by supper-time,, eh?" V "Well, sir—I—if I can find Samson, -we'll! commence to-night. Nothing líke^striking wh,ile¡¡ the iron is ho^" replied Bob. "Bight, lad, right. You have sfhe key of - /Bythis time fhqy'had arrived at the factory,*! and then Bob got out, and held out his hand to assist his companion. "No, thank you, Mr. Beady, I can get out by myself." And with that she sprang out. "And I wish you a very good evening." j And, making a mock curtsey to him, she walked j away "I know it can," said Bob, stripping oif his- jacket, "and done it shall be." "Why you ain't a going to work to-night ?'r said Samson, starting back. "But I am, Samson, and I thought that perhaps you wouldn't mind lending a hand. I'll pay you for it." And away went Bob to one of the forges, and began to get a fire up. If ever a poor fellow was put in a quandary Samson was that man. He had not missed his seat in the gallery for some years, and in ad- dition a favourite drama was to be out that night and he stood looking at Bob, who was just getting the fire up and^wasgradually pulling the bellows. "Well, good night, Muscle. I am for work. Don't you miss the play," said Bob, not looking at him. Muscle made no reply to this, but strode out of the place, slamming the-door after him. '"Well, I must do as much as I can by myself. It was too much ito ask the poor fellow to give up his treat and cometo work. And then Polly —гГП know more about it when I have finished Ithe''bicycle, and" Trie started as he 'heard the door open, and, looking up, saw that Huscle had returned to* assist Brain.. "Is that you, Samson?" he said. "Lost any- thing, chî" He got not a word in answer, but he saw Samson hanging up his jacket upon the accus- tomed nail, ditto waistcoat, handkerchief; then the shirt collar was undone, and the shirt opened, showing a chest covered with thick hair; then up went the sleeves, and round and round went the sledge hammer. "Now then, Bob, ring up, and let's begin; down in front," and the hammer went down upon the anvil with a crash fit to split it. "But now I say, Muscle, don't you" "Stop, Brain," and the fellow, with a good- humoured smile, leant upon the hammer. "You did me a good turn once; I have come to repay it." He held out the great brawny hand. "It shall never be said that I didn't stand by Öh, good evening, Miss Warner," replied you in the hour of need as you once stood by Bob, pettishly. me." But he looked after her as she turned the The next moment the hands of the two sons corner of the wall, and then ran and peeped [ of toil were firmly grasped in each other, round it until she was out of sight. | At that moment the door again opened, and a Bob returned very slowly to the factory, and j strange figure of a boy came tumbling in ; he was went in with the wheels and the other things ¡ pretty well all rags. he had purchased. He then sat down and seemed lost for a short time in deep thought. "What the deuce made her ask after that fellow, I wonder? Does she think anything of him? I often think she does. I don't suppose she would, if she knew all. I'd soon disabuse her mind, only I promised the master I'd never say anything about it, because of the fellow's mother. If I thought But here I am losing time. I must find Samson." Jumping up, he went out again, and made the best of his way to the house of Samson, who was better known in the locality by the cogno- men of "Muscle," in consequence of his great strength. He found that worthy preparing to take his Saturday night's treat—a seat in the front row of the gallery of his favourite theatre. "What's the matter, Master Bob?" he asked, in some alarm directly he saw him, "factory on fire? Governor ill? Anything wrong?" and ho I pulled up his shirt sleeve and showed a fearful bicep, "Any muscle wanted, eh?" "Well, not in the way you mean. Will you walk to the factory with me, Samson?" said Bob. "Will I—won't 11 Shan't be long, mother—by the time the young uns are washed and put to bed, I'll be back. I'll be bound Bob Heady here has been thinking of a summat, and can't do without me ; he's got the brain and I've -got the musclo, and that's the two things that move the world." By this time they were in the street, and in a few minutes in the factory. To the man of muscle Bob explained all. "It can be done, Bob, as easy as this," and taking up a ponderous sledge hammer, he swung it round his head as though it were a feather. 'Hilloa! Head-over-heels, what do you want Vr said Bob. "I saw a light—thought summat was up," and over he went again. The boy had been taken out of the streets, and was one of those who run by the side of the vehicles turning somersaults. In the factory he was known as Head-over- heela. That sort of amusement seemed to be the ruling passion, for if sent to one end of the shop to the other, he accomplished the distance head- over-heels. "Well, now then, since you have come, run to the bench yonder and bring me the tools lying there." It was no use saying run, the boy went head- over-heels faster than he could run, and in a. very short time the tools ^vore by the side of Bob. Then the two went hard to work, while the* boy stood looking on in silent amazment, every now and then relieving his feelings with a head-over-hccls. Midnight sounded, and then Bob insisted upon Samson going home. "We won't do any more to-night, Samson/' he said; "there are marry little things I can do. in the morning without making a noise and dis* turning people." "Ain't you going home to Stockwell, Bob?"" asked Samson. "Ño; not to-night. I áhall sleep horo there1* a mattress and everything handy. Good-night." "Well, good-night. This has been a funny Saturday night's drammer for me, ha, ha!" And the worthy fellow shook hands and was. off home. The next morning Bob went quietly to \\ork>. and about dinner time was surprised by a visit December l, iSßO.J II BOYS OF ENGLAND. from Samson, carrying a basket with a good hot dinner in it, which Bob, to the great joy of Samson, hugely enjoyed; then all the afternoon the bicycle became the object of attention; and so the time wore on. The bicycle was finished at length, and ready for action. As the men came into the factory they were followed by the master and mistress. The old man looked around. '* Where is Bob Ready?" he asked of Samson. "Here is Bicycle Bob if you like," said Bob, riding out triumphantly, to the surprise and wonder of all. "Bicycle Bob !" shouted all in the factory, and loud and hearty cheers rang through the whole building. "Didn't I say he'd do it, eh?" and the old lady shook her umbrella in the air. I never knew Bob to fail yet." "And make up your minds that Bicycle Bob will not fail now." CHAPTER IT. ТЛЕ CHASE OF THE BICYCLES. The first surprise over, warm was the congratu- lations from the old couple, while Polly's eyes spoke volumes. Bob had, as soon as the Tchicle was finished, taken an hour or two's exercise upon it, and at once understanding the principles upon which it was guided :and governed, had become pretty well master of ДЬ He, therefore, took several turns up and down the long shed, attended by Дead-ovcr-heels, and great was the applause that crowned their efforts. That over, Abel Samson, the warm coadjutor of Bob Ready, took a turn; but it more than once ended in a turn over, for Samson, who, al- though Bob's superior in strength, had not the tact of the latter. While this was going on, Bob and his master were in the counting-house in deep consulta- tion. "I tell you, master," said Bob, "there-must be no dilly-dallying in the matter. Wc must get the wheels as fast as we can, and go to work : let the world know that we can supply them, and then you will see how trade will revive." 41 But you see, Bob," said his master, in a hesi- tating tone. "Fiddlesticks, Johu," said Mrs. Stout; Bob can see clear enough, and I wish everybody's eyesight was as clear. Lot him have the man- agement of it all." "There is no one can manage the affair so well as ' Bicycle Bob ' " said Polly, with a grin. , "Thank you, Polly," was Bob's reply. "Oh! I am not friends with you yet, sir," she said, in an under tone. 14 Well, I am sorry for that, because I have no time for love-making now," and away went Bob into the shop, and calling Abel Samson aside, gave him directions how to get on with the iron- work while he was off again, for as many pairs of wheels as he could get. More hands were to be taken on, and the glad news soon ilew through the neighbourhood, making many a wife and mother's heart leap for joy. When the shqp was full, John Stout briefly told them that they were indebted to Bob for the bicycle, and then three loud cheers rang through the building for Bicycle Bob. He was again in the cab, and rattling over the stones to the wheel-factory, and was back again in an incredibly short space of time. Off went his jacket, and then it was a pleas- ing sight to sec the ruddy flames leaping up at the several forges, and the whole factory hard at work as a hive of bees. John Stout, a few years previous to this event taking place, had three apprentices. Abel Samson, with the muscle, Bob Ready, with the brains, the quick thought, and the application to cany the thought without which, thought itself is but of little use. Luke Graft was tue third, and certainly no boy carried out his name better. The only child of a widowed mother left with a small competence sufficient to battle with the world, Luke grew up a delicate boy, spoiled and indulged in every wish. I When the time came that he had to make choice of a trade, or profession, strange to say, he chose that of an engineer, and, in due course of time, was articled to old John Stout, but only with the intention of his being in the counting house, and there studying the art of engineer- ing without the hard labour in the shop. Had the motives which prompted Luke to take this step been made known, it would have been found that love had a something to do with it. Scarcely a day elapsed but Pretty Polly Warner —for so the people called her—passed the house in which the Widow Craft resided, and very soon after Luke had seen her the boyish passion took full possession of him. And so, in order that he might be near her, and have the opportunity of speaking to her, Luke decided in being apprenticed to her uncle. Abel Samson, the rough, burly lad, took an -immense liking to Polly, but drew in when he saw that Bob Ready was the favorite, and re- venged himself by giving the iron a more than extra token that he had the true biceps, and that he'd let them know. Thus stood matters about six months previous to the introduction of the bicycle. More than once pretty Polly had by her flirt- ing conduct led to petty quarrels, and at times a fight at the forge was near taking place. Bob Ready was not only ready but willing for the encounter; but Luke Craft, with the deep subtlety of his nature, knew that he should get the worst of a.personal encounter, and, although it nearly* came to a blow, it was astonishing how adroitly he always avoided it. Bob, however, had the best of it in more ways ; than one. Living under the same roof at the little cottage, he had the happy privilege of walking home with pretty Polly. There was great difference in the appearance of the two young apprentices ; from the nature of Bob's work, his personal looks were not .always of the cleanest. He often took a spell at the bench, at the forge, and the anvil, and thus he, by so doing, made himself a complete master of his business. With all whom he came in contact with he was a great and deserved favourite, and such his capability, that he was universally admitted to be the head of the business. While, with Luke Craft, the cunning double ways, with the oily nature of his tongue, gave almost every one a secret dislike to him. A circumstance occurring about this time ended the apprenticeship of Luke. A cheque for a small amount had been cashed at the bankers, and when returned to Stout was at once pronounced to be a forgery. When it was discovered Bob Ready happened to be in the little couuting house, and sitting in Luke Craft's place, who had left for the day. "This is very strange, Bob," said the old man, "I never drew this cheque." "Are you sure of it," _ replied Bob, "the sig- nature is like yours, as like it as it can be?" "I am certain of it; I never drew one at all that week, and to-morrow morning I shall make inquines about it." Bob had been eagerly scanning the cheque, and a frown passed over his face as he glanced still deeper, into the writing. "I have seen some writing like this before, but where I cannot for the life of me just now remember." He pondered over it a little longer, and then, getting off his stool, went to his own desk and brought out a half-sheet of note paper. He looked very attentively at it, and then again at the body of the cheque. ** It's the same," he muttered. "What's that, Bob?" said his master. "Well, I don't like to be certain, but I don't think there can be any doubt," was the lad's reply. "Doubt about what, eh?" "Why, the handwriting, that's аД." : "And who's handwriting is that you have got there?" "Luke Craft's," was the answer; "I found this a night or two ago on the floor, and I am glad I took care of it. *: Well, but what's it .about? Speak up* will' you ?" said the excitable old man. "It's a paper in the handwriting of Luke, giving a commission to a man named Balam to back certain horses, and" "What!" and the master started back; "that boy taking to betting Г "Yes, and something worse. Look at it; the body of the cheque is written payable to Bolders. Look at them attentively, and you will find them written by one and the same person, and that writing is Luke Craft's." For a time both master and apprentice looked' at each other as though they were the guilty parties, so awfully had the truth burst upon them. "Perhaps," at length said Bob, "there is more- writing in his pad," and, with that he opened it. "He has been writing your name more than once here ; and look, there is the signature, sure enough, and part of the body of the cheque." It was too true ; the boy forger had, in his haöte, betrayed himself. "We'll not say a word about this to a êoul, Bob," whispci-ed the horror-stricken master. "No, sir ; I should be sorry to hurt him," was the frank-hearted reply. The cheque was carefully locked up, and then Bob and his master made the best of their way home. The nest morning, when Luke made his appear* ancc, the cheque was suddenly placed before- hirn. It was sufficient; the ashy paleness of the cheek and the quivering lips told their own tale, and, without a word, Luke Craft loft the factory never to return. ■:* # * * • * From the early hour the men had commenced' their labour, and with very little leaving orí until the dinner hour, it was astonishing the- quantity of work that had been completed when the great bell rang for the cessation of labor for a time. Bob, mounting his bicycle, rode forth amid the cheers and loud cries of "Bicycle Bob for ever!" There was plenty of smooth road for him to go along, and it is needless to say that, taking advantage of it, Bob went along at a rattling pace that tested the racing capabilities of those who tried to keep up with him. The only person that could really keep near him was the boy Head-ovcr-hecls. Then great was the surprise of the men when they saw Muscle mounted upon another, and working hard to keep* up to Bob. More than once Muscle came to the ground, but he was soon up and in hot chase, and thus they went along up the Kennington Hoad, fol- I lowed by a crowd of persons to whom they were well known. ! It seemed as if Bob had been practising for years, so well did he manage the vehicle and so swiftly did he move it along. At the time this exciting chase of the bicyles was going on, there stood at the -door of a trades- man's shop a pony who seemed to be rather astonished at the performers, and so, fancying, that, as he stood alone, a little relaxation would! please him, he started off in pursuit. Then the chase became more and more- exciting, and great was the hue and cry up the road. Bob kept well up the centre of the road, whilé- Samson, keeping somewhat near the kerb, got into difficulties; still he went on well. The vehicles on both sides pulled up to look at the strange sight and to enjoy it. Cabmen gave loud shouts as the boys passed* them, and the occupants in their several car- riages stood up, evidently enjoying the sight. Kennington Park came in sight, and the chase- was nearly ended. Bob Ready had only intended to show the- great power and skill ho had over the bicycle, and was pulling up, when the pony made cannon against Abel Samson, laid bim sprawling*, in the dust, and then making a flying leap over the head of Bob went galloping through the.* park. (To be continued.) 12 BOYS OF ENGLAND. [Deceiuei 1, 1809. THE HIDDEN CRIME; OR, BAFFLED BY FATE. By the Author of " Cuevt Chase," "Peince Hal,' be. CHAPTER XXVIII.—{continued.) ^HE officers for whom Martin Fox so loudly shouted were not forth- coming, so he was obliged to go out and look for them, as none of Wilfred Carey's servants took the slightest notice of the orders he so loudly shouted. Not far from the house, how- ever, a circumstance occurred which induced him to change his resolution. He met the nonconforming preacher, who has already figured rather mysteriously in our story. From something'this man said to him, Martin Fox was induced to act as follows :— He proceeded to his own residence, and from thence sent a letter to Edith to inform her that if she wished to save her father from the shameful death of a felon, she must immediately repair to his (Martin Fox's) house, and there sign a contract of marriage in his presence. Edith had scarcely finished reading this epistle, when her lover entered. Young Montague was rather in the dark as to the meaning of all the commotion; part he" knew, part he only guessed, and a still greater part was as yet all mys- tery. Seeing Edith's distress, he in- quired the cause. She hesitated for a time, and then, with many tears, told him. Young Montague stared with horror and turned deadly pale as he heard the atrocious plot un- folded, and hardly knew what to say. He tried to soothe the weeping beauty, but was unable. One sentence came from her closed lips, chilling his heart— "We must part, Montague. From this time we must think no more of each other." "Edith! What do you mean? Is it possible that you do not love me? Have you led me to hope that you might have the pleasure of crushing my hopes when they seemed nearest fulfil- ment?" "Oh, mercy, Montague 1 No, no!" "What, then, has falsehood done its fell work? Has slander poisoned your mind against me? Still silent! Then it seems you cannot find one ex- tenuating plea that may relieve the blackness of your falsehood, and bid me not curse you, false girl!" "False ! ah, well, you will not mourn my loss so much thinking me untrue; so I'll not complain, for I am already beyond the reach of love and hate, hoping only each moment to sink into the dark gulf of death and rest for ever." "Edith, what horrid mystery is it you hide from me?" "Talk no more, dear Montague; forget that I have ever been, blot me from your memory. Fare- well!" As she spoke the last words, she imprinted a kiss upon his forehead, as he half knelt at her feet. Then, with slow and tottering steps, she passed out of the room. "I'll not lose her thus," ejaculated the half- frenzied young man, as he prepared to rush after her. At that moment a servant entered, hastily pre- senting a letter. "Away with you! I cannot stay to read it now 1" "It was brought by one of Martin Fox's men, sir, and the bearer said that it contained news of great importance. "Martin Fox! Give it here." The young man hastily tore open the packet, and read as follows :— "The unknown preacher, who once proclaimed him- self your father's friend, desires to see you and yvnr sister instantly at the house of Martin Fox. Much 'lepends upon this interview." "More mystery! but I'll fathom it in some way or other. I'll go." CHAPTER XXIX. SIGNING THE CONTRACT. In the meantime Edith had started on her journey. Wilfred Carey, happening to inquire for her a few minutes afterwards and hearing that 6he had re- ceived a letter from Martin Fox, at once guessed whither she had gone, and that her object was to save his life by sacrificing herself to the old miser. He followed after her, but not quickly enough to prevent her from entering the house. Montague called on his sister, Mabel Lycester, and, having read to her the letter he had received, was willingly accompanied by her. While all these things were going on, the strange preacher and Martin Fox were seated together in close conversation. "Yes, I have no doubt she will come," said the old miser, in answer to a question. "Then I am satisfied," observed the preacher, with a meaning smile. "Yet I should like to know why it is that, while you hate Wilfred Carey with a mortal hatred, you profess to love his daughter." "Reverend sir, you may, perhaps, have heard that she is beautiful and rich; besides that, she is the daughter of my enemy, and we poor common people sometimes seek revengt or injuries and insults." "•it contains news op great importance, sir,' said the servant." "Well." "So by this match, which I know is most hateful to Edith and to her father, I gratify ray revenge, increase my wealth, and gain a beautiful wife. A fourth reason, if such is needed, I spite young Montague, whom I have no cause to love." "Excellent reasons all. I'll not try to dissuade you from your purpose. But some one knocks." "'Tis Edith!" exclaimed Martin Fox, joyfully. He was right. It was Edith Carey who stood in the doorwajr, looking quite bewildered. Martin Fox advanced with a smile. "Sweet Edith, this is kind of you. It saves me so much trouble, and here we shall be free from interruption. This is the worthy gentleman who will unite our hands. f Ah ! the executioner !" muttered Edith. "Well, sir, what am I to do?" "In the first place," answered the preacher, "you must sign this contract of marriage, which has been carefully prepared ; but you have no witnesses, how is this? Why. the meanest peasant girl has friends to see her wedding." "Man!" exclaimed Edith, "have you no soul that you must needs torture one whose soul is filled with woe already? 'Tis to you I owe all this ; there was no cloud upon the horizon of my life till you came. My father's guilt was hasty rashness; not to be compared with a calm base plot like this. Shame on you!" "Peace, girl." "Sweet Edith, there will be time enough for such talk afterwards ; but you see now both the minister and the contract are waiting." With these words Martin Fox took the poor girl's hand and led her to the table. "Oh, is there no escape?" she moaned; "will not all our gold tempt you?" "I can be satisfied only with you, Edith; not all your father's gold" "Ah, my father! Yes; give me the paper." "Hold a minute," eaid the preacher. "Such an important document needs witnesses." He rang a small bell and one of Martin Fox's men immediately entered. "Have the people I sent for arrived?" "Yes, sir." "Admit them instantly." The man in another moment ushered two persons into the apartment, announcing— "Sir James Montague, Mistress Mabel Lycester." "What is the meaning of this ?" demanded Martin Fox, in a very suspicious manner. "I wished to make your trumph more complete. So, Montague, this is your sister? She is very fair." "Then all the more unfitted for the foul deed you contemplate," said the young widow. "Dear Edith," exclaimed the young man, "we have been informed of the purpose for which we were summoned hither. Surely it is not with your will. Ah, you weep; then I am certain consent has been wrung from you by threats! Confide in me, dear Edith, and my sword shall protect you." "Do you wish to retract your promise, lady?" asked the minister, in deep tones. Edith stole a look at Martin Fox's face, and read- ing on it all the black thoughts that were passhig in his heart, she turned again to the paper. "Do not torture me, Mon- tague," she said, with a horrible shudder, gulping down her tears. "I do this of my own deliberate free will." "That's false!" exclaimed Mabel. "Your will is far too pure for such an act." At that moment a voice was heard without, which Edith instantly recognised. "My father !" she cried. "I tell you she is here," Carey was heard to say. "I traced her hither. Away, knaves. I'd see her if a thousand such as you stood in my path." The next moment he entered the room, and Edith rushed to his arms. "My child, am I too late? Is the fatal deed done? Answer me some one¡ I pray you." "Nothing is done that may not be undone again with ease,' re- plied the minister. "Then I'll prevent it being done." "Be wise, Carey," whispered Martin Fox, "do not push me to extreme measures." "Devil, I defy yon! You threaten me with exposure, I'll expose nryself." "Oh, do not heed him, pray," exclaimed Edith, as she hurriedly signed her name at the foot of the marriage contract. "Dear father, I beg of you be calm." "I am firmly resolved officers of justice." "It is too late now," dropped the pen. Officers there!' Ho ! without there, you murmured Edith, as she her father shouted, stamping his foot with impatience, his whole mien denoting a stern resolution to save his beloved daughter from the fate that seemed so close at band. "Too late, father," Bobbed Edith, as she once more hid her face on his bosom. At that moment Goring entered with his two friends, Percy and Jermyn, in the disguise of constables. "My poor girl, you have, indeed, proved your devotion. But all your troubles and sufferings have been useless—the spell is broken. Martin Fox only sought your wealth ; he will never stoop to wed a felon's child." "A felon !" exclaimed young Montague and his sister, in a breath. "Aye, a felon that you, above all others, ought to curse. "Oh, good people, pray take no heed of what he says!" exclaimed Edith. "I am a felon—a sentenced felon. You have heard of Lord Howard, long since proscribed as the assassin of Sir James Montagne? I am he 1" "Oh, it cannot be 1" ejaculated Mabel. "It is so; and now, my poor child, by that word you are made a pauper, for all the felon's goods are confiscated to the crown. You are saved from Martin Fox, Mabel. Montague, see that she does not want for bread and clothing." "You have not saved yourself from my revenge though !" exclaimed Martin Fox, gnashing his teeth December 1, 1869.J 13 BOYS OF ENGLAND. furiously. "Seize your prisoner, officers; see he does not escape." "Hold awhile 1" said the minister, stepping for- ward. "Do you not think some other proof is wanting?" "Proof of what?" "That Sir James Montague was killed—that he is not at this moment alive and well." Martin Fox etared at the speaker. "Proof !" he exclaimed, "the law as expounded by crownere' quest was satisfied. I don't pretend to ask other proof if the law does not." "What's that you say?" said young Montague, addressing the preacher, "do you pretend to bid us hope even now?" "Listen to my story, and then judge for your- self. ¡jI am all attention." Well, then, upon the night when it was thought that Montague, your father, was murdered, two men were rowing down the river on the bank of which, 'tis said, the deed was done. Suddenly they heard a faint cry for help, and found a wounded man floating upon the surface of the stream" "'Tis false!" screamed Martin Fox, pale with mingled rage and fear, "'Tis false! you have been bribed to вау this!" "Peace, villain 1" said Monta- gue. At this moment Goring, who had for some minutes been absent from the room, re-entered with- out making any noise, and posted himself just behind Martin Fox. The preacher then went on w ith his tale. "These two men were of my own cloth and creed, and were flying from oppression. They staunched the wounds of the man they had found, and then hurried on to a ship lying in the river's mouth, which ship was to bear them away to the north of Scot- land, where they hoped to be at peace." "Did this wounded man live?" asked Mabel Lycester, trembling with excitement. "He did. Years passed away, and he joined the creed and ministry of these good men who had saved him. He heard, far away in his hiding place, that his old foe, Howard, was proclaimed a murderer, and laughed: but after a time the pious talk of these good men wrought an in- ward change ; he saw how foully he had wronged his wife, and then he longed to see his chil- dren." "Thank Heaven !" exclaimed Mabel. "He hastened to London, heard that they had been robbed of all by a knave who was once his servant. For a time—a short time—his jealousy revived, for he thought the two were _ plotting together ; but he soon learnt the truth" "In Heaven's name ! who are you ?" asked young Montague. "Speak quickly," added Mabel. "Do you, like these, demand my name ?" asked the preachei-, turning to Carey. "The voice seems familiar, yet I hardly dare call you и "Call me by my right name, for / am Sir James Montague, for these twenty years mourned as dead!" PHILIP'S PERILS BY LAND AND SEA- By Charles H. Ross and Quentyn Richards. CHAPTER XLVL— (continued.) S the sailor lay there upon the ground, he threw up his arms, and danced round him like a demon with a big head in a pantomime. "For two hundred pounds!" cried the goblin, in the same shrill treble as before, as he paused in his capers to breathe awhile ; "for two hundred pounds! We'll teach you to kidnap the Mertons." And then, in skipping round, he chanced to kick the prostrate sailor. "Well," thought Burgess, "for a ghost he docs kick uncommon like a human being." Just then he got another. "D e !" cried Burgess, springing up, "that's no cloven foot; it's a boot, I'll swear!" "HE SPRINKLED ТПЕ FLOOR RIGHT AND LEFT WITH GUNPOWDER." (To be concluded in our next. Commenced in No. 149.) Dearer than Life.—Fashionable funerals. The Earlikst Tubular JJiuuge.—The bridge of the nose. TJnPhilosophic Sages.—Two distinguished phi- losophers took shelter under one tree during a heavy shower. After some time one of them complained that he felt the rain. « Never mind," replied the other, " there are plenty of trees; when this is wet through we will go to another." By Heart.—A discussion recently took place between two friends on the eloquence of a member newly elected. "He has talent," said one, "but when you hear him speak you feel convinced that he has no heart." "On the contrary" replied the other, "everything he says is spoken by heart!" The Female Eve.—A modern writer gives the following enumeration of a female eye :—" The glare, the stare, the sneer, the invitation, the defiance, the denial, the consent, the glance of love, the flash of rage, the sparkling of hope, the languiahment of softness, the squint of suspicion, the fire of jealousy, and the lustre of pleasure." A boot it was, too. His disgust was so great at the weakness his fears had betrayed him into, that he glared savagely upon the goblin, and made a grab at him, clutching him by the shoulder. The goblin then appeared to be simply a poor old man of weak intellect, and very much frightened now. "Why, you old swab !" cried Burgess, shaking him roughly. "What do you mean by two hundred pounds?" The poor demented old creature caught at the sound with a momentary flash of intelligence, and mumbled the words over and over again. "He ain't got all his change," said Burgess, "and yet he can prate awkwardly. I've half a mind to give him one for himself." The scoundrel looked around him to assure himself that he was unobserved, and dragged the old man viciously towards him. "There he is," cried the old fellow, pointing over the sailor's shoulder. Burgess turned, and there, standing, looking on from Hangman's Point, with folded arms, was Mark Wilberforce! "What are you about with that old man?" said Mark. "He knows too much," was the reply. "Pshaw!" returned Mark, "it's old Jasper Wadlow; he's mad." "Mad or not," said the sailor, "he's a dangerous customer for us, so come down and lend me a hand; we'll make him sure." CHAPTER XLVII. A FRIEND IN NEED. Mark Wilberforce was not long in joining Burgess, who still had hold of the weak-witted old J aspar. But, vastly to the sapor's surprise, he insisted upon letting the old sexton go off scot-free. "Why, it will be ruin," urged Burgess, eloquently. "Let it 1" was Mark's brief rejoinder. "That's all stuff," retorted the sailor, with a sneer ; "are you afraid of the job?" "What job?" said Mark, with a shudder ; and then, before the other could utter a reply, he continued, " I don't know what you mean. I wouldn't take life upon any consideration what- ever." :< Unless it was safe," added Burgess. "I tell you, this old man" "Had best be left alone," returned Mark. And so saying, he jerked the sailor's hold from old Jaspar, who, finding himself free, fled with an agility one would scarcely have expected from his years. Burgess was quite startled; and before his presence of mind was back to his aid, old Jasper was out of danger. Then he looked like a boy who has let a bird escape from the snare—a mixture of rage and foolishness, the latter pre- dominating. "Why, you fool!" he ex- claimed, when he could speak. "You don't know what you have done." Mark coloured at the insult- ing words, and said, "Keep a civil tongue in your head. You'll make a mistake with that abusive bul- lying tone one of these days." "Don't you be afeared on my behalf," said Burgess, stick- ing his tongue into his cheek. "1 can manage to take care of myself pretty well." "May you always." "Thank you," was the sailor's reply, "I keep a pretty sharp look-out for number one. However, I won't neglect your advice, in case of accidents." Mark inclined his head haughtily, and moved away without speaking a word. Burgess stood still looking after him in silence for awhile. "He's a bad lot," he said to himself, presently. "Л dangerous lot. A sneaking cur like that is always more difficult to deal with than a bolder scoundrel." He was drawing a comparison between Mark Wilberforce and himself, you see, and it was greatly in his own favour. He did not show his fear before Mark, but he kept his wits at their best, and avoided the bottle. This was a sign of great caution in Burgess. It was Decessary to keep a very large weather- eye open with the usurping squire, as we shall presently see. CHAPTER XLVIII. THE BITER BIT. Merton was an early place. We inhabitants of overgrown cities, who turn night into day, and reverse the proceeding, look upon the primitive and healthier habits of the rural districts as curious subjects for observation. The young men of the age who had penetrated as far as Merton, and had seen the village in slumber at nine o'clock at night, spoke of it as a place where the natives went to bed in the afternoon and rose in the middle of the night. By this you will see that the young men of that age were as extravagant in their speech as in our own time. Now, when all Merton had been sleeping three good hours, a singular circumstance occurred at the Hall. To begin with, there was one of the windows seen to be illuminated. Then, presently, a dark figure was seen mov- ing about, its outlines showing with great 14 BOYS OF ENGLAND. [December 1,18di. distinctness upon the white blind, the effect reminding one, in a great degree, of the itine- rant exhibition of oiu* early recollections, called the fantoeini. After some little time, the window was- sud- denly darkened ; the blind and figure all wore the uniform blackness of night. What was there remarkable in this after all? One of the inmates of älerton Hall had sat up till midnight, and had now retired for the night. Was this all f Surely not. A slight noise was heard; then, with startling suddenness, a dark outline emerged from the shadow of the house into the faint night-light, evidently the figure from the window blind ■above, but now scarcely recognizable, since a long riding-cloak has been added, and- so disguises the outline by which alone we could recognise it. It glided away! I use the expression "glided" advisedly, for the midnight wanderer called up supernatural fears by the singularly noixeless progress that he made. And yet the lightest footfall upon that hard, crisp gravel should make itself heard. The mystery does not remain a mystery long. Moving yet faster along, the man lifts his long cloak up to leave his legs more freedom of motion, and then reveals—not the cloven foot— but one of such proportions that it gives an idea of the gout; and then a little reflection tells you that the feet are mufíled to deaden the 8оищ1! What can this man be who fears to be heard? Surely a burglar! Some lawless scoundrel from the great metropolis who has planned t descent upon the Merton pantry I The mufíled feet, as we know from the news- papers, is a burglar's trick 1 Speculation is mere waste of time upon such a matter. Let us follow the figure and learn the truth, if possible. As Soon as he gains the shadow of some trees he stops suddenly short and faces sharply round, as though to catch spies or watcherá, if any. He peers eagerly through the darkness, gives a sweeping glance around, and hurries on. Now watch the scene more closely still, and it grows'more and more exciting. Barely has the cloaked figure vanished when a second apparition shows forth. But this one shows signs of. earthly origin which are reassuring. It is clear enough, to begin with, from whence he came. Right facing M erton Hall there stands a group of thick trees which had before now served to conceal a troop of Cromwell's men who were hunting down a fugitive partisan of King Charles, and from the shelter of these trees the Round- j heads had fired upon the hapless Royalist who ventured to reappear in a moment of fancied security, and shot him down, together with several loyal men of îlerton. This was the hiding-place of our midnight wanderer number two. With stealth and haste combined, he made for the phantom fast flying from view. In this way he presently caught sight of him, .and anon he missed him for a minute in the darkness of the night. Then after tracking him in this way over hill and dale and field, for a good distance, they found themselves — unconscious pursued and con- scious pursuer—passing Hangman's Point. There was something in this spot that aroused unpleasant memories in the mind of apparition number two, for there was just sufficient light to sec that he shuddered from top to too, and looked askew at the withered arm of the project- ing tree which gave the place its ugly sounding title. It made him hurry on in imprudent haste, for his uncertain tread rolled over a huge boulder poised on a pivot, so that a slight touch would send it moving. It went over with a loud noise, and the effect was so startling that followed and follower stopped short simultaneously. The spy was, fortunately for his purpose, in the shade of some tall overhanging rocks, which, as the reader will remember, were to be found about Hangman's Point. The followed looked round and peered with an earnestness as though he would penetrate the shadows of night with his fixed look; but the follower was hidden effectually: the gloom was too black for the keenest vision to pierce. A moment of suspense. Then the followed man hurried on at a pace evidently meant to make up for lost time. At length, passing across a familiar country—tra- velling over old landmarks that yon and I have already noted in company, friendly reader—he came in sight of the cottage, or, at any rate, of its dim and shadowy outline, för he slackened his pace again as he came up within a score of yards of the dwelling and drew on more stealthily. The man who followed on the watch now grew more and more interested in the proceedings. He knelt down in a favourable position for observation, and then he saw that his man had reached the cottage door. The cloak was drawn back and a small ray of bright light shone upon the door, the reflection of a small dark lantern, which the thick cloak had sufficed to conceal effectually up to the present. A faint click reached his ear. Then the lantern was brought into use again, and showed that the man in the cloak was pro- vided with a bunch of iron picks, such as are carried by locksmiths. "Skillingtons !" almost gasped the watcher. Next, these were tried upon the lock of the cottage door. * He was expert, for the third he essayed answered his4 purpose, and the door yielded to his. push. A pause I The burglar is seen to listen ' intently for awhile—-his head protruded into the cottage, while his body remains without. Then the feet arc lifted carefully over the threshold, and this cautious marauder is in the house I The watcher gives a sigh of relief, for he has been holding his breath with the intensity of his interest while the burglar was moving so slowly. Then, with lengthy, but silent strides, he gains the door of the cottage, which has swung to, and, peering in, he sees what the bnrglar is after—and it makes him start in involuntary horror! The room where the burglar is moving about is the parlour of the cottage. At the back of the room is a door closing on a flight of stairs, which communicates with the cottager's bed-room.! This door is closed, and the burglar's first work is to pin the door more effectually than ever by driving a gimlet through the edge of the door into the wooden framework. But this is not enough. The dark lantern is apparently embarrassing, for he places it upon the ground an instant and then lifts the table to the door and another piece of furniture equally cumbrous, until the doorway is very carefully barricaded. This accomplished, the lantern is drawn care- fully away, and from those inexlfaustible pockets the burglar produces a flask of gunpowder. From this he sprinkles the floor right and left. He grows impatient, and, taking a handful, throws it thickly about him as one sows broadcast. This sowing he means to yield a valuable harvest. But will he? Ah! that remains to be seen. Having satisfied himself in this portion of the work, he takes a bottle of spirits from a cupboard and empties it into a hollow dish, which is placed in this manner underneath an old arm-chair covered with coloured chintz. And then he gives a final glance about him. He is satisfied with the scrutiny. The last stroke is to be played and then—the door! His eyes are expressive, and it. required no extraordinary shrewdness to read what is passing in his mind. The light from the bull's-eye flashes full upon his face, and it is as pale as the visage of a churchyard tenant. The expression it wears is awful to behold, and makes one shudder, There is a look of triumph, of hatred and satisfaction combined, that is downright devilish Î That fiendish smile vanished from the lips, the face grows suddenly stem, and he resumes his work. Evidently one important labour has been omitted up to the preseut moment. He goes up to the window and secures it firmly down with another gimlet. It is curious to notice that during this opera- tion the watcher and Vac Watched arc not more than three feet apart. The watcher is crouching down beneath the window, scarcely daring to venture to breathe for fear of betraying his presence. The window is fast. The process- of nailing up, which has taken a minute or so to accomplish, would require at least an hour to undo. The few remaining preparations- are speedily accomplished. The whole contents of the powder-flask arc emptied into a pile upon the floor near' the cup- board. Then he hurriedly screws up a newspaper which he finds upon the table, and lighting one end at the lantern places it upon the floor in such a way that he can just reach the open air before his powder-train catches. So he thinks. Alas for the mutability of human calculations. Having watched the flickering paper for awhile, he steps hurriedly to the entrance, and —Lo! the door is closed! Ay—closed and fast too! He gives it a desperate wrench, but it is as firm as adamant. It doesn't budge an inch! Puzzled, confused, affrighted, the midnight incendiary knows not what to be after. He gives a startled look round at the lighted paper, and simultaneously tugs at the door. The paper burns and smoulders, but the door docs not yield. He drags with desperate energy at the door, but all in vain. The paper gives a faint scintillation; a grain of powder by hazard had been screwed up in its folds. Frightened now beyond all self-control, the incendiary springs at the paper, and tries to crush the light with his foot; but such is his haste that he kicks the smouldering embers into the midst of the powder strewn about the floor. Whiz! puff! A faint explosion! The whole room is a single mass of flame, and then filled with marvellous suddenness with thick, choking, and blinding smoke 1 The incendiary is sent dashing against the wall, and almost stunned with the concussion. His hair and beard are singed, and his face and hands considerably burnt. At this very instant, while his agonised brain is in a chaotic whirl, a harsh, mocking laugh is heard without. It has a Satanic sound! The awful tones fill him with fright—terror paralyses his movements, and threatens to hold him down powerless to stir hand or foot in his own behalf. "Hah! hah! hah I" from without. The half-stifled wretch shrinks in abject>larm —crouches up in a corner, and here he has a temporary release from his great physical suf- ferings, for the blinding smoke has not invaded this corner by a singular chance—the direction of draughts from door or window, or other aper- tures, probably, accounting for the natural phe- nomenon. "Hah! hah I hah î" from without, in ringing tones. The shrinking wretch shivers from head to foot. At this critical juncture a flash from the other end of the room, shows him that the bowl of spirits has caught. (To be continued. Commenced in No. 142. ) Enigmatical.—A gentlemanj on being asked what he had for dinner, replied, "A lean wife roasted, and the ruin of a man for sauce." What did his dinner consist of ?—Of course you give it up, and here's the answer—A spare rib and apple sauce. BOYS OF ENGLAND. 15 Decembeä 1« ÎSGO.J Ышъ for h> $кдашш. *»* OBIQÍNAL CONTRIBUTIONS ONLY are required, and must be accompanied &y name and addreu. Âny puzzle or charade received afta' tíiis date, and found to have been copied from other publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from the same person will be accepted. No Puzzle Kill be accepted unless the Solutions areproperlp worked out. Numbered Charades in particular must ¡tace FULL anstcers sent Uith them. 1, A conjunction, three-gevenths of a dog und an insect. 2. SkiW, a verb, and two-fifths of an iron block. 3. A sweet-smelling flower and a woman's name. 4. A small veésél and a country pcrfeon. 5. A vowel, three-sixths of a fîa£, and 'a Spanish title. 6. Three-fourths of to distribute, and three-sixths of to send. 7. Two-sixths of a public speaker, and three-eixths of a male goose. 8; Fart of the head and a circle. 9. Two-fiftha of a bog» two-fourths of a mineral salt, and three-sevenths of a low country. The initials read downwards will give the name of a West Indian Island. E, W. PeëkMUnd. II. The time is midnight Everything is hushed, except at intervals when the occasional discharge of a piece of ord- nance disturbs the death-like stillness. It is thè calm bel ore the storm, In a few minutes men epring from behind barriers where they had remained unobserved. Cannons belch forth death and destruction tk all around. Ladders ате planted against the Walls, botare instantly overturned with their human freight. Ever and anon a few brave spirits roach the ramparts, only to be hurled back at the bayonet's point. But, hush! What is. the cause of that tremendous reverberation, that dreadful illumination of earth ánd sky, those awful cries of agony, mingled with derlèivecheèrs and curses? Human beings are wen amid the fiames-atd smoke шйпдг legs and arms. The* magazine* has exploded 1 Appalled only for an instant thë Uritish renew the attack, and succeed in driving the enemy back ontíf they ffrialiy euccumb, and the fortress la won. "Wanted the name of the fortress. W. B. bÏASOK. HL I am a word of 14 letters. My 1,11, 6, 6, 9, 6, 9, 12, 5, 4, 13, 14 is a beast which frequents rivers; my 7, 5, 4, G, 14, 7,11, 8, 2 is a county •of England; my G, 5, 8, 11, 14 is the capital of a large •country; my G, 5, 3, 8, 9,12 is a well-known foreign bird; iny 10, 9, 9, 3 is in every house; my 7, 9, 2 is used in gar- dening; my 14, G, 11, 10, 2, S is a common insect; my 14, û, 11,12, 7, 2, 5,10 is a harbour on the south coast; my 14, 7,11, б is something that sails; my 1, 2, 8, 9, 11, 14, 4 is bravery ; and my whole is a heathen deity. HINDOO. IV. I consist of 18 letters. ДГу 11« 16,13,14,4 is a water fowl; my 15,1,10, 5,18, G is a small tower; my 2,17, G, 16,10, 8. is a plant; my 3, 9, 12, б is a part of a house; my 9,13. 14 is a tree; my 15. 7, 1, 2,11,17, 1G is a loud uOíéo ; my 7,18,13,10,16, 7 is what we all wish to have ; my 10,1 У, 6,14 is a bird; my 7,13, 2, 11 is a member of the body ; and my whole you will find in 4h& Boys of England. A. SUELDRICK. V. Sorrow; a lazy person; a woman's name; the name of •some provinces irt Italy ; a town in Scotland ; an imaginary spirit Ï ¿ÜQ ciititle'i to a vote; a man's name; a Ger- man river; valid; kingly; a period of time; an English rlvèr; an inland in North America. The initials and finals will give the names of two taleâ written by a wiiter to the Boys of Exgland. G. Watts. SQUARE WORDS. VI. A flower; a thought ; the French for to bind ; an English river. G. WATTS. VII. Feeble; equally; eoon; old plural of cows. G. WATTS. HIDDEN TOWNS. I. ixtm my comales and brothers in exile. 2. The turtle wc saw Weighed enormously. 3. The gaping grave sending me headlong. 4. Dô yott ^ that ad(ler by tne rivcr? G. WATTS. %* All Communications to be atfärened to the Pditor, Mr. Edwin J. IÍeett, 173, Fleet Street, E.C. t* We cannott under any circumstances, undertake to give niedieal advice in the columns of this Journal, Numerous Ic'ters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents in a Shorter time than ihree weeks. Letters must be prepaid. ** Correspondents ttïio u-itít to receive replies by post must in ad cases send stamped directed envelopes. _____ • Ai Wilson.-The Kremlin is *' the heart"' and sacred place of Moscow, once the old fask for duly advertised in the Journal. J. 0—You must forward u all the tickets/* LARGE AND IMPORTANT INCREASE IN THE SIZtí OF THE BOYS OF THE WORLD. GUEAT GIFTS »YJ2RY WEEK. The Price of the " Boys of the Would" will still bo ONE HALFPENNY, and with it will bo published every week THE STORY-TELLER, doubled in size, price Oniî Halfpenny. The two will alwayl be polished together, with Grand Gifts, One Penny. Д SPLENDID BIRTHDAY GIFT! THE SIXTH VOL. U M OP the "BOYS OF ENGLAND." Elegantly bounds Price is. PART XXXV. of the BOYS OF ENGLAND IS NOW HEADY, With a Splendid Coloured Picture of THE FLAGS OF THE BRITISH ARMY. PRICE 6d.; OK, BY POST, 7d. NOW BEADY, TITLE PAGE AND INDEX TO VOL. VI., PRICE ONE PENNY. NOTICE TO THE NEWS TRADE. Mr. Edwin J, Brett's works are published only at 173* Fleet Street, ALL BACK NUMBERS CAN BE HAD. 16 BOYS OF ENGLAND. fDECEMBER 1, 1809. ROBINSON CRUSOE, THE COMIC; OR, THE GOOD FRIDAY THAT CAME ON A SATURDAY. A Wonderful Side-splitting Narrative, founded on Fan, Fact and Fiction. CHAPTER XII.—(eonH-mted.) I nnd my followers at last got as far as the sea-beach, we found 300 more of the Hanky Pankies were try- ing to prevent our rein- forcements from landing. The guns from the ship peppered away at the suvages, but they didn't mind it. They had a way of dodging cannon balls which I never saw equal- led, and which would be a valuable trick for Eng- lish soldiers to know, if the)- could only learn it. Every boat that put out from our ship the Indians Mink by piercing it with arrows, and thus letting the water in. But my gallant men, not to be done, swam ashore (holding their weapons between their teeth), and together we pitched into the savages again, and had another desperate battle on the shingle—what we might call a shingle combat. A very lucky and extraordinary thing happened at this time. Those of our men who had swam ashore had got their pistol bárrele as full of liquid as beer barrels (only liquid of another sort), thus turning their fire-arms into water-arms. When they dis- charged them at the Indians, not only the bullets came out (as usual), but a jet of water (as an-usual), turned, of course, into steam by the heat of the explosion, came squirting forth, scattering and drenching the enemy, who, frightened at this new kind of ammunition, were dispersed in a regular panic. For a few moments we fighters had a little breath- ing time to ourselves, during which we pulled our- selves together in order to go at it again presently. Some hot work was going on near the Indian quarters—we could tell that from the continuous reports of fire-arms that were kept up, sounding like the crackers at some Guy Fawkes celebration on the fifth of November. Alas, poor Friday! now that I had leisure to think about hira, my soul was sad, and I wandered forth alone to seek his shattered corse, but, of course, I didn't find it. "All up and down the whole creation" for at least a mile and a half, " sadly I roamed," but all in vain; so playing an accompaniment on my re- volver, I vented my feelings in this incomparably touching melody—" HIS BROAD GRIN HAUNTS ME STILL. Am—Her bright smile, ifc. 'Tis hours since last we met. But I ne'er shall see again That " mug" as Ыаск as jet, Nor hear that banjo's strain; Yec methinks I hear him eneeze (As he did when he was ill), His ghost I plainly sees, His broad grin haunts me still. He was such a chap to fight, Though the foe were twenty deep, And he always served me right, Though he cost a lot to keep. The way he rolled his eyes Was enough my nerves to thrill; And—it really w no lies— His broad grin haunts me still. Though I roam o'er every track, Yet memory won't get rid Of that interesting black, And the comio things he did. But, alas ! they cooked his goose When they knocked him down that hill; And though pining is no use, His broad grin haunts me still. CHAPT.ER XIII. A CAMP MEETING. The echo of the last line (which was in Sims Reeves's best style, slightly improved) had scarcely formed itself into an "encore," when I spied a figure dodging about among the trees. It was Will Atkins. He was evidently trying to find a good place to hide in, so I thought I would help him by giving him a good hiding myself. "Stand and deliver I" I exclaimed, almost jump- ing down his throat in the impetuosity of my attack. His only reply was to say nothing. He took to his heels; so, to be even with him, I took to my toes, i.e. endeavoured to administer a few gentle kicks. At last I overtook him; and finding himself obliged to fight, he turned and faced me. "Now, then," I said, "I mean to settle all our differences by settling you. Take that." "Crusoe!" he exclaimed, in ferocious accents, warding off my blow, " as you're a rival, your arrival on the island was gall and grimwood—I mean, gall and wormwood—to me. Now I'm at bay, I'm a desperate man. Take that." "Miscreant !" I cried, coming down heavy on his rascally nob. "Anna Maria shall never be yours." "Nor yours," he replied, firing into my mouth. [N.B. I swallowed the bullet, though, perhaps, the readers can scarcely swallow that. There never was such a combat as we had then.] Though there were only two of us, we fought fiercely enough for a thousand. Fire flashed from our eyes and our clashing blades. We discharged our pistols with such force, that they were twenty times louder than ordinary. We both got knocked down, till we nearly got knocked up. Without actually dying ourselves, we kept dyeing the ground with our blood, and each was soon so riddled with shot that it was a great riddle how we kept alive so long. Both were equally resolved not to give in, especially myself. 'THERE WERE OKLV TWO OF US; WE FOUGHT EXOUGH FOR Л THOUSAND. This might have kept on for ever, only that it ended rather sooner. Having succeeded by stirring up Atkins with the point of my cutlass, in putting him into such a fury that he was quite off his guard, I let him rush at me with the idea of slicing my head off, then by a single stroke I knocked his knife out of his hand and his remaining pistol out of his belt, maimed both of his legs, and wounded him severely in the shoulder. He was soon down on his hands, and certainly down on his luck as well. He rolled over with a loud cry of pain—something like the bellow of an antelope. "You are in my power," I cried, standing on his stomach, and flourishing my sword, "yield I" "I won't!" "Then surrender." "I shan't." "Then, give in." But he declined even to do this, until I began dancing on him, and then the pain, combined with his wounds, proved too much for him, and he cried, "Hold hard 11 give in 1" "And yield up to me every chance of possessing Anna Maria, living or dead?' I stipulated. "Yes; hang you 1" he cried, in a hissing groan. "That's all right. But first you must tell me where she is 1" "I don't know, and I'm doubly scarified if I care," groaned the prostrate buccaneer. "I'm regularly boxed up. Can't you let a fellow alone when he's down?" "I can," was my benevolent reply, as I jumped off him with a force that nearly shook all his breath away. "Will Atkins," I continued, impressively, "it strikes me I've let you have it rather considerable. You're wounded all over, lamed for life, and not able to move. But I did it flor your own good. Some men take advantage of their enemies' defeat by killing them, but I am merciful. So I'll just leave you here to die at your own convenience. Take your time over it, I don't want to hurry you. Only at your last gasp think gratefully of your truest friend, Robinson Crusoe." And as I sneaked off, much affected by the pain- ful scene, I wiped away a tear. • • • • • Loud shouts and cries rang in the Indian village: smoke came in volumes (like the Boys of Eis'gland when bound) from each wigwam; guns were fired every minute; in short, what our American friends would call "considerable tall fighting" was going on. Our gallant fellows had stormed the dwellings of the Hanky Pankies, most of whom had already been made to flee with a flea in their ear. The admiral led the attack as bravely as six Wellingtons and half-a-dozen Nelsons rolled into one. My own men, too, having succeeded in dispersing the pirates, had by this time come up, and I rushing forward, was soon in the thick of the fight. The Indians seeing this, gathered together all their strength, and charged at us like a herd of buffaloes. They knew they were on their "last legs," those who had any legs left at all. Our fellows had made prizes of all that was valuable in the wigwams, for in war, people always take their prizes, instead of, like our subscribers, waiting till the prizes are sent to them. In the heat of that conflict I forgot everything and everybody; we were all resolved not to stop "pegging away" until every Indian had been most tremendously thrashed. In half-an-hour more this glorious result had been achieved. Those of our foes who were not slain, were either writhing on the plain in awful agonies of pain, or scouring off with might and main, with shots pursuing them like rain, they wouldn't try to fight again. All would have been victorious, happy and glorious, but for the anguish on the part of myself and Admiral Bloater for the loss of Friday and Anna Maria, which we had now time to think about. Involuntarily we both set up a chorus of— "Anna Maria! Anna Maria! Where, oh! where are you? In the fire, like Sophia, Come to me, oh I do." Alas! I fear ed that my flame, Anna Maria, had been swallowed in the other flames of the burning village, for by this time nearly all the wigwams were reduced to ashes, while the Indians themselves hand gone to blazes, all except a few who had so much martial fire in them- that they wouldn't be extinguished. The only habitation unbttrnt was the wiggest big- wam—I mean biggest wigwam—of the fierce chief Hykifooslem, which was a long way off from the rest. We were just going to storm this, when—oh! amazement and joy—we beheld the savage king himself rush up to the place with Friday—yes, Friday, alive and Icicking (with both feet), pelting after him. Hykifooslem tried to bolt in and bolt Friday out of the tent, but this m-tent Friday prevented by following him. Three minutes elapsed, during which there was an awful amount of shrieking, swearing, and struggling going on inside, and then, bursting forth with a force that shivered the wigwam all to pieces, out came Friday, triumphantly holding aloft in one hand the insensible forms of Anna Maria and the Princess Frizzawigga, and in the other the still more insensible form of King Hykifooslem. We gave three cheers, and then, with a loud shout of joy, Friday bounded towards us with his heavy burden, and the whole four of them plunged into my welcome arms. It knocked me down; but I didn't mind that, I was so glad. "My own !—my own che-yild !" cried the admiral, embracing Anna Maria. "Ditto, ditto 1" I added, acting in a similar manner. "How, in the name of Mumbo Jumbo, did you come for to go for to escape, Friday ?" asked every- body. That now exhausted darkey scratched his wool —showing that his wits had a little "gone a wool- gathering "—and, squatting down on the corpus of the savage chief, he spun this surprising yarn :— (To be continued. Commenced in No. 147.) Printed by Kelly and Co., Steam Machine, baw and General Printers, 15, Gate Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, and published for the Proprietor, Edwik J. Brktt, by A. W. HUCKETT, at the Office, 173, Fleet Street, B.C. December 1, 1860. 18 fDECEMBER X, Ш59. BOYS OF ENGLAND. crossing- the stream, and towards this he deter- mined to make his way. The presence of inhabitants on the island was a discovery of sufficient importance to require reflection. Ned knew well that different tribes along that coast bore very different characters; some were savage and brutal to the last degree, delighting | in torture arid rapine, while others were kindly and, hospitable. In the former case all he had to do was to hide himself until his escape could be effected; in the latter, the natives might be induced to assist him. While thus -communing with, himself, Ned was tbe most wretched-looking being Nçd had, ever seen, naked save a pair of drawers, his teeth chatter- ing, took a survey of the morass. It was nearly low water. In the day-light this made the place doubly horrible, as all about in the mud and reeds could be seen the hideous monsters. * "Though they are often speedy, and on occasions can bo lashedto a furious pitch otexcitement, bellowing with fury and whirling round until they churn tho water into a white foam with their movements, these reptiles aro usually very Bluggiah and indolent, and will remain many tours without moving in the least.*'—Wood. December i, 18СЭ. l 19 BOYS OF ENGLAND. Some lay like logs, with their terrible snouts in the air. Fear of the savages, however, overcame every other consideration. Looking back for the stoutest trees, for the roots which were highest out of water, the un- happy being, victim to his own bad passions, leaped from tree to tree, and root to root, with the dexterity of an Alpine climber. In so doing he came near to where Ned was concealed. Touched by compassion, the generous youth was about to invite him on to his island, when a loud and taunting cry announced that the savages had out-witted him and were in full pursuit. Samuel Petworth nearly fell headlong into the water. He stood bewildered, and as if lost. Ned had been studying the geography of the place with a view to his own escape. He could see one dry causeway towards the land. Samuel Petworth," he said. The other stood shivering and trembling with excessive fear. He, however, made no answer. *; 'Tis I, Ned Summers, who speaks." "Oh, Ned 1" "There is no time for words. Just by the fallen tree to your left is a path. Keep to high ground and you are safe. Make haste." Samuel needed not twice telling. He was in that awful state of mind that he was quite prepared to believe in the super- natural. His terror was only augmented. Obeying, however, the advice given him, he followed the path at a rapid rate, and disap- peared. The Indians, in a body, followed, and then Ned thought it was time for him to take care of himself. Lowering himself slowly from the tree, he made no delay. His path was already chosen. He meant to follow directly in the track of the savages. This was easily done, and at the end of twenty minutes he too had emerged from Alligator Morass, sincerely desirous of never seeing its hideous purlieus again, under any circum- stances. There remained the consideration as to what he was to do. Wandering about the woods without an object, while the howling savages were about, was not a wise proceeding. Still, in this dangerous position of his, the question of food and drink always arose. He could not do without it. CHAPTER VI. NED MAKES A DISCOVERY. After going through a considerable amount of mental calculation, and several times almost despairing of a wise decision, Ned Summers determined on seeking the most dense thicket on the borders of the fresh-water stream, and there abiding until the savages took their depa: ture. ° r , Havinñ no tents, no women, and no children, spot C0Uld certainly not abide in that Particular His selection of the stream was because of the imperative necessity for water. ^ Treading with extreme care, scarcely ventur- ing to put his feet to the ground, avoiding above all to touch small dry sticks, which would be sure to betray his presence, Ned also listened with all his ears. Every now and then he believed he heard a kind of view halloo. The fugitive was leading them a terrible dance. Still there would be very little hope for him, and much as Ned regretted it, under the circum- stances he had to think of himself. Samuel deserved no sympathy. With this idea he rapidly crossed the kind of wooded meadow he had fallen upon, and taking an oblique direction from the pursuers and the pursued, reached the river. It was here bordered with trees on both sides,! leaving ample room for him to walk. Being neither muddy nor slimy there were no alligators. The fish were, as usual, abundant. This, however, was of no moment now. A secure and comfortable hiding-place was what he required. Still he advanced slowly and guardedly. The river grew narrower, the trees taller, arch- ing overhead, and the way more difficult. Presently he had to crawl under the creeping plants, and thus reached a snug and pleasant little bay, formed by the winding of the river. His eyes then lit up with sudden animation and delight. A small fleet of canoes lay moored, that is, drawn up on a small sandy beach. They were unguarded, and the paddles were all leaning against a tree. Ned took careful stock of the whole scene, and, making sure that no one was visible, examined the boats. They contained fishing spears, nets, and some rude hooks and lines. Ned's heart bounded with delight. He was in a savage country. His hand was against every man, and every man's hand was against him. Securing the best looking of the canoes, he ap- propriated a due supply of nets, a spear, some hooks and lines, and taking a paddle from the heap, he then put out. His course was up the river. He was well aware that he would be looked for below, and in consequence was determined to outwit the enemy. The river was still thoroughly navigable, and he easily impelled along his boat. Joe Blake had taught him the peculiar way of urging forward a canoe. It is easy enough after one lesson. Ned moved along slowly and methodically, looking to the right and the left. At last he saw a kind of small stream, falling into the larger one, and at once determined to follow it up. It was sluggish and completely covered, roofed in by vegetation. It was narrow too, and partially overgrown by reeds. Ned urged his canoe up its course, and the current being slow, easily made his way to a small open pool of clear water, where he deter- mined to rest. The discomfited Indians, on discovering the loss of their canoe, would probably go down stream in chase. It was a problematical question if they re- turned at all. All he had to do was to keep still. To his delight, the boat contained some bait, which he immediately put on his hook. He then lowered it into the pond. It literally swarmed with fish, and Ned took as many as he required. When he had filled the bows of his boat, he could not help chuckling. What was the use of raw fish? Fire was a luxury he dared not indulge in at present. Raw fish was out of the question. And yet Ned well knew how many had been compelled to live on them for an indefinite time. He consoled himself with a deep drink of water, drew his boat under a tree, the boughs of a tree that trailed its long boughs in the water, and waited. Not for long. A loud, wailing cry apprised him that the loss of the boat was discovered. It also made him aware that the water-camp of the Indians was close at hand. The river, winding in every direction, had deceived him. Then came a loud jabbering, quarrelling in a variety of shrill voices, and then the whole died away. They were in pursuit. Ned remained still until all signs of the savages had ceased, and then again came forth: he had resolved to cross the pond, and recon- noitre. I will be your slave," said Ned, drily ; "if It was quite certain the Indians had gone the other way. The pool was narrow enough, and Ned was soon on the other side, were, secreting his canoe as best he might, he trod the shore. His intention was to strike for the bay whence the Indians had taken their boats, and see if they had made a final departure. The camp was soon reached, and surveyed. It appeared wholly empty. Every boat was gone, every living creature had fled I Ned stepped into the open space, and at once saw that he was mistaken. Bound hand and foot, a martyr to the insects and flies which haunt these waters, lay Samuel Petworth on the ground. He had again been captured, and was to be made a victim to the savages. Ned drew his knife and approached him. The wretch opened his eyes. Never had Ned seen such a change in any human being. Firmly believing that his fellow midshipman was about to take a dastardly revenge, Petworth gasped some words for mercy. Ned smiled contemptuously. "I came to save you,1' he said; *' at all events to give you a chance of safety.1' And he cut his cord. Then he turned away. "Take me with you. muttered Samuel. "I cannot carry you," you can follow, do so." And, giving him a drink of water, he turned away, and again disappeared in the forest. He would have shown more generosity, but it appeared to him that to take his would-be murderer with him would be to ensure the , capture of both, ! While he was wholly free he might still be I able to assist Samuel Petworth, but if both were taken they must perish. Samuel followed him with his eyes with such a malicious scowl, that, had he seen it, he must have felt very uneasy. As it was, he walked away, hoping that his messmate, with all his faults, would escape from the Indians, and making up his mind to aid him if possible. He returned to the pool, concealed all sign of his boat having touched the shore, and pushed off. Once more he drew the canoe under the deep shadow of the tree, and waited the course of events. Not for very long. Towards dark he plainly heard steps on the opposite shore. He sat upright in his boat, with his gun upon his knees. He never moved—scarcely breathed. Presently he ventured to move a bough, and to look across the water. At first he saw nothing, and fancied it must have been the sound of some animal moving. Again steps were heard. Keenly scrutinising the whole shore, he saw the countenance of Samuel Petworth fixed upon his hiding-place with a cold and sarcastic ex- pression of countenance. He was about to speak, when the other smiled a perfect demoniacal smile, and, shaking his fist at the place where his old messmate was hid, retreated towards the water-camp. Samuel Petworth had discovered his hiding- place, and was about to curry favour with the savages by betraying him. CHAPTER VIL DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. It was quite clear to Ned Summers that his treacherous comrade, Samuel Petworth, whose grovelling nature could neither understand nor bear to recognise his more generous and high- minded character, was about to curry favour with the copper-coloured Indians by betraying him into their hands. There was no time to lose. He was determined, on no account, to part with his capture, the many uses of which he had already pictured to himself. 22 [December 1,1865. BOYS OF ENGLAND. IT'S AN ILL WIND THAT GOOD. BLOWS NOBODY *Tis a very bad wind, as in proverbs we find, The wind that blows nobody good; I have read in books, yet sure the young rooks Would deny it to-day if they coaid. They sure would deny, but they cannot well try, Their cawing not yet have they learn'd; And 'tis just as well not, for I fancy I've got How the wind to some use may be turn'd. Do you see Martha Hunt, how she bears all the brunt Of the, chilly damp, blustering day? How gladly she picks all the littering sticks! Her kettle will soon boil away. How snug sho will sit by the fire-placo and knit, While Daniel her fortune will praise. The wind roars away. "Master Wind," they will eay, "Wc thank you for this pretty blaze." Then, spite of the rooks, what we ¡road in the books Is true, and the storm has done good. It seems hard, I own, when the rests are overthrown, But Daniel and Hartha get wood. NORMAN К EN RI CK: OR, MIDDIES AFLOAT. By the Author of "Allan Lynpocii,""«*The Young Settler," &c, &c. CHAPTER ^flll.—{continued^. j^ftOW long will it be ere we reach the camp?" Juana murmured faintly, resting her head on my shoulder as we halted a moment on one of the prairie swells. "Sec, love, sec the sun is mounting, and half-an-hour will our friends and safety!" I cried, tako us to almost distracted at this new grief. "What noise is that I hear, Norman?" she said, languidly. "Fool that I am Î Where have my brains been all this time?" I exclaimed, petulantly, as I recollected that I still had a quantity of brandy and water in my flask. "Here, dear Juana, drink this and you will be able to support the fatigue you must endure for a short time longer," I added, placing the flask in her trembling hand. "Water! Oh, thank you, thank you," she cried, with evident pleasure. "Drink, love, drink ; it will give you strength. Pray drink it, for we have not a moment to lose." After an instant's hesitation, as she discovered the potency of the liquor, Juana complied with my earnest entreaty and took a copious draught, stimulated to the feat as much by the increas- ing sound of galloping horses as by my impor- tunities. *' Oh, thank you, Norman; I feel it will do me good. Are those the Indians I hear?" she asked, returning the flaak, and gathering up her reins. "They are, indeed; but if you can ride another hour, we are safe." "Yes, yes. Oh, let us go." Putting down Neptune, to case the marc from his unnecessary weight, I gave the word, and the two animals again started off together. One hasty glance behind showed me the first of our enemies just cresting a swelling ridge some half-a-mile in our rear. From this time it was a race for life or death. Onward, still onward, our labouring horses tore, while, less than a bow shot in our wake, pressed forward the pertinacious foe. For a length of time neither of us had spoken a word, and I could see, by the quivering lips and by the ashy hue of her face, that Juana's strength was nearly exhausted. '* When, oh my God 1 shall wc strike the lake?" I exclaimed, involuntarily, in the very agony of fear, for Juana was almost reeling from exhaustion in her saddle. "Do not leave me, Norman! oh, do not leave me !" she cried, piteously, as I lashed the mare's flanks with the end of the lasso, and forced her up a hill in front. "Fear not, love," I shouted back, as the bay reached the top of the hill. "Saved! saved!" I exclaimed, waving тУ handkerchief wildly in the air, and halting till the chesnut gained my side. "See, darling, there is the lake at last, and yonder the camp of my friends," I added, breathlessly, as I pointed out the white marquee, and Cato's tent on the margin of the water. The glad sight gave a new strength to my poor Juana, as she galloped her horse boldly down the hill. Exerting all my force, I shouted at the top of my voice to apprise my messmates of my coming; the distance, however, was too great for them to hear me. We had reached the plain, and every stride of our weary steeds was now a matter of fearful import, as the Indians were already descending the hill, and I could hear the singing of their spears as the weapons fell short of their aim be- hind us. I made another desperate essay of my voice, shouting out the name of Meredith, and, drawing one of my revolvers, fired several shots in the air. This double effort succeeded. A form I instantly recognised as that of David's darted from the tent into the marquee, and then I knew T was heard. 1 Тксл1ех£ few minutes passed like a dream. -The Indians were close upon us,, their horses sounded; at,my very backhand I had to lash both the bay und chesnut to carry us behind that row of cheering friends, who rushed out to our rescue. "Fire! for Heaven's sake, fire!" I shouted, as I turned the flank of their extended line. The sudden report of a volley of musketry greeted my ears, as, the next moment, I sprang to the ground, and caught the insensible form of Juana in my arms. CHAPTER XIX. THE KETURN. The cheer with which my messmates were on the point of greeting my return as, a few minutes later, they rushed into the marquee, was checked by astonishment and admiration as they gazed on the beauty in my arms. "A lady, by Jove ! and fainting. Give her to me, Norman," cried the doctor, running forward, and taking the exhausted and inanimate form from me. "Leave her to me, Kenrick, and look after those poor steaming horses at the door," Twcedie continued, as he laid Juana gently on one of the mattresses in the shadow of the marquee. Leaving the doctor and Davy to restore my Juana to life, I hastened outside, surrounded by all the rest, who now began to use their tongues with a volubility that almost deafened me. "Oh, Norman, you should have seen those Indians cutting away. My eyes! wasn't it a sight 1" exclaimed Phil. "The Indians I True, where are they? what have you done with them?" I asked, looking about. "Wc made short work of them, I assure you," replied Meredith; "the tawny rascals meant mischief, as poor Ned, here, found to his cost." As he spoke he pointed to Crowther, whose arm was bandaged and in a sling. "You arc not hurt much I hope, Tom?" I cried, anxiously noting the youth's pale face. "No, no, Norman, it's nothing worth speaking about, it was only a scratch with one of their confounded javelins ; but the doctor has spliced it all up comfortably. But, I wish you could have seen them cutting away." And Crowther burst into a laugh, in spite of the smarting of his wound. "Dis chile sec much fun, Massa Kenrig, in him time; but, golly! golly I nebber larf so much afore, sar, nebber, sar, nebber," said Cato, "What made it so ridiculous?" I asked Frank. "Why, you see, our sudden volley meeting them full in the teeth, had a considerable effect on their number, but, being only buck shot, it was, of course, far less fatal than if the pieces had been charged with conical bullets." "Did they turn and fly, then?" "Not a bit of it, half the horses were rider- less in a moment, the Indians rolling and icking like so many wounded ducks on the grass." "Did you try to capture any of them?' "No, they were too quick for us; for, the instant they saw what we meant, by George, they were up and off like lightning." "And the fun of it was," cried Phil, "that those who were unable to mount the others flung over their horses like so many bags of flour." "And, before you could say'Jack Robinson,' the dingy devils were gone." "Taking their wounded with them?" "Yes, bearing off their wounded." "How was it then that you got hurt ?" I asked Crowther, who had been speaking. "Why," cried Frank, answering, "the foolish young rascal must needs run after them, calling them anything but gentlemen, putting himself in a pugilistic attitude, and offering to fight one or all of them." Well?" I said, laughing at Meredith's de- scription. "Well, one of the Indians suddenly turned in the saddle and launched a spear at the young tormentor." "Which, if I hadn't been uncommonly sharp, and jumped out of the way, would have gone through me. The spear, by good luck, only grazed my arm. however, but I shall keep it as a trophy of my victory." "I say, Norman, the young lady has recovered, and is asking for you," cried the doctor, as he joined our party. "Who is she, Norman? and where on earth did you find her?" inquired inquisitive Phil. Never mind where he found her," inter- rupted Wilson. "My eye! ain't she a pretty girl!" How do you know?" demanded Crowther, turning to his messmate. "Oh, I had a squint at her when Norman gave her up to the doctor." "Who is she, Norman?" Frank asked me, as we turned back towards the marquee. "Juana Maitland." "Good Heavens! here in the pampas, and alone! What romance is this?" "It is indeed a romance, and one I am unable to explain, for we have been, ever since I found her, running for our lives." And a close shave you had to save them I can tell you, for I really thought you would have been speared before we could get between you and the Indians, their javelins fell so fast and near you both," added Brandon. "Thank Heaven, for her sake, that danger's past," I replied, fervently ; "but come in, I want to introduce you to her at once," I continued, as they were about to draw off and leave me to enter the marquee alone. "Mr. Dixon, doctor, gentlemen, all of you, this lady must be our guest till we reach Buenos Ayres. As soon as she is refreshed, Miss Mait- land will, no doubt, tell us the seeming marvel of her presence in South America." "The daughter of Captain Maitland, of the Briton Г " exclaimed the third mate as the canvas folds fell behind us. "The same, gentlemen," I replied, as Juana hastened up to my side. The ceremony of introduction was soon com- pleted, and Cato and Davy entering at the same time, to spread the table for breakfast, which had been delayed by my unexpected return, all revelations were deferred till afterwards. If Juana's appetite was anything like mine, she must have enjoyed that breakfast as one of the most delicious meals she ever4 partook of. The guacho, who had been out since sunrise, had returned, loaded with game, just in time to allow Cato to place on the board several dishes of roasted eggs, broiled goose, swan, and prairie hen, in addition to the joints of cold roast and boiled beef of the yesterday's dinner. "I am sorry, senors, I did not return in time to lasso one of my black friends, the Indians, I hear of ; but what matter, another time will do as well," continued the Don, as, after a courteous salutation to the strange Donna, he took his scat December i, 18G9.J 23 BOYS OF ENGLAND. at the tabic. "I was in time, still, to attend to that superb chesnut and the bay mare, who, but for me, would have died. She—what you call it—was so tivnble down—no, no, knock up/' When the breakfast was at last disposed of, I told the company, as briefly as possible, the real object that had led me to desert them, and of my encounter with the white steed, and the capture of the bay mare, when I thought I had secured the horse. Of all my hearers, the'guacho was the most interested, especially when I told how Neptune had led me to the Indian village and my escape with J uana. At all this he clapped his hands with ecstacy; but, when I told of Juana's crossing the bridge, he sprang to bis feet, and gazed on us as if we had been ghosts. To have crossed that bridge on horseback was a feat that even a guacho's daring would have shrunk from. As soon as I had made an end of my short narrative, Juana, at my request, proceeded to give us an account of her own adventures from the time we left her.in the Madras Eoads. "All, and more than I could have expected. In this really delightful family we spent nearly three weeks of unclouded happiness.'* "And your return?" "Ah, the parting from my kind aunt was indeed a sad one; and Mr. Gascoigne, that our return should be safe and comfortable, resolved to accompany us back with a guard of his mounted hunters, or guachos. "Then your uncle must have feared these prowling Indians?" "Perhaps so, though he said nothing that I heard. "I suppose he feared to alarm you." "Having escorted us to within six hours of our destination, and pointed out the distant city to our view, we took an affectionate leavo of Mr. Gascoigne; and while- our party rested during the mid-day heat, my uncleandhis guachos were galloping back to the house. "After about two hour's test, our party began their journey homewards, "We had scarcely been five minutes in our saddles, however, when loud, discordant shrieks broke on our ears, accompanied by the tramp of Omitting all extraneous matter,, her narrative ! horses, and the next moment,, before I could ran, as nearly as possible, as>follows- "On reaching Gibraltar we. found, to the infinite delight o£ any father, the barque * Trident,' owned and commanded by his brother, Captain Bobert Maitlimd, bound to La Plata and Buenos Ay res." "The « Trident !''' ехсЫте&Жхоп. "Why,., she was in harbour when, we left-the city tlie ¡ realise what was taking place, I was dragged from my saddle and rudely thrown across another horse in front of some Indian who had seized me. "When I was able to understand my ^position, I raised my head and looked back; that one, glance nearly drove me mad. "In**the- distance I could see our cowardly other day." - !guides 'flying towards the- city , in the -wildest "Yes, I know;,~I hope so," added Juana, /terror, while- Martha and two of Jthe crew, who quickly; "but to proceed. Myr uncle proposed had accompanied us, were binding up the on reaching the city to pay a visit to his dear wounds of my dear uncle, as he lay, to my sister Mary, married to a wealthy English fancy, dying on the grass, emigrant, who cultivated a large farm on the "Some rude gesture and angry imprecation of pampas, some three days' journey from Buenos the Indian, before whom I was riding, with the Ayres. "My father, who was also particularly fond of this sister, was most anxious for my mother to go with my uncle and see her in her new home; but this my mother positively refused to do, when I, seeing how anxious both my father and uncle were on the point, offered to go in her place. "This arrangement was at once acceded to, and I and our maid, Martha, took our berths aboard the 'Trident,' and two days afterwards both vessels left the rock together, but with their prows pointing north and south." "Did your uncle fix any particular time for your return to England?" I asked, as Juana paused. "No; but as soon as he could discharge one cargo and ship another, which he was told was waiting his arrival, we should be on our way back." "And your run from Gibraltar here?" I asked. malignant expression of Iiis face, so terrified me, that I must have fainted, for when I recovered it was night, and I was lying on some skins by a watch fire." "Surrounded by those vjllanous Indians?" I asked, with a feeling of passionate hatred. "No, the men were apart, and grouped in savage grandeur round a second fire, each man's horse fastened to the rider's spear, stuck barb downward in the ground." "And you, Juana?" "Was watched by a group of repulsive-looking women, the wives, no doubt, of the men before me. The women, however, terrified me even more than the Indians, they scowled on me with such revengeful looks. "How long were you kept in this state?" "For some hours, I should think, or till the moon had risen, when, at a sign from their chief —the savage who had captured me—the men were on their horses in a minute." And the women, señora?" asked the guacho, "Oh, it was delightful," cried Juana, in with great interest, ecstacy at the very remembrance. "The voyage "They sprang up like so many monkeys behind was remarkably quick and truly charming." , the men, and, while I stood wondering at their "I should have thought without your mother agility, the hateful chief bent over his horse's f4ÍÍ5fe would have hung heavy." shoulder, and, grasping me round the waist, "'_no* тУ uncle is so full of anecdote placed me again in front of him, when the whole and information, that he filled up every minute with amusing or interesting conversation." "That was fortunate indeed." "It made the distance seem so short, that I was almost sorry when we entered that magni- ficent river." _ "And yet it is a lovely and imposing sight." "About a week after our arrival, my uncle had so far discharged his cargo, that entrusting the rest of the duty to his first mate, we set off about a month ago on our visit to my Aunt Mary." "A month ago Iм I exclaimed, in some surprise and indeed alarm. "Yes ; about that time, properly attended by guides and servants we started for the residence of my aunt's husband, which we reached with case and safety about noon on the third day." "And did the place recompence you for the toil of reaching it?" "Oh, yes. Mr. Gascoigne has built his house in a gorge at the base of some low hills, and with the luxuriance of the fruits and flowers around, made the place a perfect paradise." "And your reception, Juana, were they glad to see you?" band rushed forward like the wind, "How long did this flight last!" "For hours, till we finally reached the village where you found me," Juana replied, in answer to my question. But how came you to know that the chief meant to make you his wife?" "From the conversation of the women who formed my guard, as they mumbled to each other in a kind of broken Spanish." "And Neptune; how came" "Oh! poor Neptune," Juana continued, "he burst his way into the lodge and nearly smothered me with his caresses, and, while he was eating the food the woman had just brought me, and for which I had no appetite, I wrote and secured the few lines that brought you to my deliverance. "The men had just returned with the dead body of their chief, killed, as the women said, by the white man's thunder and lightning. "This fact, with the presence of Neptune, filled me with hope, for I was sure that you or some friend was at hand; though the fact of your being in South America was as great a mystery to me as my presence must have been to you." "But how was it they allowed Neptune to escape?" "The women had left me for a few minutes, and, during their absence, he burst open the door and entered, and I had only just fastened the string round his neck when they returned, frightened at seeing the open lodge. "With astonishing sagacity Neptune began to growl in so savage a manner that the women shrunk back, and the dog sprang through the open door and vanished. "The hours that succeeded till your arrival and brave rescue of me, were passed in unutterable suspense and anxiety ; but you came at last, and I was raised from despair to life. The rest you know." This recital of Juana's was listened to with profound attention by all, and my messmates were eager in their sympathy and offers of de- votion. • A small tent, with the best bed we could make up, was quickly erected and furnished for Juana's use, every one lending a willing hand to make it comfortable. Acting on the advice of Don Saltero, who expected another attack from the Indians in , greater numbers, either to recover their captive, or revenge their losses, we decided to change our quarters,, and retrace our steps to the city. Acting on this fear, we mounted a double guard that night, and the. guacho kept watch till morning some distance from the encampment. After an early breakfast,, the tents were struck, and our effects being packed up, by nine o'clock we had advanced some miles from our camping ground by the lake. After two long and fatiguing marches, and two nights of necessary rest, we arrived within two miles of the city by noon on the third day. "What is this? A troop of soldiers, by Jove 1" cried Meredith, riding up to where Juana, the doctor, I, and Dixon were trotting quietly on. "See, Norman, that is my uncle, my dear uncle, alive, and Martha with him 1" exclaimed Juana, pointing to a civilian and a female among the approaching cavalry escort. A minute later the delighted uncle and niece had met, when Juana, in a few brief words, ex- plained the manner of her escape. "I should have been on your trail before, but it was no use starting without soldiers, and these officials are so confounded slow to move. But thank God you aro safe, and we may return re- joicing," replied the captain* Then, turning to us he added, "Ah, gentlemen, I'll take another opportunity to thank you; my old friend, Captain Martin, told me you were out on the pampas, and that if I met you, I was to get as many- volunteers as cared to risk their lives to save that of a poor girl." "He well knew there would have been no cravens for such a duty, sir," replied the doctor, speaking for all, "That's just what he said. What. is up now? Where are the soldiers scampering off to?" "The Indians, by Jove !" cried Meredith, as a large body of tawny savages were seen on the crest of a distant swell. "We were only just in time." «* Pshaw !" exclaimed the guacho, "those heavy dragoons might as well attempt to catch a flock of birds as a tribe of mounted Indians. See!" As he spoke the redskins spread in all direc- tions, and vanished in the distance. CHAPTER XX. HOME AND HAPPINESS. The " Trident's" cargo was all on board, and she only waited the perfect recovery of her com- mander to put to sea. As Captain Maitland's health, however—for he had been very seriously wounded by the Indians— would detain him on shore for two or three weeks longer, Juana took up her residence at her uncle's hotel. During this time all hands were busily em- ployed on board the "Briton," taking in cargo, and getting her ready for sailing. 24 BOYS OF ENGLAND. * IT WAS A BACK VU К Lili. Olw ía'.ATÍÍ Л*- í-^ív Immer« ami m*w rame îa v»ay sîm\ !y, ib sa-ííívá ry ^•¡ií^tî"" oí lha UVu f* Н.о;И starting fur home t,«ajeîbteia Ai beat the üoebad-ehieal 4 И;t-u Mabbaai fb for tlufy» and tin' day was îixr-4 f.т the "Tndoaf y' deyarítin'a Unit îsitfîtt tUre« 1hon*m«i ЫЛ«\> w<*r.- broupd U> Ub' î'roai tIi4,-, fij.pcr ¡a*oviaea>a :tT'иI \w a-aa- j»M«"i ««иг hiding sa oxyedb iiHi-! y, t bu:. Га|<1но* Abit! oa wa-- aaabhA ю b\ t.;, ..-л a d,e* < a ла' b Waat» the hohl liad Ih-ïts iah A up f.»♦« th«- Ьга liny, aed the haya st'p'ws apfbbA о,- yaaa- iba the hbh s» ihr hat*'îH"S w <■)"<• Аи baa,A duwe, aad îlfO ÎH'Xt ttfú day a WiT«,* ;/ívvh 1м 1НХ»;Ц 1 'uto, ?ho former ;e'uaa,f a,- Aoea '. a «aaoA aad ! ía< iatlrr as t;,,oU |'.,r b"baa;;( ale i" 'íü- ivyia>be ООДА, WíUí.T ítíííl pl'í.ví^I'. »:'=,-. At haiy'ih tin4 «h-aV- w»'í''" wu^hod »biwii, and ii•';!»'/ nimti' taly íítt*i Aoeebaipa we юеаА •* НгАш? ' into fin- avea лАаа ha;*-aa-A>-a after ! ae "TrabadA Hcr>" b'il'i Ь' b s\vî,!i'/ :it a A b "a 1 bt «'%«'Jjiî*p*. w!jc:îi, ;tî îba ttaa e.f Hi,- laaa wilb a aaeAaaiy bréela we blood out ha iba -South Ai lanl ил S i\>'uv was f h" '* b> 'f"it" j¿< I f"? lU 1пЛе\Л," t SíUÍ. < Iltl'îïl Д' ï A' I Í ! IЯ' b:>i;í VV!>Se!s bsV in the ^í¡va»i, »1 uaná mai. î M:mihn«r ni; -ли- »ч- b|MV|eVO |>'м>|»,ч, fïH' !н.М1Гл {H, to UH, Ш.'л! LaAavat iay eonvajyai Ьаа Л? К ,,eA,' h -abfO Ahl^d i |а ff r.V.-íi". аа í ras'.íimííjt down tbf- íti" »{<• !a Piala jíuíhvjU»' ío ;j;uííwiîb.-, i-nfcK'd tía; 1к,уа41'. :-s AíIatiUí-» Лн nvjú i",mv ofi, Üa- í/ли sbij*4 paíivij f.iai- рапу, aîwl, though in f.fic naaaiiti;.' i\ц> "Trídí'ití" wa.4 ír<*ш ÍÍH' i'iia^Ma*;aî, and lin; iwv. а:н*!ам!> wcîrtî »aaiblca, to ох.'Ьгш'Г'1 fart-Wí**: ;-ái:аЬу п<н:п w* i*-^ a!1 >:<:jit t,í Sht. Ь"1 J -Ь" la-xt >ra< а <^ ri./îa 'л*^*;!.^. sv ia?- <'í*fuííen -.I ли iira<'lí raaab wi-aílna t haï *м;г vîfVH;/.* n'as jn-fííoü^ríl I/,- ;«a, Uín^u.'ti b'ü-rtia агИ и*!*'.'ai U"U<. b'iaallí .aitc-vù L'a» fá^-kw î"<u') î "pa " Tiv^.'ia ha-au' î,^f./;'<; lia ЯИ'Л whb imîi hvv ra;c> а(т,аа ;/„ Л ít í :i* ?\ччи11п<1 a IVw }\<л\ г я at heme, ¡h'liglsta íe;r шу «¡< ar maad he-, leniesí a loíaiae-;- !boa a.vbbsod йоч>а bino aed wîiïtda lî'înb t-> say, b*' аиае ihaa <|'-ча\'е<{. 'Tía' аом í;o!a!e loa S b*«or. ara«h o,«r(..h, r IL*• eííabaarb a: па, ;ud ry oalaaHy, -il íiaea' *aaa had î иа» .шу^-аа re-;aar<о-о! Ьа-даааеЬ u:\«-\L v,a,< eb-urrd a'-\aae aaa; I was af оп^«- jv- •■*.•; V i i о, • a, ,«'-.( Uíid in! а с Oí- аан/Г «• »í' t be baadja r.-jptain Madîaadbad а-aby..-d a eonvjdrmblo beluac, aad aa^ iч;ааЬ:а ;_dv'- !d~ <,-a]y aiVaa. da;a»/u ^.a-]¡ .i .-aí»a o. u Î?!; aiy ich' гИ.чгам- Пою üi} aealaa; n-add asaK<- aaa aa'a'h r al ¡-a«o* ¡>\ hi I :v, , î!a.; -a. i a-;,-o¡a Nor waa î ?o, a aui ; ala* birai-V < '-'da a da' !a ,■ a( j ro batí; í-.. ra-a a- ía b^.adf.a, aa>í, «ai t ao ili.-ai'a d!' a.y íd i t ara úv i¡i. rd!a¡;o.r. !,Ь<* r--;4.!Ue i-f bis lo?. íuih" would ivv;aa Ь> bis daaada¡'í*. 1 aea'.íioa ?b«',s<' í;t{, jdi if!\ abvaa ur*- íaai (!¡v atí-'-aaoufíl ИЬЬенаао laid tba>a!a my iaie,«, ia vary abaa.-;:aat }>1.а*'<ач. ^"ал Иаа •• ra> dravvaark, il joav be* ada*d, to all l.his ao-d ba^k: V* o i h bad aa yaí st'-í hei-n ball" laioaab of' e^rb aad ad- va иг*-, v,aay a faaabb' <'маааа;„ a •« •. baa M : к. .\laa,;aaa, a; у iodic!, ;aal da- aa taa, ya.,; üaabai :\ .luuuu, у-!еааа<1 но uaaaaJi да i so yai babad:\ f«.a* me aaaa-o to íinar wish, Га.a ai baaf I a<«oiodrd, aad, Hk' :he --'a .aie i oils ou: da t e<» story book who, orí iba a¡aaa ía0a* oj b- » taasUa', never ayatío. kílU-«i atice bul for her tava «I; wrsuvn, ко I ;javc ay игу ín:eii¡ia!ioo{ and iKtvo; ayaía woaí a« «:sei'pt í»a aa wcaaa aal ] i> .i.aire Ina ia a, íne?al a \a.áia Afburs Wi-Г'- $снт ajada e<|aaby aprrooaldi- b'T'.vocn my faíiier and mother aad the рагегАя «»? M area ab ааЛ îirandoa, a«. reyaab d ту :aa„, ■, .*. Kíraanr aad bdída. Aad \vb-a ain- 44 lïrifonretaiaa-d front b«,a ;<í lía* aa'aa * ' - 1'^ ira: ay. ^la w и S'baa' a';„- í baaí we ¡b.i'-de b<- ad ;, ít*' лле.е-; s'aaa'eíy, aad aí îbo ^UÍím* 1 ímír. da,oía. bad рю>' haa- ay-1 ¡, lHa m<»i.í»er f >aí í a a; b"'a.- ,he i a-,.; i,i b- ¡;abr;¡ yAy oaíled í: b(; j Г.-ааа а-.-чаа }nvl oí ev-av day waaf ra;a : íA« v. ..s.d. howcv-T, r<'íun¡edt at Ьаа^К wib' ab - a I >>aa: • d aad a<-;a ?y? ;io0 а нааН а о- ,, ; I-. :■ « а а о- i о ;а- -еч^а, s ,¡s( baayy da\ a; i i v. jn'.-ídc- tía* .>i bar. ( 'ae'bo'a "*¡aa o, aaa 'aa¡ aal lalhei^, ítíl «-a, «d., aa--- íaaa ^ . i i'a- е., ba-A a.lvv, liad aa^ . ~ i . V a ya'aabliy ;,í-¡ada ПАе-d in the "Га- К WK f'AN' НМЛ' РЛ-: ïîISTAXT Ai'^î'AINTANCKH,1 SAH) fOl/..У \VAUM;k. 26 [December 1,1869. BOYS OF ENGLAND. "You might attend to me, sir." "I do attend to you; but I really wish you would ask me about anything or anyone rather than Luke Craft." "But I don't want to know about anything else; and I insist upon your telling me, that is if you please," and, with a pretty curl of her Hp, Polly made him a low curtsy. "Well, now, look here, Polly" "Miss Warner, if you please, Mr. Ready," was the answer. "Oh, yes, certainly, Miss Warner. Well, then, once for all. I have passed my word that I never will mention why Luke Craft left your uncle, and, in spite of all that may happen, I intend to keep my word, whatever may be the consequence." "Oh, very well, sir. Thea for the future wc can only* he" "Well, what, Miss Warner?" "Very distant acquaintances't" and, with a curtsy, Polly Warner bounced out cf the count- ing-bouse, and left the "factory. Poor Bicycle Bob looked after her for a moment,, and then, with, a heavy sigh, went into the shop and:resumed work. "It's quite' clear," he muttered, "that she loves him, so I must give her up." And he remained lost to all around him till startled from his dream by a fearful sound upon the anvil, which Abel Samson had caused by letting his powerful sledge-hammer descend, uponrit with air the weight of his muscle. "OCsay what's the matter with her, eh?" said. AböL "Well, I Teally can't say, Muscle," replied Bob, with a grin; "but I think she is as diffi- cult to manage as a bicycle at the first starting. But let us to work." "Oh, you have found that out at last," mut- tered Muscle, as he bared his arms to the powerful work before him. ***** Luke Craft had, since he left the emply of old John Stout, a very difficult game to play. In the first place, he had the inquiries of his anxious mother to set at rest. "I have told you once before, mother," said he, one afternoon as he sat at the window look- ing out, and revolving in his mind the next best step to take, "that I have found engineering not at all to my ideas." "You have discovered that very suddenly, Luke. I hope there has been nothing irre- gular." "I don't know what you mean, mother," he replied, sullenly. "Well, Luke, it is my duty, as a mother, to tell you candidly that there were many things that did not please me." "Indeed," he said, with a sneer; "perhaps it was rather difficult to please two persons. I wonder whether she knows anything about the affair ?" he muttered. "In the first place you could never have been there to your time; that is a fault few masters like to overlook. Then, I have been told "! "Told what?" he said, starting up. "Nothing," she replied, "that should make you start as though you had committed some crime." For a moment the eyes of the boy sank down, but the next the subtlety of his nature had resumed sway over him, and he eyed his mother with all the coolness of innocence and rectitude. But the face of the mother had changed to an ashy paleness; there was a sickening sensation at her heart. At last the pause was broken. "There may have been faults, but no crime," said Luke, in a cool, collected voice. "I should hope not, Luke," she said, taking his hand in hers, and placing the other on his shoulder. "I should die if I thought so. There, there, it shall not be long before we'll find an- other situation for you." With that they sat down to talk over plans for the future. But these things were anything but agreeable to Luke, and a very short time passed before he rose. "Going out, Luke?" said his mother. "Yes, for a walk ; a fellow can't be cooped up all day, can he?" <; You will not be late, Luke?" "Late—well—oh, no; why?" And he looked at her almost defiantly. "Why, because the hours you keep" "I keep!" "Yes, you keep; are not the hours a lad of your years should do, and I insist" "You insist !—Ah, well, I'll attend to that another time; at present I have an appoint- ment." And so saying, he walked out of the house, pulling the door after him in no very enviable frame of mind, while the poor woman looked after him, as, with hat cocked on one side, he swaggered jauntily down the street. Luke had gone to meet some three or four ac- quaintances that he had mixed himself up with. They were, for the most part, lads who, for some misconducfror the other, had forfeited their places ; and, of course, for want of character, had some difficulty in finding others. . The end of the street leading to the factory 1 was generally the rendezvous; it afforded these young gentlemen an opportunity of studying the I different phases of human character as it passed. The inevitable beer-shop stood at the opposite corner, and round it generally assembled the idle, the worthless, and the reckless. "It would be a great lark to frighten the old lady," said the tallest boy, ^and who was the eldest of the assembled party, "what say you, Luke?" "Well, I don't see any objection, so long as it is only a lark," was the reply. "Oh, nothing else. I've heard that the old lady is very frightened of ghosts and blacks ; and so if we get some masks and put them on and frighten her, I think that will be a lark. What say you?" "Oh, we'll all be in that," was the cry of all. "When is,the lark to be, eh?" "Oh, to-morrow*night, and" Here the speaker was interrupted by Bob with his bicycle turning the comer. He had been out for a little relaxation as well as business, having received an order from a customer some three or four miles off. He had dismounted, and was leading it quietly along, when he came suddenly upon the group just mentioned. At the sight of him they raised a loud laugh, while ironical shouts of "Bicycle Bob for ever!" saluted him. This, of course, roused the attention of the crew at the beershop, who immediately joined in the cry. This would have been of but little consequence, but that, seeing him alone, they thought it a good and fitting opportunity to have a lark. The little knot, of which Luke Craft formed^ one, therefore placed themselves in a body across the road, completely intercepting the progress of Bob and his bicycle. The tall boy placed his hand upon the machine; but the next moment it was rather rudely pushed off. "Don't want your hand there, Jack Pepper," said Bob. "No harm, is there ?" answered the individual ! so addressed. "Yes, all the harm," was the reply. "You want to upset it." And Bob tried to pull it back, but found that one of them had slunk behind him, and so pre- vented it. By a quick and dexterous move, Bob gave it a sudden jerk back, and, in so doing, the toes of the aggressor came to grief. Jack Pepper, the leader, saw this, and thought it a very good opportunity to get up a row. "What do you mean by driving your nuisance over the boy's toes for. eh?" "And what do you mean by interrupting me, eh? Move out of the road and let me pass," "Oh, I say, listen to that; here's the lord mayor on a bicycle." At this they all set up a laugh, and began dancing round it. trying all they could to up- set it. But Bob stood firmly by it, and frustrated every endeavour. The numbers were against Bob, and his task was rather a difficult one. He had to keep one hand upon the vehicle, while with the other he kept his cowardly as- sailants at a distance. Things were fast coming to a crisis, for not a hand was there among them raised to assist the determined lad who so bravely kept his ground. Assistance, however, was at hand, for the boy Head-over-heels, happened to be indulging in some of his peculiar tricks, and seeing the strait Bob was placed in, rushed into the factory. "Here, I say, Muscle, there's a lot o' chaps got round Bicycle Bob, and arc trying to break the wehikel." That was quite sufficient for the workmen; with a shout, they rushed to the rescue. Jack Pepper and his lot seeing this, began to run. The rest of the mob, seeing that their fun was spoilt, sneaked off into their den—the beer- shop. Then Bob, mounting again upon his bicycle, went off at a gallant pace back to the factory, amidst the shouts of his friends, Hcad-over- heels throwing innumerable somersaults of triumph. CHAPTER 1П. IN CHASE OF THE ВШШЬЛВ. Had Luke Craft's mother been for one moment aware of the desperate set ber son. had become acquainted with, she, a woman of strong deter- mination, would have employed something like force to have stayed him from the gulf of ruin he was fast drifting into. She had tried, but in vain, to gain from John Stout the exact reason of her son's leaving his employment, but failed. The worthy old fellow did not wish to pain the mother's heart, and knowing that only him- self and Bob Beady were acquainted with it, he felt perfectly easy that she would never become any the wiser upon the matter. Still, it became a matter of talk and specula- tion among the persons who knew him what was to be done with Luke Craft. Lounging about the streets with his hands in his pockets was not the way to ^et a living, nor were the acquaintances he had formed cal- culated to raise him in the estimation of the industrious and thoughtfnl. Jack Pepper, the lad we have before alluded to, lived with his uncle, a marine store dealer close in the vicinity of the factory. From the number of persons who visited the marine store dealers shop, it could at once be seen that his business was a profitable one. The premises were large and extensive, espe- cially at the back, where was a large yard leading down to the water's edge, and ending in an old tumble-down wharf, on which was a large board in the same condition. The board, when first put up, had on it in large letters, "John Pepper's Wharf," but time and the weather had nearly obliterated it. More than a dozen times the guardians of the public peace thought they had caught Pepper ¡ receiving stolen property; but he turned the tables cleverly upon them by giving the person who had brought some article for sale, into custody. The hopeful nephew of this man was seldom seen to do more than loll against the door-post, and look about him. There was a great deal more in that look-out than people imagined, and though many thought that old Pepper was bringing up young Pepper in a life of idleness, never were people more egregiously mistaken. A mortal aversion had grown up between Bicycle Bob and Jack, and more than one en- counter had taken place between them, which had ended in Pepper coming off second best. Luke Craft had, by instinct, taken to Jack, and was his constant associate. The old wharf was a favourite spot for them to congregate in, and it was not long before, headed by Jack, they found themselves there in safety. Crouching up in an old shed, they talked the matter over. "I tell you what, Luke Craft, I can't say that I like your skulking back, as you did to-night. We might have knocked him over long before the men came up, if you had stood well up with us.1' Decemdeiï i, isaaj 27 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "Why, I stood close behind you, Jack, ready to play my part, but the men came down so quick upon us that we could do nothing." "Ah, well, all I know is that if we are to keep as friends, we must stick by each other;" and Jack Pepper gave a very sulky sort of whistle. There was a pause among them for a few minutes as if what Jack had said cast a chili and a gloom over them. "What about the lark at the old ladies to- morrow night?" at length said Luke. "Oh, it ain't any use doing it," replied Jack, in a pretended fit of sulks. "Why not, eh ?" said the rest. "Because, at the last moment, you would all sneak out, and, perhaps, leave me in the lurch, and so it's best left alone," and again came forth the sulky whistle. "I won't go back from what I said," replied Luke. "Nor any of us," replied the others. "Come, Jack, give over the sulks, and let us ] know all about it," said Luke, tapping him on the shoulder. "Oh, I don't know about it; all I know is, it would be rare fun; we could have our lark out and soon be home, and no one be any the wiser." "Ah, that is just the thing," said Luke. "Where is it, Jack?" "Well, you know the villa just at the end of the lane before you come to old Stout's cottage?" "I know it, Jack, if the others don't. I have often noticed the place and the old women. They say they are rich." There was a peculiar gleam shone in the eyes of Jack Pepper as the word rich was uttered by Craft. "Ah, well, that has nothing to do with it ; it's only for the fun of the thing that we are going, that is all." "Only to frighten the women." "Just so. I'll have the masks ready. I know how to get in at a back window, and then, when we are all in, we'll put them on, and burst upon them." "Ha, ha! Oh, won't they scream and halloo out?" "Well, then, we'll all meet at the end of the dead wall, and go off separately, that no one will be the wiser. Now, we are a'l agreed ; and mind, if anything happens, we won't say a word about one another." "Not a word," said they all; and with that they departed for the night. Had the lads who had engaged to join in this piece of fun, as the amiable Jack Pepper had termed it, been aware of the character of their leader, they would, perhaps, have hesi- tated. The net with which this fellow hoped to ensnare them was one that was intended to enrich himself at the expense of their names and j honesty. Both uncle and nephew had long been con- nected with the most expert thieves in the metropolis, and it had long been planned that the house in which these two old ladies lived should be ransacked of all that was valuable. While Jack Pepper and his poor deluded companions were having their fun, some more experienced hands would be carrying away the valuables. Of course, the only person who was cognisant of this nefarious plot was Pepper, for had Luke Craft, with all his badness of disposition, been aware of it, he would have shrank from the terrors of the law. But so plausible, so apparently open and candid did he appear, that much keener-sighted lads would have fallen into the snare. * * * * The work at the factory kept steadily on the increase, not only with the making of the "bicycles, but other important works ; so that the sun of prosperity seemed to be again shining on the hard-working. The wonderful ease with which Bob Ready rode and managed his vehicle was the admiration and wonder to all who saw it. He caused it almost to fly along the road, and bad more than once kept up with some very fast horses. A swift runner would, have stood no chance against him. Every night, no matter the hour, Bob, some- times attended by Muscle and Head-over-heels, started for home; but the two latter were often obliged to shout out, "good night!" and make the best of their way by themselves. With regard to Polly Warner, Bob let things take their course; his word to keep silent re- specting Luke Craft had been given, and so strong were the principles of honesty and probity in- culcated in his mind, that no temptation or power could have caused him to swerve from the path of duty. * * * * I Night had just set in when Jack Pepper and 1 his companions met at the end of the long wall as agreed upon. All were there nearly to their time except one, and that one was Luke Craft. After he had left his associates on the night the fun and lark had been projected against the peace and property of the two ladies, some very strange doubts and misgivings rose in the mind of the lad. A vague and dreamy shadow passed across his mind that, if anything was to be gained by the lark, Jack Pepper would be the boy to win. He pondered over the affair, and sat thinking whether he should go on or retreat, and so deeply did he sit pondering over the matter, that it occasioned more than once a great surprise in the-anxious mind of his mother. To all her inquiries, however, he merely answered that he was "thinking what was best to be done." As night fell and thetime approached, he more than once arose, and taking up his cap, made for the door and then returned. At last, fearful by this sort of conduct, so very unusual in him, of exciting his mother's suspi- cions, he opened the door and went out into the 'street. "I think that Jack Pepper has got something j more in his head than a mere lark. I have a good mind not to go upon this wild-goose chase, it is but a row about it afterwards and there is an end of the matter." He stood still for a moment to reflect upon the matter, and at the same moment he was run against; the night being more than or- dinarily dark prevented persons from seeing each other. "ffilloa, is that you, Luke Craft?" said Bob Beady. "I didn't intend to run over you in thatfashion." "Well, I dare say not," replied Luke, surlily; "but you did. You have always been trying to run over me, and run me down. Some day I shall be even with you." "I would rather be your friend than be opposed to you, Luke; but I am not afraid of you. I suppose if I gave you a bit of advice you wouldn't accept of it." "I want none of your gifts," replied the other. <£ Why do you meddle with me?" "Why, because I don't like to see a lad like you go to the bad, sinking, I may say, without stretching out a hand to save you." "Indeed !" and a bitter sneer crossed Luke's face. "How very kind!" "You would think so as well as say it if you would only look at things in the proper light. There is one thing I should advise you to do." "Well, what is that, eh?" "Get rid of the companionship of Jack Pepper." Before Luke could reply, that individual, who had become impatient to know what had kept Luke away, started off in search, and thus un- expectedly came upon the scene. "Well, what is the matter with Jack Pepper, eh, and what have you got to do with him, eh, Bob Beady?" "Oh, I have nothing to do with you, and don't wish to," said Bob. "What's he been a saying about me, eh, Luke?" And Jack Pepper made a motion as though he was about to doff his jacket. "Well, he says I'd better give up your com- pany." Jack and Luke smiled bitterly upon Bob. "Oh, does he? and I suppose you mean to attend to what he says, eh?" « Not I, Jack." "Very well, it is no business of mine." \ And Bob made as though he would pass \ them. "Well, then, if it was no business of yours what did you meddle with it for, eh? I think we have got you now, eh, Luke?" "Yes; 1 owe him a score, and I think we'll pay him out," replied Luke. "Yes ; he ain't got his mates about him now. So, Master Bob, take that !" and Pepper aimed a blow at Bob with real savage earnestness. "Give ¡ him another, Luke," he shouted. _ But they had made a slight mistake in their calculations. Before Luke could do that, Pepper was lying upon the broad of his back from a well-directed blow from Bob, who, the moment Jack came up, had made up his mind what was going to happen. He knew the characters of both well, and how to meet them, and so the moment Jack com- menced offensive preparations, Bob had settled the matter by knocking him in the gutter. "I have something of consequence to attend to now," said Bob, passing on. "But I should advise you both to mind what you are about." So saying, he walked away. The next moment Jack was up, and would have run after him, for he was not deficient in courage, but he suddenly remembered the little "game of fun " they were going upon, "I'll serve him out some other time," he said to Luke. "I don't want to miss our lark to- night. But all this is through you." "Through me; how?" "How! we have been a waiting for you, and I began to thing you were not coming." "Well, I did think" They had commenced walking back to their companions, but at this Jack suddenly stopped. "Think what?" he said, suddenly, looking hard in the face of Luke. "That I would have stopped at home, instead of" "I don't think you would, Luke; because I should have come and fetched you." "Oh, stuff and nonsense! You are not my master yet" said Luke, fiercely. "T don't know that," replied the other, with a scowl. "I know a little more than you would like me to tell the old woman." "You know!" and the boy recoiled from him. "Yes, know all." « All what, Jack?" "About the cheque." "About the cheque! and who" "Told me; why the chap that has just left ! us, Bob Beady. I think I am your master now." "Come along," said Luke, with a desperate clutch of Jack's arm, "or we shall lose the fun. Curse—a double curse—upon that Bob Beady. I'll serve him out for this.'* "Of course you shall ; it's safe with me, honor bright; and so now for the lark." At that moment they joined the others, and without another word started off in the direction of the house. As arranged they went off singly, to avoid anything like suspicion, and Jack Pepper and Luke both walked on the opposite sides of the way. The house they were going to was very soon reached. It was situated some little distance from the road, and was approached up a narrow lane. It had two entrances to it, the one in front of the lane, and another higher up leading to the back of the house. At the corner of the lane Jack, Luke, and the others stoppod. "We'll put on the masks here," said Jack; "the old 'uns ain't gone to bed yet; I can see by the glimmering of the light there." (To be continued. Commenced in No. 158.) It is only those that have done nothing who fancy they can do everything. 2 s BOYS OF ENGLAND. [December 1, 18C9. PHILIP'S PERILS BY LAND AND SEA- By Charles Я. Ross and Qüenttn Richards. CHAPTER XLVIH.—(continued.) but it blazes merrily, for the spirit is above proof, and has not paid a stiver to his Majesty's excise. It comes from a barrel that formed a portion of the most successful run of the season with the little smug- gling gang of the Merton coast: for Burgess was of too active a disposi- tion to retire from all occupation, and so he made one in the illicit commerce of smuggling carried on long and unsuspectedly in that part. The chintz-covered chair caught, and the wood crackled. The flames licked the wooden panelling of the walls. In a few more minutes the whole building would be enveloped. Startled for an instant into presence of mind, the incendiary springs to his feet, and makes a rush at the window. He drags at the fastenings, and pulls in madness at the sash, and then, in his frenzy, dashes out three or four diamond panes of the lattice win dow. But the frame remains firm. A rush of cold air is more welcome to his parched mouth than the most delicious nectar that was ever brewed in Olympus. A dark grinning face appears on the other side of the broken pane. "You fastened down the window yourself, Mark Wilberforce I" says the watcher. "Bürgels !" gasps the guilty Mark. "The same.'" "Ay, that's the word," pursued the sailor, "you would have been ruined to-morrow for a dead certainty. In the first place, it isn't likely you'd have got out of Jack Ketch's clutches, for it isn't an easy matter in this dear country. But, independently of that, I have left my letter addressed to Doctor Mathews, a duplicate ad- dressed to the rector, and a third one for your cousin Philip Merton I" "You lie !" cried Mark, with a start. "I swear I speak the truth," retorted Burgess. "Then you lied in telling me that he was dead." "I did not. I told you what I thought was true. How he escaped goodness only knows. I shall always look upon it as a miracle. But escape he did, and, what's more, he's here in Merton now." Mark looked stupefied. "Philip here, in Merton!" he ejaculated. "You would deceive me. I cannot believe it!" So a moment of weakness caused the poor girl weeks of hopeless misery. The time drew on until, as we have seen, they were within two days of their wedding day. Mark had kept the matter quiet; he did not like the gossips of Merton to wag their idle tongues upon his concerns. So he said to his future father-in-law. But in reality his reasons for silence were very different indeed to these. Mark thought that Burgess had no idea of the state of the case; and now he thought with this black deed to sweep away the only drawback to his future happiness. Mark now saw that his danger was great, and once more he entered into a compact with the man he had failed to destroy. "Come," said Burgess, " you'll make a pretty bridegroom like that; we must try and dodge you up a bit for the auspicious occasion, though how the dickens we are going to make up for burning off your eyebrows is more than I can say." CHAPTER XLIX. IN THE TOILS. BUEOESS it was too. And thus had he entrapped Mark Wilberforce, the traitor who had stolen forth at midnight to destroy him. Never was would-be biter more completely bit. Burgess stood looking on until the (lames were scorching the wretched Mark, and then he thought it time to interfere, so he displaced the fasten- ings he had put outside the door, and dragged it open. Mark staggered forward, but Bur- gess menaced him back with a huge cudgel. "Come a step nearer the door, and I'll brain you !" he said, sternly. Mark quailed before the threatener, and dare not advance. The dreadful peril he had undergone, and the fright together at the diabolical sounds from without before he knew that his destined victim was upon the watch, had taken from him the very little spirit he ordinarily possessed. Then, down he went upon his knees, and fawned and begged for mercy. He crawled before the sailor upon the floor, and Burgess absolutely spurned him. Nothing could possibly equal the degradation —the bitter agony of that moment. Then it was that Philip Merton was thoroughly and amply avenged upon his traitor cousin for all the misery caused him. The wrong was fully compensated, and this too by the guilty man's accomplice in crime. "There, that'll do," said Burgess, "get up and help me undo the mischief you have caused; this job will cost you dear, my friend." Mark knew it. They drenched the place with water, and at length when there was no longer the slightest cause for apprehension, Burgess said to Mark, "Now it's all over, you may as well know, that had you succeeded in murdering me—" Mark winced. "THE INCENDIARY SPRINGS TO HIS FEET AND RUSHES AT THE WINDOW." "You have only to go down to the village to assure yourself. He is sleeping to-night at the Arms. You should have carried on your burning out game there, not here." Mark winced at this. "Do you know what he has got back for so quietly ?" demanded Burgess; and then, as Mark made no reply, he went on— "I'll tell you. He comes back just in time to spoil you for the marriage with the Dutch girl. I know that it is very near." Mark changed colour, and so told that the sailor's random shots struck home. The wedding of Mark Wilberforce and Gretchen Wouvermanns was to take place on the Thursday following. This was the Tuesday. The day which had just dawned was the last but one that Gretchen was to pass unwed. She was to go to the altar an unwilling bride. Her father had a very marked and punctilious sense of honour, and he decided that Gretchen had given the owner of Merton encouragement, and that she was bound in honour to accept his hand. Gretchen's awe of her father was not less than her love. She dared not tell him how deeply her heart was opposed to such an union. CHAPTER L. A STARTLING ENCOUNTER. No signs of the visitor that Burgess announced as the day advanced. Had the sailor spoken falsely Î Evidently he had thought to speak the truth, for he had taken a long journey upon a matter nearly concern- ing the statement he had advanced; a journey which was later to produce some very singular results. Mark had sent out messengers to learn if there had been any strange arrivals in Merton. He could not speak out plainer than this, for the guilty man was without a single person in whom he dared confide. Rascal as he was, his destiny was one worthy of the pity of guileless minds. As he sat down in moody reflection, a servant brought him a note. It was in Gretchen's handwriting, and contained these words :— "I have something to say to you which cannot admit of delay ; will you bestow five minutes of your valuable lime upon, "Yours truly, "Gretchen." An odd way for a man's betrothed to sign a letter upon the eve of their wedding day! Mark sent a few words in reply. He was at her service now for the remainder of his life. And when the servant had gone he began to reproach himself with neglecting his fiancée in his great preoccupation. "lama fool," he muttered ; "were the girl's heart less my own I might have lost her entirely. I have been slighting her, and her note shows that her pride is wounded. But she loves me, and a word of mine can set all right again." He stepped out of the glass door on to the lawn as Gretchen appeared. "Dear Gretchen !" he exclaimed, as he ran up to meet her and raised her gloved hand tenderly to his lips, " Miss Wouvermanns, this is the last day you will have a right to that name." Gretchen coloured up to the roots of her brown hair and then turned ashy pale. But she was silent. "She hasn't got over her pique yet," thought Mark. "Poor jealous little creature, I must coax her round a little." Had he been paying any attention to his betrothed he would have seen that she was undergoing an inward struggle which was costing her considerable pain. "Mr. Mark," she said, presently, speaking with a visible effort at self-control, " I want to speak a few words seriously to you." "Seriously!" "Yes, and at once." "When you please, dear Gretchen," said Mark. Decembeb 1, 1SG3.J 29 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "She is going to scold," he thought to himself. "Perhnps, after all, she is a bit oî a shrew, but I'll tame her when we're man and wife." She asked him to walk on a little way. She wished to be safe out of her father's way. The Dutchman was an enthusiastic entomologist, and be was out in the grounds in pursuit of this favourite distraction. "Let us go to the grotto—Master Philip's grotto, as the servants call it," she said. Mark looked vexed. The bare mention of his cousin's name was distasteful to him, and he had given very strict orders that it was not to be mentioned. The grotto was formerly called Master Philip's Grotto, because my hero had designed and almost entirely constructed it; but for the past two or three years it had been simply styled the grotto, in pursuance of the orders specially issued by Mark and the new steward. Here they strolled down, and as they went poor Grctchen gathered heart and told her tale. She pleaded hard and pitifully for forgiveness if she had raised a passion in his breast that she could not reciprocate, but her heart had long since been another's. As she went on Mark listened like one in a dream. He was utterly stupefied by her words. He could offer no reply. ** Who is my rival ?" was all he could at length manage to murmur, in a voice hoarse and thick with rage. Grctchen hung her head as she made answer, "The namesake of he who made this grotto." "Hah !" exclaimed the maddened Mark, «' that miserable sailor with whom you were cast away upon the island?" Gretchen's eyes flashed indignantly at this contemptuous mention of one so dear to her, and ehe retorted with a spirit that one would scarce have deemed her capable of. 1 "It speaks little for your attractions, Mr. Wilberforcc, if a * miserable sailor's' bare memory can be more dear to mc than your assiduous attentions." "Enough!" said Mark, more brutally than the circumstance warranted; "I must decline pursuing this romantic theme any further until Mr. Wouvermanns has been consulted." This filled Grctchen with alarm. "You will not make unhappiness between my father and I ?" she said, imploringly. "Oh, sir, if you are a man you will not press me cruelly when you know my affections are already engaged." Mark was silent. "Say that you release me from this mistaken engagement," she pursued, auguring favorably îrom his silence. His features were almost livid with passion as lie retorted— "Never, by heaven!" and he seized her roughly by the wrist. "Mine you shall be, I swear it 1" Grctchen gave a faint cry. Just then there was a rush, the foliage was dashed aside, and a young man leapt into the open space. To seize Mark by the collar and send him whirling to the ground, was the work of an instant. "Traitor! Unmanly ruffian and coward!" Mark knew the voice before he had scarce ^een the form, and, as he sprawled upon the ground, he gasped affrightedly— "Philip Г CHAPTER LI. TUBNING THE TABLES. "Yes, Philip 1" cried his indignant cousin. "Bise and get from my sight, faithless man— ialse friend and traitor! Begone, and never let this dear girl see your craven face again I" "And leave her to you ?" snarled the defeated villain, "never!" Gretchen at the first sight of Philip was so bard hit that she swooned, and would have lallen to the ground had not his ready arm pro- tected her. Mark rose and slid off, muttering threats as he went, and as he disappeared the fair girl recov- ered from her momentary faint, and looking up affrightedly her eyes rested upon Philip's, and a deep flush suffused her cheeks. "Fear nothing now, dear Gretchen," said the young sailor, pressing her tenderly to him, " now no one shall harm you." Gretchen was filled with mingled emotions of surprise, joy, fright, and apprehension of her father's displeasure that she knew not what to say first. "Philip !" she murmured, as though unable to comprehend the meaning of the scene, "is it indeed you? How did you come here?" "I came in search of you," was his reply, "and I came opportunely, dear Gretchen." "But my father," were her next words, without having comprehended at all what had gone before. *' Fear nothing from him," replied Philip, "He will welcome me as you have done, when he knows all." "What mean you?" "That he will bless the chance that saved you from marrying my scoundrelly cousin." "Cousin!" "Yes, cousin; have you not guessed the truth?" Gretchen replied in a half-confused way. It had all come upon her so suddenly that she could not comprehend it. Philip hastened to explain what was not clear, and Grctchen was filled with amazement. "Now let us goto your father, dear Gretchen," he said, " for I long to see my old friend, and to take him by the hand arid bid him welcome to Merton." They had not proceeded thirty yards in the direction of the house, when three men were seen coming towards them. As they drew nearer one of them advanced more rapidly, and in this man Philip recognised one of his former shipmates of the " Sprightly." "Burgess !" he exclaimed, in astonishment; "why whatever brings you to Merton?" "Duty," was the reply. "I come to arrest you!" "For what?" "Deserting from his majesty's navy." Philip said nothing. He divined treachery in an instant, and, therefore, with ready presence of mind, he blew shrilly upon a metal whistle. In a trice Speight was upon the spot, and ac- companied by another memberof the "Sprightly's" present crew. "Hah !" ejaculated Burgess, "you mean to resist; but I warn you that it will be at your peril. Seize him 1" he added, to his two com- panions. At the word he stepped forward and seized Philip roughly by the collar. Gretchen uttered a faint cry. "Do not be alarmed, Gretchen," said Philip. "I call all present to witness this assault. Hands off, scoundrel!" And twisting himself free with a jerk, he dealt the sailor a heavy blow. It went straight from the shoulder, catching his man fairly between the eyes, and sent him to grass like a log. With a bitter imprecation on his lips he rose and drew the cutlass with which he had armed himself for the business. But before he could make use of his weapon Speight had twisted it out of his hand. "Now then, messmates," said the boatswain, "lay this lubber by the heels. This is hanging matter. He's assaulted his superior officer." Hereupon one of the two men engaged to effect the arrest of Philip, and who began to suspect something wrong, asked what it all meant, and explained that they were acting by proper authority in this matter. "This is what it means," was Philip's reply, as he produced his commission as lieutenant in King George's navy. These two men were in the coastguard service, and had been formerly in the navy, so that they knew well enough that this was true. It was curious to see the men who had come to secure Philip Merton laying by the heels the man who had commanded his arrest. "Why you confounded lubbers!" cried Bur- gess, struggling boldly with them, "you ain't a going to" But before he could finish they had dragged him off; and Mr. Burgess passed his night in the round-house, as the Merton lock-up was called. Philip and Gretchen, accompanied by Speight, went up to the Hall in search of Mr. Wouver- manns, whom they met near the entrance. The Dutchman was laden with specimens of the insect tribe—rare moths and beetles—in boxes of pasteboard, and an entomologist's muslin net with which he had trapped the chief portion of that day's spoil. As soon as he caught sight of his former friends, sharers of their dangers and adventures, he let fall his whole burthen, and so wasted his whole day's labours. "What, Philip Speight I" he ejaculated. "Is it possible !—and William Speight, or do my eyes deceive me?" Philip seized his hand and shook it heartily. "There, Mr. Wouvermanns," he said, "at any- rate that doesn't deceive you. Welcome to Merton." "And William Speight," said the Dutchman, pleasure and wonderment struggling for the mastery in his countenance. "Your hand, Mr. William." Then what a deal they had to explain, what a history had Philip and Speight to give them. Firstly, to satisfy the impatience of his hearers, Philip was obliged to give a hurried outline of the story and to leave the details to be filled in later. "And so," said the Dutchman, as he shook Philip by the hand for the twentieth time, "you have made it your first care to find us out upon reaching old England?" "The very first." "But how did you contrive to trace us to Merton?" "Easily enough," was the reply. "I only made one inquiry," "Where?" "In London." "London is a big place," said Wouvermanns, smiling, "yet I could understand it if I had happened to be the Dutch ambassador. But an obscure and retired merchant I" "I had a notion that you might be known either at the Dutch embassy or the consulate. So I began my inquiries at the latter place, and fortunately you were known, so I had no need to apply at the embassy. I had every possible incentive to draw me hither." "You arc a very good fellow to say во." "Wait till you have heard all," added Philip. "By the capture of the treasures of Bilboo's gang, we made such a share of prize money for all concerned as few expeditions in the course of the war have realised. Now all our success has been due to your carefully prepared plans—to your ingenious calculations, so that in all justice you must have your share of the prize money." "Not a crown," interrupted Mr. Wouver- manns. « But" "Nay, you cannot persuade me to that," he went on. "If I happened to be a poor man; if I were in a position to need such assistance, I would not refuse, but, as it is, I must firmly, positively decline." "Then I have yet another proposal," said Philip; "and that is to present it to Miss Wouvermanns as her wedding portion." "Ha!" said the Dutchman, smiling, and glancing at his daughter, "you have heard the news. You have just arrived in time to assist at the wedding." "And play an important part," said Philip; "for my aspirations point to no less prominent a character than that of bridegroom." Mr. Wouvermanns only replied to this by the glance of one who mistrusts the evidence of his cars. "I don't quite understand." "In plain English, I want to call you father- to make your daughter my wife." The Dutchman gave a start, and glanced from Philip to Gretchen, and back again ; and it tfas clear that what he read in their faces gave him cause for uneasiness. (To be continued. Commenced in No. 142 ) 30 BOYS OF ENGLAND. [DECEMBER 1, 1SG9. THE HIDDEN CRIME; OB, BAFFLED BY FATE. By the Author of *' Chevt Chase." "Prince Hal," &c. 4 CHAPTER XXIX.—(continued.) ÎJHE consternation and excitement that followed this unexpected announcement can be better imagined than described. "He lives! my f nth er, he lives!" exclaimed Edith, sink- ing at her father's feet, while Mabel Lycester and young Montague sprang forward to embrace their parent. Carey looked almost bewildered at this sudden end to all his troubles, but Martin Pox's face was black and furious as that of a fiend. "What devil is this comes dragging back the dead to life ?" he muttered. "They think to defeat me—to overthrow all my plans; yet they are mis- taken, for here is the marriage contract; with my name it will be valid. Softly, Martin Fox." With these words he moved etealthily towards the table, spread out the marriage contract which Edith had signed, and was about to write his own name upon it. Suddenly another paper was laid over it, and Goring'e mocking voice exclaimed— "Softly, Martin Fox." The usurer stared first at the document and then at the young cavalier. "My private papers! thief!" he exclaimed, at length, making a clutch at it. "I certainly have taken the liberty of stealing a dozen or thereabouts of the most valuable ones." replied Goring. "May I beg a few minutes' talk with you. Sir James Montague, the resuscitated?" "Certainly," replied Mabel's father, coming forward, accompanied by his two children. "Most dear, revivified father, for so I hope to call you ere long," he commenced, not heeding the pinches Mabel bestowed upon him, " I have here a writing." "Have I aught to do with it?" "This deed names Lafont the guardian of your children, but I much doubt whether you ever saw it before." "I never did; it is a forgery!" exclaimed Mon- tague, as he closely examined the document. "I thought so. Here are others, mortgages, bonds, and assignments, all in favour of this wretch whom I have served for some few days." "All false. Officers, arrest that knave," con- tinued the baronet, addressing Percy and Jermyn, who had remained silent yet amused spectators of the scene. "These are only sham officers," replied Goring, with a laugh. "I guessed what he wanted, and took care to provide friends of mine for the occasion. Oh, I would almost give my hand to have a couple of real officers here on the spot." "You shall never witness my triumph. I'll go drown myself rather !" muttered Martin Fox. "Stay," was Montague's reply, "good friend Goring, I also provided officers for this assembly. You will find them in the ante-room. They are good and genuine officers, duly appointed by His Majesty's justices of the peace." In another moment four officers of justice were in the apartment. Two of them at once secured Martin Fox, who, on looking round, was somewhat surprised to see Cap- tain Otter in the custody of two others, while close behind stood Lazarus the Jew and Allan Moir. "Devil! Uten you have betrayed me!" said Fox, with a deep oath. A sneering laugh was the only reply. "Carey—or, rather, I should say, Lord Howard, we have each something to pardon. Can you for- give?" "I can, even as I hope to be forgiven." "Good j shake hands. Now there is something else to be done. In the olden time both you and I held the commission of the peace; those com- missions have never been revoked; let us hear the evidence against these prisoners." "Agreed. We will give them full justice." "Justice without mercy, if you love me," said the enthusiastic Goring. The prisoners were then brought forward; Martin Fox being first. Crimes were proved against him, viz., that he had forged deeds purporting to be signed by Sir James Montague, that he had thrown the aforesaid Sir James into the stream with intent to murder, that he had embezzled goods and money belonging to the children of Sir James Montague, and that ho had conspired with one known as Cap- tain Otter to slay divers persons. Allan Moir, Lazarus, Goring and Sir James Montague were witnesses in this case. Against Otter it was proved that he had slain Allan's father, and had attempted to murder Goring —with various minor crimes. They were sent to be tried before the Lord Chief Justice, and, that we may no more be bothered with such vile characters, let it suffice if we here state that shortly afterwards they both suftered the extreme penalty of the law at Tyburn tree. * « * * ♦ The next day the same party (excepting the criminals) assembled in the house of Lord Howard, as we must again call him. Sir James Montague held in his hand a document by which the baronetcy was transferred to his son —Edith's betrothed. He intended to continue the ministry in which he had embarked. "Yet, ere I go," said he, "I must jgive my son one more gift. That is this fair lady." Edith blushed, and hung down her head, but willingly placed her hand in that of the youth she loved. "Honoured father, have you no gift for me?" exclaimed Goring. "What is it you require, madcap?" "A wife and a father. Bestow your daughter and yourself upon me in those capacities. I have earned a good reward, I assure you, for I have worked hard of late, and received nothing from that scoundrel, Martin Fox." "Are you quite cured of all your vices?" asked Mabel. "Every one of them! I'll swear I won't drink; in fact I'll be the most model husband and father that ever the world saw." "These are very good promises, Mabel," observed her father. "What do you say, girl?" "Why, if there were no other man in the world, I would rather wed him than remain a widow j so Goring, there is my hand." "Well, I am content." At this moment a knock was heard. "Come in," exclaimed Lord Howard. The door flew open and Jenny Palmer entered, looking slightly confused. "What is it?" asked Montague. "If you please, sir, I hear my master is in danger of being hanged." "He is," replied Goring, " and you cannot do better than pray heaven that he escape not the danger which threatens him." "I do, sir, most devoutly every morning and evening. But——" "But what?" "I also hear that every one else is in danger of being married, and so I thought, if your worships had no objection, I—I would" "You would like to be married, too. Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Goring. "But where is the bride- groom, and who is he?" "He is only a clerk like yourself, sir, but not quite so impudent. He did not like to come in without being asked." "Then bring him along," said Lord Howard. Jenny went to the door, and after a great deal of beckoning and whispering produced before the eyes of the expectant company Master Fisher, principal secretary to Wilfred Carey—we beg his pardon- Lord Howard. "Oh, what will Jennings say!" exclaimed Goring. "The nasty old wretch! I hope you did not think I was in love with him," replied Jenny. Necessary permission having been given, it was arranged that the three couples should be married on the same day and at the same church. As it was arranged, so it happened. Three happier couples never stood before the altar than those who were united in the bonds of holy matrimony. Happy also was their after life. Young Sir James Montague found Edith the most charming of all wives; while Mabel discovered that a reformed rake was, after all, a very respectable husband. Allan Moir was taken charge of by Lord Howard, and fitly provided for; while, in the general happi- ness that prevailed, all forgot how they had suffered through the Hidden Crime, the evil consequences of which had been so dexterously Baffled by Fate. FINIS. THE BOYS OF ENGLAND LIFE-BOAT. SuùscriÔed to by the Boys of England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales. Amount last acknowledged, £279 9s. 2d. Тпепе is no folly equal to that of throwing away friendship in a world where friendship is so rare. A Scene in a Railway Carriage.—Fond wife: "Let me see your paper a moment, dear." Brutal husband: "Yes, as soon as we get to the tunnel." W. It. Koyce, Ross F. A. R., Cheltenham.. John Carter, jnn., Bishop's Srortford... Pretty Dick's Legacy.. Fred. W. Brook, Hud- derafield A. L. G., Gloeter Collected (per card) by Mr. William John AVyatt, 9, North Audley Street, Gros- venor Square :—John Wyatt, Gd.; William John Wyatt, 6d.; John Webb, 6d.; E. J. В., Id. ; Mary Melluish, 3d.; Mr. Quantock, 3d.; A. W. C, Is.; Adèle Guerche, Is.; Nil Desperandum, Cd.; W. Matthews, 6d Collected (per card) by Amount received 5 1 Mr. Frank ShOTt, Salisbury Street, Shaftesbury Chas. Cheater, Gd.; A. Baker, ?£d. ; F.Short, 3d.; G. Short, 2d.: Up in a Balloon, r>d.; A Schoolboy, Id.; Nobody, Id.; Shan- ker, 2d; Bones, 3d.; A Gentleman, Is.; T. Oborne. 2d.; Banjo, 2d. ; G. Gate- 3 bouse, 2£d Collected (per card) by F. J. Davison, St. Leonard Street,Peter- boronprh Mr. John Pa vi gar, Is.; F. J. Davison, Is.; Hawk Eve, Id. ; Soapy Sam, Id. ; Mr. H. Lambert, 2d. ; Four Crows, 2d. 2 up to Not. 18, £280 5s. lOd. VAIN REGBETS. Ah. how oft, mid memory's dreamings, We who sorrow's keenness know Vainly crave for some bright gleamings Of our buried ** long ago!" Sighing for some love long vanished, With a bitter throb of pain, Dreaming of bright hopes now banished, Never to return again. Never ! and the heart grows weary, Moaning o'er the bitter fate That has left it lone and dreary, Sadly wailing—but too late! Vain aro the regrets that thrall us While we think what might have been; Nothing ever can recall us, Of the past, one joyful scene. All may have fled, yet we must linger Till our allotted task be done; And, thank God, time, with soothing finger. Heals our bruises one by ono. Be always at leisure to do good. Never make business an excuse for declining offices of humanity. Affections.—Hearts may be attracted by assumed qualities; but the affections are only to be fixed by those which are real. "When I was first married it was a perpetual adoration, an incessant delirium, an inexpressible bliss. I showered caresses upon my husband; I could have eaten him." 1 * And now ?" asked a friend. "I'm sorry I didn't." Slander.—Look on slanderers as direct enemies to civil society; as persons without honour, honesty, or humanity. Whoever entertains you with the faults of others designs to serve you in a similar manner. Feeling ms Way.—" Uncle," said a j-oung man. who thought that his guardian supplied him rather sparingly with pocket-money, "is the Queen's head still on the sovereign?" "Of course it is, you stupid fellow. Why do you ask?" "Because it is such a length of time since I saw one." À Help-meet.—" What shall I help you to?" in- quired the daughter of a landlady of a modest youth at the dinner-table. "A wife," was the meek reply. The young lady blushed, perhaps indignantly, and it is said that the kindly offices of a neighbouring clergyman were requisite to reconcile the parties. When the celebrated Lord Castlereagh was stop- ping once to change horses at some very poverty- stricken post-station in Ireland, his carriage was surrounded by beggars, who implored him in all the eager accents of native entreaty for charity. Taking no notice of their appeals, he sat cold and unmoved till the horses were ready to start, when a very miserable-looking fellow approached the car- riage, and said, in a voice of persuasive entreaty, "One sixpence, my lord, only one little sixpence, and it will treat all your friends in Ireland!" A Shoemaker of Aberdeen had come into a for- tune after having fallen into several misfortunes, chiefly from feminine causes. He sought to divorce his wife, and she sought to divorce him ; and in the various suits £2,000 or £3,000 was spent. Lord Deas, during a dispute about the wife's expenses, asked, "How would the shoemaker have got justice if he had been obliged to stick to his last ?"—The Lord President instantly answered, "He would have required to have spent his awl." December i, ibcd.] 3x BOYS OF ENGLAND. (kïïàm for iljî Jngmiows. | *»* Original Contributions only are required, and must be accompanied by name and address. Any puzzle or charade received after this date, and found to have been copied from other publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from t?ie same person will be accepted. Xo Puzzle mill be accepted unless Oie Solutions are properly worked out. Numbered Charades in particular must have full answers sent witíi them. I. An island in the West Indies ; a port in Portugal ; a river in India; a town in China; a county in England; a town in America; a province of France. The initials read downwards, will give you the name of a great English philosopher. James P. Graham. и. The name of a great Indian hero; a late beloved prince; an admiral in the Russian war; a general in the Penin-ular war; a famous earl; a famous poet; a great Russian prince and general; a famous Welsh prince. The initials read downwards will give tho namo of a great Roman general. JAMES P. GRAIIAM. III. 1. A town in Kent. 2. A large town in Scotland. 3. A country in Europe. 4. A town in Kent. 5. A month in the year. G. A famons battle-field in Russia. 7. One of England's greatest admirals. 8. A position in the army. 0. A continent. 10. A town in Yorkshire. 11. One of the nothern counties. 12. A town in Scotland. 13. A county in Wales. 14. A lighthouse off the coast of Cornwall, 15. A famous book by Sir Walter Scott. 1G. A large city in Ireland; and the whole is a f amons author. D. WAKEL1KG. IV. I consist of 28 letters. My 2,9, 25,12,16,13 is a disagreeable insect ; my 21, 23, 1G, 3,12 is a bird; my 10, 20, 5, G is a reptilo; my 23, 27, 28 Is a domestic animal; my 20, 28,1, 25,22, 24, 8 is a large foreign bird ; my 10,14, 5, 4, 3 is a large fish ; my 4,17,11, 12 is the king of animals; my 18, 9, 7 is a useful domestic animal ; and my wholo is the second name of one of the finest tales in the Boys op England. W. F. Trinder. v. I am composed of 5 words and 33 letters. My 8, 27,14,11 is a colour my 17, 24, 12, 33 is a com- panion; my 3, 18, 25, 26, 28, 27 is a metal ; my 32,18, 2G, 11 is to imitate ; my 13, 19, 1,18, 29 is a lake in North America ; my 28, 29, 30, 2, 3, 21 is to allure; my 18,17, 5, 8, 13 is a town in Ulster ; my 5, 7. 2,21,19 means farewell; my 32, 4, 16, 23, 28 is to pursue; my 13, 31, l,10isto engage for pay; my 24, 20, 17 belongs to the body; my G, 19,10 is to lament ; my 23, 24, 2Л a tree could not do with- out; my 33, 9,16,18, 22 is a mistake; my 4, 14, 9, is a personal pronoun ; and my whole is the name of a person in the tale of *' Prince Hal." E. W. PEERMUND. VI. 1. A range of mountains in Europe. 2. A country in Asia. 3. A town in Worcester. 4. A shire in England. 5. A river in Turkey. 6. A town in Devonshire. 7. A river in Europe. 8. A town in Yorkshire. 9. A mountain south of Europe. 10. A river in Africa. 11. A country in Europe. The initials read downwards will give the name of a tale in tho Boys of England. E. W. Peermund, VII. My first is a fish; my second is a doorway ; my whole is an art. В. в. VIII. DIAMOND PUZZLES. A consonant; a monkey; a country in the south-west of Europe; a Portuguese colony; a consonant. R. Beck. IX. A consonant; an animal; a German state; a large body cl water; a consonant. R. BEOK. ANSWERS TO CRACKERS, No. 157. I. Walter Raleigh. II. Redlaw, the Bushranger. III. ^oalbrookdale; coal, brook, dale. IV. Tom U'Reilly; "1. roll, yet, mole, toy, mote. V. Pennsylvania; Perm, £npieSf pennyf тап> v\mQt sea, Spain, Lisle, Vienna, Seine, л lie, eye. '' NOTICE TO OUR CONTRIBUTORS. To save contributors the trouble of writing respecting the non- insertion oj titeir puzzles, ш shall, in future, adopt the plan of naming the monih during which those under consideration were received. The following Itst of *♦ Accepted 1' and ** De- clined" arc those received during the months of JULY AND AUGUST, 1809. Accepted.—William F. Trinder and M. T. Sumner, George Day, C. P. Delcomyn, J. B. Woodcock, A. Palmer, E. T., R. Welbnrn, A. S. F.,D. M. Waldie, G. E. B. Talbot. Alfred Mortimer Hynes, J. Пите, E. W. Peermund, Chas. Caley, A. T. Crick, Alfred M. Hynes, A. bheldrick, W. J. Smith, W. E. Boycc, W. R. a, R. H. A, Edwin H. M. Evans, Carlisle Spedding Twining, Joseph Wrigley, Thomas Johnstone, Duke. Declined.—Princo Hal (yon must learn to spell before attempting puzzles ; " sorry," not " sowray," " following," not " towelling, " and many others as bad), Henry Stewart (of only personal interest), John Dutton (no answers), William Blakely, Thomas Searle (badly spelt), Wanonga the Commanche (rather too íar-fetched), W, H. King (try some other subjects; we have inserted several similar), Tom Davis M'Cord, John Edwards, Joseph Austin (fre- quently inserted; try something else), A. W. S. Gunn (should bo Hablo to heavy damages for breaking the jaws of our readers if we were to insert the puzzle on so tremendous a word), P. Laidman. Correct Solutions Received.—MacJohn Venning, Abel Gilbert, Edward Sully (No. 3 incorrect, see answers above), James С. T. Chatto, John Fleming. *»* All Communications to be addressed to the Editor, Mr. Edwin J. Beett, 173, Fleet Street, E.C. *»* We cannot, tinder any circumstances^ undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal. *** Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents in a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. *** Correspondents who wish to receive replies by post must in ail cases send stamped directed envelopes. J. Mason.—Maundy Thursday is of great antiquity. It is the Thursday preceda^ Easter ou which the kinç or queen distributes alms to a certain number of persons at Whitehall, so named from the "maunds," or baskets in which the gifts were formerly contained. It was also called Shore Tnursday, as read in the Festival of 1511, because anciently '* people would that day shore theyr hedes and clypp theyr berdes, and so make them honest agenst Easier day," J. H. Hammond.—(1.) Yes ; a boy wishing to enter the mer- chant service, especially such a one as the Peninsular and Oriental Company, must be able to pass an examination to lit him for so responsible a situation. The rule as regards those things is very much altered since the days of old. when almost any person could get a situation on board without the slightest knowledge of navigation. (2.) You will find what you want in the corresponding column of No. 46. Bookworm.—The British Museum was opened 1759, and has been a source of instruction and amusement to millions ever since. There is no establishment in the world like it. The several department* are almost perfect, and the read- ing room, which is the handsomest in the world, contains the most splendid library in existence, in every department of literature. A. M. G.—(1.) Your best plan will be to purchase all the back numbers, aud you will find some excellent school tules written, in addition to those you mention. (2.) Wo can give you no opinion, it being entirely a political question; регЬарз it' you could get a copy of Cobbctt's "liebster "you would oe able to judge something about it. (3.) Your handwriting is generally good. WEATHERCOCK.—The character of the winds is influenced by the condition of thesurfaces over which they blow. Winds blowing over dry and aria plains and deserts, are dry and hot; winds blowing across snow-capped mountains and reglón» of lee are cold; winds that cross oceans are wet, and those that cross extensive continents are dry. T. M. G. (lielfast).--Itisoutof our power to answer your questions in our columns, nor are we acquainted with any work upon "British Yarns." There is a work published upon the subject you speak of by Warne and Co., Bedford Street, Covent Garden. S. T.-Thomas Otway was a famous English dramatist, and was born at Trotten, in Sussex, 1651. "Venice Preserved" is Iiis only piece that keeps possession of the English stage. He died April 14th, i<585, and the account that he was starved has no foundation. Young Rechuit.— The Battle of Austcrlitz was fought on the 2nd of December, 1805. It was called the " Battle of the Three Emperor»," and cost the Austrian Emperor nearly 24,000 square miles, 2,780,000 subjects, and an income of nearly £1,300,000 sterling. It. Wilson.—Do not allow yourself to be put out of temper by your companions calling you little; tell them that some of the greatest men of the age past and present have been little in stature. It has nothing at all to do with the mind or the exercise of it. Some tall specimens of humanity are only fit for lamp-posts " without the light." A Young Architect.—(l.) We are sorry we cannot en- lighten you upon the subject. Wo should think that it will depend upon the agreement made at the time oí binding. (2.) The most likely place is Longman and Co's., Paternoster Bow. (3,) Michael Angelo. W. Jones—Mr. Faraday, the chemist, was born in 1791. He was an assistant to Sir Humphrey Davy. He was con- sidered to be the most accomplished and accurate ex- perimentalist of the day. He died August 23th, Ж7. C. J. В., &c.-(l.) We cannot forward you the information you require how to make Fharaoh's serpents. (2.) The number is 136, E. Phillips.—(l.) Yes, after a Aeree struggle and gallant resistance. (2.) Yes: anda very excellent one. (3.) We never heard of the place called Jamaiya. We willingly excuse what yon ask us todo. A Welsiiman.-(L) Yes; we think that the width of your chest will do, especially for your age and height. (2.) There is no place in the world good for emigrauts without capital. W. C. HowAB.D—The instructions respecting the forward- ing of the tickets have been repeatedly advertised and likewise answered in the corresponding column, and we must refer you to them. , AV. Smith.—The subscription is intended for a life-boat to be placed upon a station for the preservation of shipwrecked mariners. As soon as ever the funds are sufllcieut, the project will be carried out. F. FuANKLiN—We refer you to No. 46 of tho Bots of Eng- land Journal for the height and age of the several regi- ments you mention; you will find it fully explained there. , „ W. ItoBiNSON.-We have only the stage made for the plays we have published. The front, scenes, characters, &c, were all made to correspond with the stage made by our- selves. W. H. Matne.-We cannot insert your communication; it comes under the head of advertisements, and those we have made it a rule never to insert. A Poor Lad.—Powdered alum, dissolved in warm water, will not only cleanse tho teeth but render the gums hard, and to prevent them decaying. Fair Plat.-Your letter is quite unintelligible. Will you write again? IMPORTANT TO ALL OUR READERS! OUR GRAND CHRISTMAS NUMBER Will be published on MONDAY, DECEMBER 13th. The Extra Stories in it will surpass anything wo have yet produced. THE BEST WRITERS OF THE DAY, Regardless of expense, have been engaged, and amongst a mass of the most interesting literary and artistic matter will be found the following :— THE PHANTOM KNELb; or, tho Ghost of Wentworth Hall. THE HAUNTED TOWER OF Sib- VERLY: a True Ghost Story. WILL HE RETURN? or, the Strange Message. And A COMIC SKETCH, entitled, THE MINSTREL; or, What Came of Young Spoon's Courtship. In addition to the above, we shall publish an ORIGINAL DRAMA, FOR ПОМЕ ACTING, ENTITLED, THE SAILOR ROY'S RETURN. SPLENDID COVERS FOR BINDING VOL. VI. OP ТЙЕ "BOYS OF ENGLAND." Are Now Heady. Price Is. 3d. NOTICE TO THE NEWS TRADE. Mr. Edwin J. Brett's works arc published only at 173, Fleet Street. ALL BACK NUMBERS CAN BE HAD. THE CHRISTMAS NUMBER WILL ALSO CONTAIN THREE CONTINUOUS STORIES; PUZZLES; RIDDLES, me had too lofty trunks, some were too small, while others were without the necessary br&nchcs~tö help him to the higher parts. And so he advanced, utterly unaware of where he was going. Presently, however, lie saw what had some appearance of a rude path through the forest. At all events a narrow fissure between the trees and green wall of undergrowth appeared before him. It was very winding in Us character, and as he advanced had all tbe appearance of a complete labyrinth. Once or twice he fancied ho came back to a place he had seen before. This, however, he argued with himself, must be the effect of imagination. Taking particular notice, however, as he pro- gressed, he endeavoured in the gloom to study the locality. Suddenly he found himself in a small clearing, overshadowed by one huge and widely-spreading tree. There was apparently no further path to be seen. Ned suddenly paused, and listened with all his ears. He certainly heard a footstep—a foot- step close at hand. He drew himself up in the darkest corner of the open space, and again waited. Silence again. He was, however, sure of not having been mistaken. Whether human being or beast of the forest Ned could not make out, but something living he had heard. Again, His heart throbbing wildly, he clutched his gun and waited. A slow, cautious, stealthy footstep was de- cidedly approaching. The deadly weapon was cooked ready for use, and then a figure stepped forth into the open space before the tree. It was human, and that was all Ned could make out, though rather dwarfish. The form was concealed by a rough costume; such as was worn by some of the Indian women —a tunic, and loose trousers, and plaited reed hat. At all events, he, Ned Summers, fancied he had nothing to fear, and stepped out into the clearing. The creature, whatever or whoever it was, gave a startled, unintelligible cry, and bounded wildly into the thicket. At the same moment a rush of other footsteps was heard, and poor, hunted Ned, taking the way by which the strange apparition had fled, found himself again in a thick and almost im- passable forest. The footsteps then ceased as if by magic, ançl Ned Summers knew that the спешу were listen- ing keenly. He determined, therefore, to be as cunning as themselves, and stepped onwards slowly and deliberately. It was a terrible and almost .fatal dilemma; but life is dear, and Ned Summers knew that nothing but patience and the most consummate art could save him from his inveterate and savage enemies. • They appeared on this occasion, however, very SAMUM 1, 1870.J 35 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "вооп to give up the chase, for as he got further aad further into the gloomy wood, all signs of them ceased. At length Nature asserted its rights, and find- ing a large and comfortable tree, and securing himself as best he might, the hunted youth prepared to sleep. lie was, as it happened, fortunate enough to find repose, and, despite his desperate situation, slept until dawn without being disturbed by ttian or beast. CHAPTER IX. A WONDERFUL ESCAPE. Ned Summers awoke, the wood was "When «tili. Nothing was to be heard but the pleasant song 'Of the myriad song birds, the wild shrill cries of the little green parrots, and the thousand strange and shrill sounds which lili the forest in uninhabited places. The tree into which he had climbed was of •enormous size. He was secreted in the lower and more leafy branches. Clambering upward, he never stopped until he was high up as the branches would bear him. He now had a splendid view. The sea spread itself like a mirror before him •at no great distance. To the right was a green hill, one mass of vegetation. To the left was the river where Ned Summers had already passed through so many dangerous adventures. Below was the leafy and undulating green forest. All this, however, told him nothing, and he «lowly descended. Unfortunately, man is so constituted that the having a tolerable supper over night in no way 'Compensates for the want of a breakfast in the morning. Ned Summers was hungry again, and, as it happened, very hungiy.' He reflected with grim doubt on the chances of ^ breakfast. But the island where the roast pheasants and pigs run about crying " Come eat me," remains yet to be discovered. At all events, which was just the same, it was unknown to our hero. He reached the lowest bough, and, before he alighted, took a keen survey around. He could neither see nor hear anything to create doubt or alarm. After some hesitation he glided to the ground, and stood erect on the award below. Still no sign. He could now make out no path ; not fhe re motest trail to guide him. He must advance, therefore, completely at hap hazard. Taking advantage of a tree at some distance, which gave him a vista to guide him, he ad- vanced in a straight line. In a forest this is a good plan. Fix your eyes on a tree, and never leave it until you reach it. Then, with your back to this tree, fix your eyes on another, and, in all probability, the person lost in the woods will go in a tolerably straight line. Ned tried it, and never once swerved from his course. In this way he got to the edge of the wood, where a few sweet acorns assuaged the first rage of furious hunger. "Was this to last for ever?" was his sad aud лусагу reflection while munching his frugal re- past. Whije he was still eating, he heard a loud ■and triumphant cry, and saw Samuel Petworth, nearly naked, distinguishable only from the ■savages by his whiter skin, come rushing in his direction. The others were at no great distance behind the wretched young midshipman. He had no cIiaíco left but to re-enter the %v«Qd and strive to conceal himself within its Sbomy and dark haunts. He was becoming strangely savage. What had he done that he should be hunted thus, and by one, too, whom he had never in- , ...cd/ It was really enough to make him murderously inclined. Samuel Petworth, as he expected, had tried to curry favour with the Indians by betraying him. He had perseveringly dogged his footsteps, and at last succeeded, somehow, in discovering his retreat. After this he returned to the lair of the savages. He was, to a certain extent, quite free, but would not escape. He had neither the courage of Ned Summers nor waá he armed, while his own evil nature prevented him from having any belief in the generosity of others. Had he have trusted Ned Summers, all might, perhaps, have been well for both of them. But this he could not make up his mind to do. So he sat down upon the bank until the dis- comfited Indians returned from their abortive chase. His being at liberty amazed them much. At first they were disposed to be aggressive, but, after a time, they thought better of it. Samuel clearly made signs that he was ready to guide them to the hiding-place of the being that had stolen the canoe and freed himself. This satisfied the savages, and, for the time, they were kind,^even jocular. They presently, in high good humour, dressed him up like one of themselves. In this guise he accompanied them, and was present when our young hero shot and wounded the giant savage. The huge Indian, however, was not killed upon this occasion, but he was unable to go any further, and remained, then;fore, with the boat. The rest, without troubling themselves to clamber to the top of the beam, took a way well known to them, by which to circumvent the fugitive and waylay him as he advanced. He was, however, too quick for them, and though a kind of instinct guided them in the right direction, they could not capture him that night. How he escaped they could not even attempt to imagine. They simply took up their post under trees and slept until morn. As soon as they had risen and partaken of a frugal breakfast, they again started in chase of the much-coveted white man. Samuel was fortunate enough to be the first to see him, which raised him much in the estima- tion of the savage people. They at once distributed themselves over the wood, which was by no means of large extent, and determined to examine it, even tree by tree, until they found him. Samuel Petworth, who had every reason to fear Ned Summers more than anybody, kept alongside a tall and powerful Iudian. He himself was wholly unarmed. His gun had been taken from him, and lay in the bottom of Ned Summers creeping low and carefully behind some bushes. The Indians followed the direction of his hand, aud, though they could see nothing, made a rush. Samuel was compelled to follow them. He was sure it was Ned, but if tlm Indians did not find him, they might think it a mere trick to deceive them. Yes, there he was. running down another slope towards a still narrower part of the river. He bounded vigorously and desperately the moment he knew himself discovered. What could be his hope?' No one could say. However that may be, he continued hie* course until he reached the banks, when he turned round and presented his loaded weapon at his foes. All stopped their headlong course, Samuel Petworth the first, he, in factr cowering abjectly behind the others. Then Ned, with a loud cry of triumph, dis- appeared. Away bounded the pursuers, satisfied that he had leaped into the river. They soon, however, found themselves com- pletely mistaken. A large trunk of a tree had fallen over the river, and just touched the other side, which served Ned as a bridge. He was only about half across when the whole party came up. But how was this? A black-looking savage animal preceded hira on the tree. Ned reached the other side, and again turned. The Indians, after the first check caused by surprise, swarmed on the trunk, eager to follow in his track. Ned Summers laughed aloud, stooped, and exerting his utmost strength, hurled trunk, Indians, and all into the yawning abyt>s below. Then, with a loud and hopeful cry, he lied once more, without waiting to see-what steps would be taken by those who were hunting him even unto death. ^4 CHAPTER X. (\ A FOUR-FOOTED FRIEND. \„ Whisk Ned Summers made his last desperate dash into the dark and gloomy wood in hik endeavour to escape from the savages at any price, he ran for some time with utiabated vigour. Flight was his only chance, and yet, with so many ь> hunt him up, what chance* had he of ultimate escape? Г nies» something almost miraculous occurred he mu>i be taken. Still ho was determined never to give in while lite lasted. As these thoughts passed rapidly taiough his mind, he was suddenly startled by a strange and wholly unexpected sound close at hand. He halted and looked round just as a hrej;e came leaping forth from the of one of the canoes. But though they made a regular battue of the black animal wood, and peered under every bush, and shot ¡ bushes, arrows up trees, aud examined every hole and \ He instantly levelled his gun and took steady corner, they made no discovery. , aim at the brute. Ned seemed to have escaped in some strange ¡ It still advanced, however, and, just, as lie was aud mysterious manner. ;about to fire, he recognised a largo Now- The discomfited Indians at last collected to- } foundland dog, with a brass collar round hi: gether and consulted. They were evidently very far from being in a good "humour, and Samuel Petworth thought once or twice that they cast rather strange glanccij at himself. He was in a state of no slight perturbation, for, as he well knew, the temper of savages is very uneven. Should they not find thomuch-covcted captive, they might turn round aud vent their spite and rage upon him. Sam's teeth began to chatter, and he looked round for some loophole of escape from the wrath and fury of the savages. As ho did so, his face brightened up, and he gave a kind of view-halloo. At a considerable distance he had caught sight throat. The animal's manner was rather suspicions than unfriendly. Suddenly, as the youth removed his guw from the charge, it halted close to Ned, and smelt him all round. Ned did not move, but spoke kindly to the animal, which, as if satisfied with the inspection, gave a low growl, and, turning round, appeared to wish to lead him in a direction opposite to that whonce his enemies were coming. What could this mean 1 No harm any way; for, doubtless, this noble animal was owned by some castaway belonging, at all'events, to a civilized nation. ТЦе.dog, once aware that the other partially understood him, trotted on at a goo 1 paeer Ътщт£ him directly tu the bridge which, by a! Л» he ^{жАп ha opened a wattled door separa- hdd üb'! ib , albo 'mpu ho, N<-d had ¿ub- . tín£ ahnUuw in the пн-к fmm 13 * * * room, »Г|Ц<ч.Ну ea:o ív,u,i too wat «т. ;S"vada wbh */iao roar<«» iloknaw, in wover, î hat ti».* was but a repite, i гаког*. wort* then brought tortrt wild a gourd of ал \\tn-" da: ',,«"-, íooooos would fiad a way !<*» . water. er> wlidt th-\ wr • o»'*,;r kwAs n ;>» }.o ve np a - "V'.a mi^t Ц) b не/гуГ :*aid th" «t ran "'ir ; ** if trail ОПОС they Were, о a tilt: ,<СОП{, * S>, eat ;it oner." lh% howv-r, for í.he present, innted wholly j X«*d was ia-t îik"by to гоЬы\ d-brr: indeed to îhi; d-yy \\ lech ti»*,к bbn bowio'd now at . tdioriy fa mi and enhanced, a m*-''» Ua.-a:"' «,y janv, nao4 /о.,- fH>a# tif the) While he was »'aimt?, the came patent«; in tj!'f!\nnî, !and lay at i la1; г feci. Who or whvJ wu4 be Mi».\vi:',s Thifr, of course, v.'a« i«« ho» и lit) >?ery, ¡ июа-'Ь, The dojr, nicauwhi!^, k»vpr >trak:dt on, rseithrr; "How - h;U, a.a ;ü la- reached , her", ^tkl омпнпшпе* Ьн meal, a^mad, but «ies^o thicket, • 4t Ycai know ladbony of the imvi/Tif* of thl* Oafelimj; oint «dance at, Ned, the intelligent : placa ч>> yet.' opih-b the oilier, \vb h a .smile. animai darted aadd. k«4a'd ua**a,-y» ;,ad îla-a -f r-м¡-f ♦ЧЬ'ьгу tV" b-ind." and d¡.^ü»i«'d ail ш-lí at ike íotii ai a*|icrpüiidicuiar ci ill*, in a. kind ! spoke in a U.¡\v Uhu«. * . the idkauk aiad "miuktcrs u{ her Ute huiband Of bfd»% npf-ar- aïîy wíflu.ai any cîM h-f, ¡ ** Vn\ir frn-mi^s have f'»Uowi;d у<Д1. But they , that i raw rri:w.-d iat tin* n«'W king. Tla«di.:,; ,4.",; i MÜS, wa^;d?:;f bis ta.i und k?uk- wiiî .-r.-ur« íy ünd ht vvid. on, *' if \h"y :,<, Ю МП' A-Mi.vT Of »♦ ГЛ.ч'Г AN!» 1*»ЯМ-,ЧТ/* &«П. &f. h"; •^-f-TOb'lS X!Ik, win- a-aand-Ч Use .^V*"'' I С Л'. Н-.д moihor, Mark- do at <'-îtf' in) ; u , !Lh / Haas lia' oá '\ vd.ad; adoaaOnhad î*rîoaiîa:d ' tanf a-ns. <1 *.îÍ* ni. tîoaa a ' / : ha riyko and 1и*а;ао a ■•■-n-k; |-d-г,чп l^a ! party: i-ni H di l:vdd,M- of n.p-, ;„ ! ,и.<Л. Как rnpunv,! . . )av;d;!i*aí bao i-¡a¡:ib<4Vd i wiid udkn • ,.\urin ;,..,ч1 ai i Vv ,.mo.-«í i- d аа-Ш >aif-!nnv ''•aa (>t ais v< an, f!' : do n* dk; 'I i.,' -ara aran.—d :h.- îk a a , i,.-' a iOadv-' aro lio; .-ano a; • к y h s ai i i" way a:p a ídd," -''"i" ^d" ar-urah and tinada, ''d ) ai o h a'a»aiî í:,> , а/, ,a- i, î \aa*ad к,v, ¡ а ; • • 'г"'а,а. jndp«", habOí-d Oí a i a-aa had '.íivni liana la; ^!íp, 'd d ¡ "h dy >!', aaf ta' i 'пап каш- ' by She way kev in¡d r< nsoa in..'...an !a,, ad'-VM'd knn h,' * TIm: } * ak,, w, tailed t !,.■•:] •s. ."рак;, iiandxaia/ and 11 ; n 5 ka-n^tniaad !id' ^:a' hal I \ !'T к U X к Idaho h, unis о, î kr a\ n loan оар^^аг-а - , Л ,u.,-(.r О; . ,, v ; ,а:а .„„.!,..; t-.f.twv-.-.s m. 3 -a;;li -'"-»as ■■, ;í;,,''•■( , tb-' aval' ns«í,s v-, 'л!" ta -' bond vor- Kiiraaandad by а к'.папак hat id* n.*ad: and ad. Íf0 "i In hk ;naaas -лга>* akydt. in--ink dr./Пblad^nrroib-d" 'an. a;-, "oeil Ь ad o. ímíp, nial fra>,5 hb * к1--huí¡> 'Падцу 'IdOOîNT ".y ¡idla void h dn.-J-naknd hd ** \ a.ra a,"" o;dy íaniayay^, n !oí ¡ .' '' inak ' hnd U'.;n «aî iaara- i', a kn-* 1» rr р-тчтауп, IntU* iïnnr:îy, nak'ktrai b>r parpow -a ,,{" ,»dun,dû>io (Mthhly, ^ 'Л 0 aùnî' >Uk-:u msaaa i'ainyda': îOVay tba by, 1 _ la knO *4 Wd-do (me •'. ••• ' «d ma, î a frii'ftd с o Oiñ ^ • niu-i Ulk »пмппа,г ihn ,a¡i)i- aî 1Па-' da;.ortad pía»'- г- :ак nvarv dayk гор!i--Я nar'n tin.' >h-¿ i-vory Hami'od tkraad; V-''ГГ nra'T kiP'W lind, >1П' 'А *• laî nia. Iks! ;aand; vas; ho' ynir kínadra'-a-d' 'h u Va'i ara t!, • a: ka < k.-oa,¡, .-ч-н-а:, aay'npîaa; ka> a ;Vl, a. • 0 » » addrid.> a kaq N- d, kd-- ad wn-> - -u!d dad ;ч-- n ín O !," b,"k diento 'IÎO Wdí ka San'.» bkaatkk" aaid illa н1ггоаО'Г, *' aaíva nk-kad woinar; Mnrh* a'a Mr.daií íaib-d t'na krota-o:oa,l re- inib'd к,: i Mir ко- oia.r t bo. а-ап.чч! of being ^uo!.y of any n-: of raurby to war« i ч ^thera, '■vai- ayadîan í nain, ,.î db-plnvcai ion* h boko to the d 4,1 ; ilnon and n-, 'o,-;d' ion fan- a>, ora-, at für«: ,-ob:ad ara í k.oo-nn mío î la1 karr d '» 'ka ма1 rr, al iad. aa ( s,m-nmant at ога-а í<:uis<--1 tho «din pora-, a nk!;d,o np arrn a¡a-o m«íí'*n S t'a- warwj^f n-"A-od. bnl ^nddanîv an.dod i Hîndniti yd:t Oí: •. ¡no.addi».*, fat nia irir-dn-ayo lia' ¡anoana, ho-wr-v-r, had a- bann ]»г«.рпом5! >b^< ,i ni Ma.-laO b AnaîV? vdrar. Oa)k pana: ta my'fiii'troN * í di na»- ,,f :,o.«id"af>. * _ in î Г;fa Way — К«:«1 Ьн>\ «aî .a- inüHiü.,.,! at a «nall ?4orlad" Ti;n boy, Ьн ^а.ю г,ч)«,,п whioli bo did r,«i га-" Tlkn^ man and Ы< wifo ïiad r.,asdorad tbom- •vï wattiod Ымо/h.» and ,dak«»H, piain, and whioh v.dk yyo'tr at a futur»- iim*4 r-a!v.-i s», odkaos ids oonarai, and particularly l<> Паз Ktrano«1 \ auik. ,-fn.|>|Hid wbhijp mid intvo- : w»> bakaw in hi* Siat.'Too-ni whan Ihn hr-t p;a-> ■ t!t»-, you n y i, idi^,» that la- п-adtiy ü-dortrd t<» Iba ducedbiai tu a mandl. but neat chamber. I .onordar entered the long-boat, i advino riab/OVOUrtbi r* -val si,4. _ ^ v/ак ян ¡ii ;dt*:vsvur>i< o<>. <=го<а* oí tho Padoanaaof. oí . ï br (ííí''«'I: Ja< a i;< г *л а,ч ^?ssv tía hím (m tía- Iiis vbb Ьд-а'Ьч! by banibdab Wiivn iba к 12.ir oeurb 'Лпсп\ ho mv\ to Vitry—14 I thank von píi '(4s'/!h i ooi r^aby г; Ian- Г* Il was not k-ng ЬеСигу JLuub» ХШ, ^Oïî^Lt a ívooivb biikn with Ж<Л.Ыт# «uui siic«M*<4i<ч!, biro/oos 1и<1 <í(.!. *»£ ;m ес/'к>аы.;о vrfo* is iamuuv in hidbay it-, t h«- dVdínal bíohda*u. Wh«-u 1 î s* ' V ííü'í, tï.'* kíií-r yaby oladm-d~*• Sow tuíu !havtt yon. у ou ••"«la Л 110 ЮиГО < >:¡'UJ><1 bolO 00' !** aod < lu* {; í¡<:«-n raddd, "Ab ! y ai vdíí ?* oí. anv<> íuiícIí db'iaadhy ío 1.' < f 'iír/ üh; a dd>íH;e¡a b>f I ЮГО í i',;,' 1 daid always 1н: weil treated )-y R> i'-ой о МД1 Oí? y¡Mí i n ab id-a davi Он O ¡¡i { ilî;({ sms '•• 4*\\ ОЧНПчЬЬ' oad Muri«- d- акоаа Л;::,'::; у h>r <.v< r. tí;- d v',• ;4J; Al'ííT ?b<; I oí Í!''*T)í*'Lt ;■< d'fdaobs, aab th,vl (íf ib« V;«-i,'-'j: »o fdüü, is! fob rroi ШсЫй.-п, in fact, obtain •:r,,nt a rc p.,?,-,! îo:î b -t; Vnd a warriur» tloti b o-ob !Osy of tb<* ¡;iO»íL?, ooJ t In- iHbd^ oibv bn.ib îbr. Bub.« «■ î' !»■;. it was speedily pi <1н1о- dîb !m ib/' '•J'^'^-rHii-ib «d 'л ib. ô n In ïiiako war î í'krd I4*raío,:o oïi í bo t ; a -, aï.o, o^ bí/uis íijjr» at war Willi taia 1 w<> iiriïiirs ïo ,'b" \''Y\:llÓi, huV,'- \ Mb bird in tlie iioa.-b Uiiriy-ibrcc л* oa by hîF v.ilbs 'ía-ayb!od w:us X ill. waw a <Пч- н-í' . í^r in it ibe ! am oiomii n« dyi'Oa,-. Jib ti tondes y f ïtaraoo! o< l^rnio''. biir- i4 L*ab- Л i П. wa.\ tio.KÍ» ( 'brbihai Ib''d. Ь « "a < • a t aw great at- rabov M.a iv'd ui'ooao«' da- ".Âcacieeîe с - \x es ib< ii i '-11 tut ion, and î a 11 у и a ;o • iba i» refinement «an nbuo'b Im ¡onbíí r il. а aaaa.a'ai \ * bîi'b: aî <ч.?11\ a: ob ooî tjircatibi- i-oî Eur<<¡.<>. ÍAdils üiwüVK bb,-bkab Iboia-'btai î bai» ;b îbi" wíit.r liibf aiba.Sibrí''b í¡a.,«:-t lia» «ady í«. j.o , bo-v *'íd-n>. db¡: i-.M'biíbil ',v;i.s f-arcb *ч?йЯ|1у by da.í da« 'V,ü!'. i i 1 -.o î d' d, - ¡ :\í, ndaas bo \ l-.i.'ii bar;% os da * ,a- î Г 1 7, a^'da.' « b" „oaoai íaota--'ib-aîa tke; M i»c dUit j 1 * s tit : f м > f and 33<»-«^ Hi-iu. îji de U.rUf prüf^ion ;t;n bci'< Oib, r-viih-d Ьа^.ь!!л \v!.<» ы; шиИ, j-ay «íiy HftdbiT. Jb..i ц whal dt-firm oi;«a г:,!; mí .b>M:^ ii» ib/ni d Ьь , < <"b." do К (i'dnotl lirir—Xi/ da- dbiyaari. WüA'f piece of carpentrr becomes a jrem м. . "•>"; ;s ■ ,a j iba, b' b? 'Л-ra t.-, 11 Woí í.i>\'r ус hi füll ibid' ti!" <\a)f of rbe Í-'O '/ "dt'd.vd .biba. a««!ti?,!ii:o to ca,** of Ььн a^rbar limb". ** N«b' rapiiab Ibit, 4i 1 dn.uM ;.;iy ii was lb,. - Ь>д a rali/' li ÏK i'orka ibo naai-of th^ rmnl. ;iioo«n<: о» г;/,ч|н.гп- tbf ri4»s\4 ícr<-4íí»l the bar. » X- rbomtd: •* ЛЬ yv thai i.-n't ;.a/» üa- ho>>" «abaat-b it,, <,ju' ill ajdib Г arli.'vl odd f-W b. 1н-,чЬа to hb coiiyoiia... d< îbf %-< -ï v-idi it wn" our r^bor»i-hco=e a" A. an aksi V /d;i:d :a* ♦«íoaíHHi in d^abî:'-, ' a Ь<* ai" p,.d drain, and had gone away forgetting to put up* alight to warn anybody ; as it was out of the- main road some two or three feet they thought no one could wander near it. For a time Jack Pepper lay partially stunned, then rising, or trying to do so, he found that his left arm was broken. "I have done it now," he groaned, while the sweat rolled down his face in large drops. "If I am found here, and with the watch upon^ me, it's all up. Jack Pepper will be boxed up." He sat up for a moment, and passed his right- hand about the hole as far as he could reach. "What's this, a ladder? The infernal men have left it here, and by that means I think I can get up out of this hole." He rose and placed his hand upon the ladder,, and, in spite of the agony he endured, succeeded, in getting to the top, and, by dint of groping about, he once more gained the high road. "I am all right'now for home." And, so saying, he buttoned his coat up, and,. placing his useless arm in it for a sling, started off at a good pace, but taking care, as much as he could, to avoid observation. ****** It would be almost impossible to define the ■ feelings that raged in the bosom of Luke Craft when the words "Your secret is safe with me," issued from the lips of Bob Ready. Rage, shame, hate, agony, and fright alter- nately took possession of him as he rushed up • the lane. Then he stopped an instant, for he heard the heavy galloping of a horse coming rapidly along. Alarmed at this, he sprang off the road into- the hedge, clinging to ir by his hand, regardless- of the lacerations ir inflicted upon him. , Scarcely had he done so, when the mountedi JANüAUT 1, 1870.] 39 BOYS OF ENGLAND. patrol, with his clanking sword, dashed past him. Luke listened for a moment until the noise of the horse s feci, was lost in the distance, and then he scrambled into the road again. He started off again, spite of the pain he felt in his face and hands, and kept going rapidly on until he came into a road but very dimly lighted, and not the same one that he had gone along when he went out on his "bit of fun." He stood upon the path, looking right and left, for he was uncertain which way to take. While hesitating he heard footsteps approach- ing; and, looking, saw a labouring man. Luke at once walked boldly up to him. "Am I going right for Kcnnington church?" he asked. "Yes, my lad. Keep straight on, and walk fast, and you will soon reach it," said the man, as he went on his way. Away went Luke, but, walk as fast as he could, it was an hour before he reached it. At last, wearied and worn out, and so alarmed at thinking at what had taken place, he gained his home. The door was opened almost before he knocked, for his mother had been anxiously waiting his arrival, and, hearing Iiis foot upon the step, had gone at once to let him in. The instant she saw him, she uttered a loud scream, and nearly fell to the ground. The face and hands of the lad—the son she loved so much—were lacerated and bleeding, his clothes torn and muddy, and his whole appear- ance was that of one who had been engaged in some deadly conflict. ** Luke 1 Luke Î what is all this?" she said, as she sank into a chair. "I went a little way into the country for a walk, missed my way, and, getting out of the road in the dark, foil into a hedge, that's all. It's lucky it is no ivorae*' "Thank God it is no worse/' said the widow, and Luke went to his rest. But all night long dreams and phantoms of chains and prison haunted his imagination, and, more than once, he started up under the impression that the officers of justice stood at his bedside, and bade him rise. Such is the punishment of the person who once takes a false step from the path of honesty and industry. The next morning brought with it the whole and true account of the burglary and robbery committed by a band of boys, masked and armed. The news, of course, rapidly spread, and was the talk of half London, but in no part was it more the topic of conversation and alarm than in the neighbourhood where it occurred. In the factory the men did nothing but speak of it, and of course a thousand and one speculations were hazarded as to who were the boys. It was said that the police were on their track and that they would soon be in custody, but the police had not the blightest track or trace of them. It was perhaps fortunate that the man whom Luke accosted was on the tramp, and was a great many miles away from the spot. He had noticed by the dim light of the lamp that Luke's face had been in trouble, "That young 'цп lias been in a scrimmage, and don't ^appear to have had much the best of it," he said, as he walked rapidly away. As for Bob, he kept his counsel and the secret, remembering the old saying that "no secret is so well kept as when you keep it yourself." But there were one or two little things that tried Bob hard. "Bicycle Bob," so said the journals, "had pursued more than one of them; that they had! threatened him with instant death, suddenly I presenting revolvers al Um; and that when,! overawed by numbers, he had turned and fled, ) they fired after him and shot—the bicycle." Then Polly Warner, with her keen, bright eyes j and knowing little head, had some ideas of her j own upon the matter. , The business of the factory was almost at a 1 stand-still, in consequence of the visits of the | police, and in order to mnove all doubts respect- j ing the "bicycle," it was pulled out and under- went a rigid examination. Then a number of persons came to sec the "hero of the bicycle," and to congratulate him upon his courage and narrow escape. At all this Bob laughed, and seemed to enjoy the joke amazingly. In the afternoon all the parties mentioned in the first part of this narrative met, as usual, in the little counting-house. Bob to make up the books. John Stout to sec how stock went, and what orders were booked, Mes. Stout and Polly were seated by the stove, ! the former making out a list of .things wanted at the cottage, while the latter, pretending to read the newspaper, had her mischievous eyes fixed upon Bob. I "Of all the obstinate tempers in this world, that boy is one," she muttered to herself, «' and I begin to hate him," but she didn't take her eyes off him for all that. "He says I am always teasing him about Luke Craft, am I? Then I'll tease him a trifle more." She took up the paper again, and then sud- denly placed it down. '* Uncle," she said, but looking all the time at , Bob, " whatever has become of Luke Craft?" I At the mention of his name Bob turned so j suddenly upon his stool as almost to bring him ¡ to the ground, while old Stout hid his face in the book; even at the mention of his name, the old lady looked up through her spectacles. !"Why, bless me, what can all this mean?" [asked Polly. "Why, Mister Ready, you look as if the police had come to take you away ; not on the bicycle, oh, dear, no ; they don't do it in that way on the charge of" "What charge, eh, Miss Warner?" said Boh, having recovered the surprise he felt when the I name was first mentioned, and smiling. *' Oh, I don't know. 'Praps you murdered the poor fellow and buried him under one of the anvils; nothing is impossible in these awful times." "Why, Polly, ray girl," said old Stout, "I "I beg your pardon, uncle, it's no answer to my question. Perhaps, Mister Bob Bicycle, ha I ha Î what a name 1" «' It's a uamc, Polly, that has managed to keep the roof over our heads, and kept it water-tight, and" Here Old Stout got into a rage, and out of breath. "Water-tight, eh 1 I am glad to hear that," said Polly, "for when it rained the water came in fast enough ; but as I was saying" What Polly was about to say was prevented by the entrance of Mrs. Craft. The appearance of the poor mother seemed to strike every one with surprise, especially Bob Ready, who inwardly feared that something had happened to Luke, or that he had fallen into the hands of the police. The wan and pallid expression of the poor woman's face plainly told them that something serious had happened. "Why, what m the name of wonder, has hap- pened, Mrs. Craft?" said Mrs. Stout. The person so addressed made no answer, till she had carefully shut the door. "I am very unhappy in my mind respecting my son Luke," was the reply. "Indeed, what has happened now?" said John Stout, casting a side glance at Bob. "Well, I can hardly tell,but I have great fears that he got into some serious scrape last night." "Last night!" said Polly, 14 why it was last night that the burglary took place at the house just at the end of our lane. Why, Bob knows all about it." "I—I know very little respecting it,J) replied Bob, still going on with his writing in the books. "Why, you rode up at the time the alarm was given upon your bicycle, and must have seen all about it ; you know you did." Polly was rather nettled at Bob's having con- tradicted lier, and felt determined to sift the matter to the very bottom. "But what has the burglary got to do with Luke ?" said Stout. "God forbid that it should have anything to do with him, but still I have great fear that something more than common happened to him last night. The report is that the burglary was со mm i ted by six boys, masked; the ladies have already sworn to it." "Well, there are more boys than yours, Mrs. Craft." "Yes, but then Luke came home more than ordinary late, more dead than alive, his hands and face scratched and wounded, his clothes covered with mud, and he is so ill to-day that he keeps his bed. All these things render me very unhappy. Did you see anything of them?" and she placed her hand upon Bob's arm. Before Bob could well reply, the door was opened, and an inspector of police in plain clothes entered the counting-house. The appearance of this gentleman had a very powerful, effect upon the nerves of all assembled, but upon none more than Mrs. Craft. "I have called," he said, "for the purpose of asking you a few questions about the burglary up theXine," and he laid his hat upon the desk. "It is of no use asking me, sir. I don't know anything about it," said Polly, "I was just getting the supper ready, and" "I don't suppose for one moment that you had any hand in the burglary, miss," said the de- tective, with a smile ; "my visit here is to ask a few questions of this lad. Bicycle Bob, I think, is your name?" "As if any parson would Christen any human being by such a name as that," said Polly, tossing up her head. "Hold your tongue, Polly," said Mr. Stout, "it's a name he has been called because he made MI am aware of all that, Mr. Stout," said the officer, "and, from what I have heard, he full well deserves the name. I have only a question or two to ask him. There is little, douljt that in the daring attempt made last night, the rushing in of the masked boys was but a pretext or' a cloak under which the real burglars carried on their plans ; but still, the boys are considered as equally guilty. Did you see any of them ?** and the inspector fixed his eye steadily upon Bob. Now, if there was one thing that Bob prided himself upon, it was his love of truth. For a moment or so the struggle was great; but mercy for the poor misguided lad overcame every other feelings "No; they had gone off when I rode up, and I should have imagined they escaped up the lane by the back," was the reply. "That is what we all imagine, because we picked up some of the masks, and the cap of one." It was lucky that Luke's mother, at the entrance of the officer, had sat herself down by the fire-place, and was, therefore, some distance from the man. She trembled so from head to foot at this admission of the officer, and her agitation was so great, that it must have drawn his attention to her. Polly, seeing this, with great tact and readi- ness, stood up before her, so as to shield her from the lynx eyes of the officer. Luke had returned home without his cap; in the struggle with Bob it had fallen off, and the boy was too anxious to make his escapclto stop and endeavour to recover it. "I have some hopes of finding the owner of it, for luckily the name of the maker is inside of it. So boldly was the burglary planned and carried out, that the authorities have offered a reward for the apprehension of any of them; and so, my lad, keep a sharp look-out, and only get some information respecting them, and you will be a handsome gainer by it ; good day." And with that the officer took his depar- ture. There was a dead silence in the little room for at least five minutes after he had left. At last Polly broke the silence, "Well, upon my word, one would think that we had stumbled" upon a quakers* meeting or a deaf and dumb society. And here's Mrs. Craft has thought fit to faint ; run for some water and vinegar, iVr. Ready." "Yes, miss." •пи-: v\:î&\:\w rax h\;ivtl\ ; ыт a i л. in vain í г >' ,, a; a :bjv \, • <" ja-' íar ;. ta«ar :u¡í;-. baúl íli" iH'St urinent Hub was out oí the ¡ ait" Li*1,-, fr-; í f ï ; *1 a ..-;«♦ Ua-u ' jV krq - ' a íab-bí / « .4 \' Ьр/\ч «w»ft калчкаг шлл1 «,v>iïitîlUf-nottK'\ Н.О£Г dNnpubdaC ?:-rl fy bad or.fadr-d rrv-ü hîîTî. í n^arhr fha Vivbi':*;*,, la ur : ' Ibón íl, win w!ds- H \\ ,'f¡ 1(>i ■ tnjc ; i', и,' l ч )!' -,'oïiri!!, ul'íTV.V d' !'<•«' Un* ^aíVly oí" ii'T snïi, ruul íb'-lha; now mor-i; "*"* <*« uaíu tíiuí ho was by к«»т<: nu-aus m.xcd ai» in ¡ /4J 4 ,,T|,{, r Ik-attack ui».n Iba калаа k;id b,..:í.jrr. Ьма^: <-HA i-I Mí v* 'к< bible, I 1>ЛИК ni:YVi..VïhjS«. î t' oí' Лч. kV ov. î.paU..»! *v. m-d to b<\ IIS w< It Wîirt ноши Um» ЬКог<* tb»» «.avariions* "f ík> Wu hav«'î bvfoîv Hk'bUy :н<îi<4»*i íTí*; bon*; ' ka\a. wt«k b tf"!..bu»; uva" < Uhî docr-pu.^, Ьюк kuAbho arUid byiupaib.i.-'-'t4 «:vuld rectore li^iuai . л*'.-.ш;1са by ubi ,|;ui* IVpper, ;aid ш wbíuk . Ьа, uUut к:ш. ала *л ..iaiiuL'. n'k"ïi iba! Wíb d'>ia\ vbf w»-pf Hud wtuí.t кл' Л.' '*a;ri. I *.ù tk- << : •»;*,; Л/ baiba-'-л -Л' ] » Л - ;■ tk' а а.Ь, ?, н t'»»- bärdnry <4d Л;;«'к wv binds bitterly. !!.4.ir aad old d d--íd- • Wiad и»! I t" d-l^^ad '.''-rv-d '.'*г Л-:' n î-.m-' b'; ) Old Sí out k)« k-d al Ikd> ая íí b,t Ibr.ud.f Uiaî :waîb'. • m.yii.it.í.' ;d^^ f';r itiv:;^ l nV ; u k;(v !;ягг» ¿ad coaM :.."ît îb-u> «ч- ,. Aí.-iv U';íí:i и..»'.- tbr bad pabï vksls f.> a- d/4 í.-.ы.' H*;iijjv!"d n ы íí:- binrn.iv. H'íIhí dalrnmliv/ * лки)Ла^% b.'í n.Ahh.'j '-.ЛЛ }/«-iu4ud to nji # И |Ь<- j.k^v ^ > , . f -The bent Wavwíll b«« fi-r.wüi ío k,-q» Lukr , l ¡u: sH-id^f a, alí-'t Ыш. 1 Ь' ^л!?ьг лу;п, P;n^l ^nra-vba, aibima. iVr.a üiíjk i;nti: the aîîair bk>w.« .ачт,'1 '' ТЛ-ü, in п|п-агап.'-% l«c w;b totally .if/T- f«J:t . ih>-r*' was a ü-r-v tin- burner bHin' irmbs ВЛ?, 'u,iU îb-v.*ry , «•»;!;««•'.. ,:, 1-л,< »a ?a- î^a-Ks t^-.ia-' .twi;, tua faca 'i'^v- ал <ц<\ч a---?*, «a t ha hîîh-I" îiaatlar, Ha» iat î i «ï kr.uW tb;> rntir!;, Мгл r-4fit ' b" î^'h'-d, daa ЛЛаак ^»л.Л ta "t^vUl- L min -л-.t!. 1:ал vaa¡]v (o pr.t mimo aavwai 1di Jtaaf pnrjioria" , w-Uaa;* а ча« Л (.f bbrt aoUfi !асм, ÏÏ* a.„o,% a.:al к- аша-а hbnaVf, aaíudy шн1 pvi, pbt Ьм p, ». V- don n un iM V-Jr <>f «unvr,* Hifc|,,i* г ¡ íitid bni>hcd *t«iv/:î in atîiosJ (ала*!. inanîaT; fin- t лнааа - *л bad; !»»• palk d <-vf ri\v 'et iirr varis 'f "1 have, ami wîfh /клр r<'krraf ;;.iud, wkal ïî? • ои!у n-pulsívc bí^tíí about kirn was liait Ьл hwî - ЬЫ *lr*m taop tuinas tdV bi«¿ aiai wiutc Jtioro, íiftvr wimitrd bim, Ып ta m? pnrpw\'; j Qîdy nnr» rye; bîîî- iU>>n fia- Ьп^;П;гяч aa-î ' b'-cho'i-rbb-f, îa- а аа>; 1кпа i-andably ар» a rai faaai was tbe i-fjay. !kvaiass of tbar neniad aiuyty lu ahaa* u>r thv : ko {an <»n a r«,ar-.' vas Ь!оп.м» ; ami tn r«* Г л!'íbVaa-y al lia.; oílaaia '* :i.:.<}, ,а_ад-о п.ецп;,..!^..,,^, |.aal.ad it i,d ** Jbntí i iaoialba ívai. Mr-, f Ira ft. Taka ray , T«í stîîji tjp ab, b" wa, a mv.mb'T <'f a ,-ma!I v.or-d.-d cap .-v-r bis b--r,d, îidvl^v, .lUd do aof i-k Jo îiinm aay laofv; b'l V* ai ¡«aaríy .aided laa Sbakftrs. !* I ïlad Л rad baon f,,,. fa*(, oía» aya, fa\v would v,4 ho\^ tb.af LakfV nraaj !;.- ja.? a>yor, a:a!' H is hoiî^hoîd го7?ч'>*,:,1 of an oíd woman, daatf • have r^c^f/nw-'l in ihr» man bt*ÍWt* íbarn obi I Jail, м. wil) wn'f ít^a waa-aiag to bbub' í und ilmiib, Ьн ae¡/li,aw, yuu«^ Jaek, a»k< two | Jaek JV-ppiT. ui\ ha k«;mi« od bis baa ькаы la-iyu- Atuí WA.U tUd f'.oít wabuad »a;t sa,-coa?aaia,|î- . ua-a, 'л;.а :ixa>bd in tac, ¿,ae înaf ait: Ьа,ьЛаа-л. ' Uaias кал саЛ1аЛ biu;t к* i 'oaai l'< р[..«гЛ' kou.-c büo tki: factory, aud buáed ;а:мы-Ц witi* . < Лл I'.*¡>j ат aív, ays aU<"ndt*d b» tbo aaotai ралг; Tb t.- акаллИип iaaad-, !ba,i Îo,4î aavîkiaa'bat mr 'VVi;'"k- !biaihvif in aa,ora wayç tkan unta for bo paid ail î tkik t ';i5t ?\st* ««h<' nîtrjd l'.ub 1or<] all la* kn»,iw <*f ï глопау-- away nnd r^oivàd tb<4n. !Ти-о * ••• <*.-<л. Л a-a,,,,,]; с;;;Л.,1Ь,,р p„t *у'' niV'l',r ''v biH I''iîbl nta4.% Ino'.vka-r! At" <:•• h ak la- >ba. •.wr^koia-". aafl,!-.k-al r,.ut i.-'v r-a-d î.aa^ Ii«: the r»!iî na« >r-ra(, woa!, bbo talo wbh him; алл! , wkaaf ware c!üsL4t íor tke m;'Aiи tha men stmt j uuor, bulíi ai iban) плоаиЧ fo dif all t.ivy* could to : кла л arai ab w.-iß still; hin ihn gbiaïia r oí; хТоЫтийишХ Сшшсис^л in .Vo. jam.) BOYS OF ENGLAND. 41 *m Tur.v kavln't <*лг<;»т vom yi;t/ A STRANGE CAREER; OU, THE FOi'.OKR'S Vti.ITbM. С1ШТКК I. OLD КОМ АХ VA Г LT, 'was it dark mû dismal night and a thick fog hang ove the city, the rain fell steadily 1 and unceasingly, the street lump- looked dim and yellow through the fog, pedestrians slipped and splashed about on tsm groasy muddy pave- rmmb ami Um íí:ílí trcslris î-'lhsf(íihh! and dripped with the deímonbing ruin. The aireéis were ihiek with shmli, and the | vehiea s moved along at litt 1 u mar v. i lian a ¡ Walkîilg í\hi¡(!í;: the great sea of human beings wading ukm g the «tiwti* on thai miserable evening was Osear Me rivale. lie wjib a young nam "f abmah live and twenty it of OXOeed- bespokc an eg and int«'' «'''-i me bmach m h- m deep t-íiwM'.'Íít, mal after walk и g ^Miie little distance gava- vent to his feelings in îi low tone—> "Well, this dob night. after so meek bright ^anther, very nnmh r< sembles my fortunes >nn- *hine yesterday and df'p gloom fo-dny. What Щ' futuro is "to be I ouonot it И, 'i*nat my- И'тм.ця eherne ii'M threw un* into disgrace and ílien ted me to dishonour, and now iav liberty and power of net ion are under the eoeíoel of a ;<4Hit'dre!t from whi'.f" torshes I fo:tr I ,sh;Ji trv iri vain to escape, i hit th" effort пны Le made, ^migh the irame 3 am phrvine; m а rbb;\ оно, < ,И Pendle reaps a)! th.- benefit; ï musí ¿-t rid * uui'jvd on either nido of tho eeurt. Xot; a gllm'emr'of H'dtt wan to In: W;W1 hi JU)V oC the windows tío- bonse. Ho entered and rhxii the door ear-duPy, Groo- imr hl« way solo a vide room at. thu iurther end of the pa«srisrr. bo prndncrrl a iight, Tlie room i а ятаИ. was empty and hart:, and iookt-d «hieerie.ss enough, t or iabis, lie ti.on j«ut Ын ana rnrotigli the smoke :o!o-f ■ '«uií-aent parís oí tí: file register «luve üiiii palled a rope, then siandlng | up'»n a ph-ee o£ the ÍIh.с* ho eave a sheh'. jump, \ and ihe }«:irt on whieh he was J»tan.h'ug hlowlyf d' -'(M-Ld-'d, whde, ai üw Fain-' tino» th<4 h.-a>:ih- \ sd'-ne gn4duid!y re»^o, or raile.T oponiod like t!n* lid of a box. and diseîo^î a îadde.r loading into 1 я cedar b'-'ra-at h wîktî4 h« was' htandoitf. wo;,M have я ry Ftngulir appear- го i ао ¡i wo1- a t-h-oiiher * -г vaaU oí about í we!ve Ста, V iоаго-; an ;е/ ioea: ia:; weht -.o/»o Pave kîtown i'J wa> oi К ол:» '!,g«n, i y', , r;'«'s""-5 í)f tK'.'uliar-: of dmmmthv. stature, aiol was known T-.tiV ; tía "Otar \s as a big, romo: mam \s h h Jcatares denoüng gretil energy o£ cuaraeter and d.'termi nation. Ts¡су cnavpoi ciscar with a tmd a- im ontcnal, ando >sing hini гч Mr, Wihpoke« as от- îmhd mnxs Ы" b?m*kwork; bttt there was '' •* Pendle eau h-hiwy know \Ы mode oí one briol; around which there -was. ïîu nmrtar, \ entranee,,} said t, :ег,1 (t'íear * nrered the in-'t gmimm^dr-eontriced oprnin?, closing it after ' f bÎTTi. ïb« w;t'- then in a parage; he walked em a linio» and titriiíee to the* riehp emerged from the darkness into a room,, which, to a ^ranger. iiratersîo„4 ir,on lum that he never comes von kn »w he*> not bemi here ыпее J have mol rmc b = r loop N-fe.re tbatp' *aid Tur.v. ;od Ihd, "'l know thai : hut he ha* Co add- d with empka.-b% looking a,r, •* why did im eon m? why, to a oral panne—to have тч eooim' his «Xo, • war-is Uf:e 1he:ii!i.M Ali Г retarned Omar, ^ t \< r\ eartl io hi- i-wn imn well as you thought; уэи cannot alter it because he knows how to get down here." "That was the price of letting me go in his swim," said Bill. "There's one way of doing it," said Oscar.** "How Г I * Alter the mode of approach.", ** Alter the mode of approach Г* exclaimed Hatton, In a contemptuous tone. "Why, do you know the trouble I had to make that mode of approach, as you call it; to make that hearth- stone rise as it does, and to build and swing the brick door that fits into the wall like wax 1 The hearthstone is like a real one, and all those little bits of straw round it that lift up with it, and half hide the crack when it's down, would mislead them in a minute; and the sink, trap in the floor what you stand on they'd never find, for it's only one board wide and looks like a short length put in when the floor was laid down ; and then there's the bolt, and I'll swear they'd never move that, for they'd never find the rope up the chimney lodged as we lodge it—and then supposing they found all that, there's the brick wall door below. Why, I was weeks and weeks over that alone." "It certainly is a fine piece of work, and fits into the wall admirably," said Oscar. "Ah 1 you don't know the trouble I had with it. No, no, Mr. Wilson, it's ail very well for you to talk about burking the entrance and making another. That can't be done." "Suppose Pendle knew you wantod to get rid of him V* said Oscar. Hatton's face assumed an expression of the most intense ferocity, as he sharply turned his eyes on Oscar and exclaimed— ** What do you mean? Who's to tell him but you 1 Look you here, Mr. Wilson, you know the entrance, but split if you dare, or tell Pendle what 1 have said, if you dure. I know all about Mills and Layton's cheque, mind Î and with a little ingenuity I could send you beyond the sea—a little false swearing would do it, and I'm not the chap to stop at a He—so peach if you like." Oscar was surprised and annoyed when he found this daring man knew of his mishap; but he skilfully avoided any exhibition of his feelings. "Don't be so hasty, Bill," he said; "act as you please; only if you and Pendle do part, let me know where to find you, so that I may choose which I would join.'' "That's talking like a man," said Hatton, heartily; "but let us not be in a hurry. I have made a bad bargain with Pendle, bub can't see my way It) be off it with safety. But I'll tell you what, if you like to join me in the coining, 1*11 agree, and we'll work it on the quiet, without Pcndlu's knowledge. It'll pay far better than this; and as I make the yellow boys it'll take a good judge to detect them. "Pendió has told me that you are a first-rate workman," returned Oscar, ** so I will consider the matter; but as it is getting late give me those two notes you spoke of and Г11 be oif." Here they are," Mr. Wilson,''and use your judgment. I think you and mc could work well without old Pendle. Now don't you yourself think Pendle gets all tho gilt?" *• Well, I think he does," replied Oscar, " and we all the danger; but good night," and Oscar left the vault by the same mode he had entered* and soon found himself in the busy streets of the Borough. When he had walked a little distance he gave vent to a subdued laugh. "That's the way,'* he said; "there's Pendle and Hatton at loggerheads. Pendle gets it all now, Hatton thinks he'll shut Pendle out, but my intention is to shut them both out. By the bye, I'll have another look at that passage, now. There's no telling how soon Hatton may act, and I must be before him." Oscar lost no time in retracing his steps to the dark court where the house stood which led to the Iloman vault, but that house he avoided and stopped in front of one three doors off. Taking a key from his pocket he opened the door and entered the house; for, of this deserted, tumble- down old building Oscar was the sole tenant. With a view of assisting lii-s scheme in obtain- ing possession of the Iloman vault for his own use, he had agreed to rent it for a certain period. He had learned from the late occupier that there were passages leading from the cellar in a direc- tion which he suspected must be close to the vaulted chamber Hatton so much prized. When inside the house, Oscar found, a, candie as he had left it two days before, and, lighting it, descended into the cellar. It was much larger than the foundation of the building. In one of the walls was a low archway, through which Oscar crept. Standing upright, and holding the light above his head, he, for the twentieth time, examined the direction of the long passage before him* u I can't be wrong," he said; *' its twenty- eiglit paces long* and the vault, according to my calculation, is twenty-five paces from my door,, leaving three paces for the passage running obliquely." Then he took from his pocket a small compass, and holding it level watched the direction of the needle. "I must be right," ho said; "that far corner should be close to Hatton's vault; yet I have often listened and could never hear a sound. »Stop. I'll wait here till the dead of the night, till after he's left, and П1 try and move some of the bricks." He went up to the corner of the passage, and. placing his ear to the wall, fancied he could hear the mutterings of a voice. "I'll remove a brick or two and.that will settle it at once. Then, Mr. Hatton, you may bid good bye to your vault." CHAPTER II. LOOKING INTO THE EYES OF AN OWL, Mr. Cornelius Pendle was a man of great mental power, and of a stem, uncompromising disposition. His dwelling was in High Street, Marylebone. The house had a dingy exterior, and few people knew anything about it. His ostensible calling was that of a bill discounter and commission ; agent. The interior of the house presented a strange appearance. The furniture was old and fast rotting away. Window curtains hung at the windows as "they had remained suspended for years, brown and ragged, and dust and cobwebs covered the furniture and walls of every room save one, and. that was Mr. Cornelius Pendle's own private chamber. Into this room daylight had not been allowed to enter for years. To supply its place a rich crystal candelabra hung in the centre of the ceiling, and from its wax candles shed a soft rich light around. The walls of this room were covered with crimson embossed paper of the richest quality. Each wall was divided into equal spaces by fluted pillars of gilt which sup- ported Gothic arches of the same material and workmanship. In each of these spaces hung small oil paintings, by the best artists, and of the most exquisite finish. Maria Abbott, an old woman who waited on Mr. Pendle, was the only other human being living in the house. Her existence was passed in about equal moieties in the kitchen and a garret where her bed was placed. A large black cat, alternately petted and kicked by Marirty accord- ing to the state of her own temper, was her sole companion. Cornelius stood on the rug, looking thought- fully on the floor. He was about fifty years of age; his florid complexion was surmounted with a thick head of hair, tinged with grey, the fulness of his face and the absence of those marks usually impressed by advanced age, con- trasted strangely with this sign of senility. His eyes were small and sharp, and twinkled with a cold sinister expression, and this, with his hard formed mouth, spoke of the cold, calculating heart within. There was a, knock at the door. 41 Come in," cried Cornelius. "Mr. Wilson, if you please, sir,** said old Maria, in her mumbling way, as she opened the door. Oscar walked in and bowed to Cornelius. "Good evening, Mr. Pendle," uTakc a seat, Wilson," said the swindler, "So they haven't got you yet. I thought as you had not called this last day or two they had got you. about that cheque business. These things— these little mishaps, you know, hang over a man so Jong. It's well for a man to have friends to lean on." "It sounds strange, Mr. Pendle, to hear you moralise upon the penalty of little, mishaps when you are perpetually acting and working one of a gigantic character." *' You are severe—you hit out; who is to* prove I am acting a gigantic mishap?" "Why, I could, if I felt inclined to be un- grateful to you for the good you have done me,"" said Oscar. '"You, Mr. Wilson! You—a forger t" "I am no forger, Mr. Pendle," cried Oscarr starting up, his face reddening with anger. Good, very good—dramatic and powerful. I see, Mr. Wilson, that if the smashing business fails, you'll still have another peg to hang on to* —that is the stage. But let that pass. You say, Mr. Wilson, you're not a forger - that you didn't forge Will and Layton's choque—but you were discharged from their house on suspicion. Now, what would bo the value of your oath against mo in a court of law ?" and Pendle turned his- cold, glittering little eyes тцюп his companion. Oscar felt the full force of his remark, and cursed the ill-fortune that had thrown him into- this man's power. Pendle continued, In all transactions of this kind, it's as well to have mutual powers over each other. Between mc and you, Mr. Wilson,. . this power exists ; and between mo and Hatton it's the same; you see we all hang together, each / holding a power over the other. But let this pass; you need not fear me, and I have no fear of you. Now, let's get to business. Have you seen Hatton lately?" "Yes." "Well, and did he show you the Prussian* notes?" "Yes; I saw him last night." "Well, when those notes arc printed, you must go to Berlin. I will give you full instructions when you start." "When do you think that will be X" "Not for some days yet." At this moment there was a knock at the door, and old Maria appeared. She whispered something to her master, and the latter followed her out, shutting the door after him, saying, before he did so, "You must excuse me, Mr. Wilson, a little while,. I am required below. You know I don't let all my acquaintances sec each other, and I don't let everyone into this room; but j on, you know, are a favourite," and a grim smile played over his face. Pendle's absence was so prolonged that Oscar became restless. He got up and walked about. He examined the pictures, then the furniture, prying into everything with idle curiosity. One picture amused him vory much. It Was a representaion of a barn-owl standing on a perch, and looking out straight at the observer. It was a large picture, and the owl was life- size. "There's something peculiar about its eyes," JáN'UAUT ], IhTO.J 43 BOYS OF ENGLAND. thought Oscar, after be had gazed at it a little while. He took hold of the picture to lean it on one side so as to get a different light upon it, when, to his surprise, he found it fixed to the wall. Thoughts of secret closets and concealed docu- ments flew into his mindiustantly, and he felt all round the frame. As he did so, his hand rested on a knob at the top, and the bird's eyes sud- denly disappeared, leaving in their place two round holes. Oscar was startled. He got up on the chair that stood beneath, and looked through the two holes in the picture. In euch hole was a small lens, which gave him a clear view of a room beyond. It appeared to be a bedroom; there was the bed, a table, and chairs and washstand, and there, too, was a female figure with long, black hair, and beautiful features; but the large dark eyes were, glaring with the fire of madness, liound the waist was a light steel or iron band, and from this to the bed reached a long chain ! ¡ Oscar released his pressure on the knob, the eyes! of the owl in the painting returned, and got down off the chair. He seemed paralysed with sur- prise. Then he thought of Pendle. Had he driven the creature mad? Who was she? Why did he use these means of watching her unseen? Was he afraid of her taunts, which, even in madness, are sometimes true and bitter 1 He returned to the seat he had occupied, and sat thinking over tho strange sight he had seen till Pendle returned. "Well, Mr. Wilson," ho said, as he came in, "Tve been longer than I expcctet\." * "It's of no consequence, sir; unfortunately, my time is of very little value." "At present, probably not; but you may find it more profitable in the future than you imagine. You don't repent working with me, I presume Г '* I have no choice. It is starvation, or at least humiliation among my own frienda, or following your promising leadership, Mr. Pendle," saiii Oscar. *• Well said. And now, Mr. Wilson, or Oscar Merivalc. let me" "Stop, Mr. Pendle: I have assumed an alias. Please always speak of and to me by that name. Ity the bye, sir, you have not dealt fair with me." "How so 7" "Bill Hatton knows about that unfortunate stolen cheque. I have told no one but you. You must have told him." "Upon my honour, Mr. Wilson, you are wrong. I have never mentioned that circumstance to any one. Hatton is a crafty man and a clever insinuating fellow. The probability is he has learned your history from yourself. But why be so squeamish? One would really think you were guilty. Don't be so sensitive. You young men think about getting through this life with youthful hearts, j'outhf ul fancies and a tender conscience. It won't do, Mr. Wilson, you must smother your ¡ conscience, and banish all sympathetic feelings, and perhaps in time you may come to be as I am—a man with a quarter of a million of money.** "And how made, Mr. Pendle?" asked Oscar, sarcastically, though good-humouredly. "Son .i of it honestly. But do you know the meaning of the word honesty? Society sets up its own code of honour, against which I mildly protest and practically evade. Monev is the great end and aim of all, and the most worldly honourable will often strain a point to obtain it. I make money, but I harm only those who can afford to lose, and most of whom do infinitely more harm to society than I do to them. Now I will ask you one question. Would vou be rich?" '•As you say, it is the universal wish, and I am by no means exempt from it, but I should prefer acquiring it in an honourable manner." '♦That may be accomplished." "How, sir Г '* By marrying my daughter." Oscar started up. Was Pendle joking with bim? Had he any daughter? He had always believed Pendle to be unmarried. Then he thought of what he had just seen through the eyes of the owl in the picture. Was that woman Ыв wife or daughter, or what? Could that unfortunate maniac whom he saw shadowed on the glass, sitting on the floor with the large melancholy eyes staring out into vacany, could that be Pendle's daughter? n Are you suffering from heart disease, Wil- son ?" asked Pendle, as he sat watching Oscar's astonishment. ** Heart disease I No. What a curious ques- tion." "Because you seemed to have a sort of spasm just now. You seemed unable to speak." "Well, Mr. Pendle, I must own that I am astonished at your proposition. You say to mo, * Marry my daughter and I never knew you had a daughter, and have never seen her." *' What of that? You want money. I will give her fifty thousand the day you are married. You may stare. I could double that sum and then have as much again left for myself." "But why, Mr. Pendle, do you wish me to be your son-in-law Î What can you see in me to offer such thing?" •* Mr. Wilson, we all have our weak points ,* I am ambitious. I want to see my daughter move in good society; I want to see her lolling in я carriage in Kotten Bow, to see her mix with the aristocracy, and you alone can assist me. You *have the education, the suavity of manner, the bearing of a gentleman; you have all the neces* sary qualities requisite for one of our haughtiest nobles, but you lack one thing—and that thing is—money. If you married my daughter, you could burst upon the world of fashion like a meteor.*' "But fifty thousand pounds, Mr. Pendle, is a great sum* Many a poor baronet or lord would be glad of the offer you make me. I can't con- ceive why you should make this offer to mc." "Mr. Morivale, many a pauper baronet might jump at the fifty thousand pounds and would marry a labourer's girl, but they would shrink from marrying the daughter of one who has amassed wealth contrary to the straight-laced rules of society." "Of a forger. As you were kind enough to speak plainly of me just now I do so now of you." Mr. Men"vale, you are playful. Yes, they would shrink from marrying a swindler's daughter, a eoinor's daughter. Well, what do you &ay to my offer Г "I can say nothing to it, Mr. Pendle, until I have seen your daughter, and she herself being greatly interested in the bargain, won hi probably like to express her ideas on the subject.' "My ideas are lier ideas and my wish is her wish." Oscar paused, but seeing that Pendle waited for him to speak, he said, ** I presume you do not require an immediate j answer, Mr. Pendle V* "No, I will give you four days/' "I should like to'see your daughter." "That request amuses me. I show you fifty thousand pounds, and tell you that a certain person shall bring it you, and you say—1 will not have it unless I like the look of the person who brings it. Mv daughter is not lame, she is not blind, she is not deaf, and she is not dumb —what more do you want? But I will so far humour you, you shall sec her to-morrow. Call here at six; and now we will return to business. Shall you pass Wardour Street?" "I can call that way." "Then take these notes to old Nixon. He'll give you £1Г> for them. Tell him I think he had better work the West Country fairs a little ; the North is over done at present. They have been worked till they are wide awake. We must wait till they go to sleep again. And now, good night." Oscar departed, and soon reached his lodging. His thoughts were in strange confusion.' Ho reviewed the events of the last four months. Arriving in London with only a letter of intro- duction he had obtained a responsible situation at Mill and Layton's, with a liberal salary. A cheque was stolen, and the principals of the firm accused him of the theft. Knowing his own innocence he challenged an inquiry, which they refusal, saying they were willing to forgive him, and to mention the matter no more, but that he must leave at once. His employers refused to give him any character; and thus week after week he found himself still out of employment, and his little- store of money gradually becoming less. In this state of affairs he one day met a stranger in an obscure coffce-liouse, who being a skilful and amusing conversationalist, soon won his confi- dence. That stranger was Pendle. CHAPTER m. BARBARA PENDLE. Oscar awoke the next morning and saw the bright rays of the sun streaming in through tlip smaii window of his room. The joyous light gave him fresh energy and new hope, if any man can hope who is persistently pursuing a wrong course, and wilfully acting against the admoni- tions of his own conscience. While dressing, he thought of the notes Pendle had given him to tako to Nixon, in Wardour Street. He made a hasty breakfast and started off, and soon entered the shop of the old man. The walls were lined with bird cages. In the- window were several choice parrots, cockatoos,, and other tropical birds, which, with the lùiglish singing birds, produced a concert of strange and inharmonious sounds. Old Nixon was sitting over a small fire in the backroom boiling an egg, for he was his owr* cook and housekeeper. "Well, Golly," shouted Oscar, who knew that the old man was rather deaf. Colly took no notice; so Oscar entered the- room and touched him on the shoulder. Then, raising himself by the help of a thick staff which he always carried with him, he with some- difficulty attained nn upright position— upright for him, for his back was bent and his head bowed with age. *' Well, Colly, how are you ?" said Oscar. Colly looked close up at bis visitor's face, for he was very near- sigh ted. and then exclaimed: "Ah, Mr. Wilsop^how dc do?" "How are you, Colly?"' ** Oh, Гт bad. Very bad—very bad. I am* only the shell of what I used to be. Take a- seat^ Mr. Wilson." "So bad as that," said Oscar, sitting down. "Ah. yes. And my cough—oh, it rattles me to bits, and I can't take anything for it. No. Ah, times have changed; I am very bad—very bad." Oscar produced the notes and gave Pcndle's message. "Olí, yes," said Colly, "oh, yes; ГЦ give you> the money for them. That's half, you know;, but Pendle need not have sent the message." "Why?" "Why? Why because what should he know about working them off? He can make them,, perhaps, or get them made, but he don't know any .more how to put off a flash note than an. unborn kangaroo. Sir, he's a chicken at that branch of the profession, and then he sends you> here to tell me to work the west country fairs." "Well,*' returned Oscar, "I know nothing of that business; if you disagree with the means- he proposes, you must adopt a better one, or settle the matter with him, I have delivered' my message, and that's all I have to do with, it." «'Of course it is," said Colly, "you are only a young beginner, and have everything to learn. Though Pcndle's a good teacher in most things- —very good." "He's married, is he not?" asked Ocar. "Tho Lord only knows; he was once. Ah^ poor Mary Î He's the rummicst fish 1 ever swum, with/* u Have you ever seen his daughter?" "Didn't know whether he had one or whether he hadn't. Don't know anything about his family and don't want, at least at present. He- was my son-in-law once." 44 Your son-in-law t" "Yes, of course he was; but he worried my poor girl out of her life. She died. But, there, it's no use telling you anything about that, Mr. Wilson. You are young and happy. I am old and forsaken.. Poor Mary, she was the only being who loved poor old Colly." "Are you quite sure your daughter is dead Г* (To be continued.) 44 ROYS OF KNGLAND. the soys or Enu,mm:t¿x:^ ,,,, STOBY TELLER. bodv them howlh, ;! ITobabiy th..-y Lav«„ already com- menced the feast î" The poor wife uttered a deep groan, and staggered back, as ehe heard these fiendieh words. She could not believe that the monster had com- mitted so terrible a deed, although she had no doubt the wretch was capable of committing almost any J" Í И u -. bogan appeared gratified at her evident angmeh, and be continued*- *' Aîolïy Farley, yon might hav-- tsade и«» your friend, mit you йате made me yuiir foe. are now going to follow me to the monntams," "«*" 11 nv ) a a!" "Oh î yon won't hesitate when I aim ready to1 go. But you might be a little dangerous if you should h
¿ kî.:f.'( or hi'j **ther weapon; so 111 pa-t tie your bands/1 Mr. Mr-Jo* worthy t«*vk his аееуМаяша! sent wi^ a Tho Tenerada proco» чЬ-d to do thi«, m spit.- of her ¡•acht'í *,f ра|н,<гн hi his hand. rtmzzlr* аЫ her «-пЧ-н. ii; whhd: il» cb'do y.ined, Л ¡ í.b* member,- unre bivathl. - adds e-planean Wd-a¡ î w.i • d< .res 1^;а.« d.-b'U mad. pouv^d-d Mr. Aí^hifeworUíy prefaced гчааагкн by «Л- lo sei fire t.. ibe e,baa, Thun taking U'ie hiCa b,v fecvape; that the *Ф..»гу lie wa* about to lead to ш his arm*, he ьаН— thi'IU war* not hv own сошро#?,;"п, V'M' :• • • had !i"«'h seat t¡» h;hi by a p wb'). h>r many \ »*urs. routed ir с - trieb un*-re íhft «*т**нм ;al а.*> í-oaa a .s íuituaa hi tro A«ro^ tbf* broad pbiîw of ..... \V... h" f.»ofí his a a y : and. >u tiioc i a a'o ;u,f.' -t, h Ojipaa linfa'1. !'»„(« •'•' ;»'''••'« «»Пит rldîd. a briid-t litth- !v,u:,.^a í ^V{i;|f i4.uu! . ,(jr 1fîo'her (1^? The %1 ía оно еы*а<а' oí {!«»• i h" h/rid íUae-, í>'ta"ia;r П| ir m :i '-«'abia "ain-r.« нЬе a■ ihb. -.No,' \%аъ the fei. •,v^;»f)/ei if Í 4ionU «!., «а" »* What briogf you hvrc Voa, my k»vr.M *• What ь >ou: ригро>»-.^ U'V() tajo: voa t-.- la}' hoaie Mid Ui make you lay aoaso * voa Nvoahi a-a U.a: Ko;hae,r 1aa, !o »aToa h*-r -еар.а o- a hi- ©f кТа \ '.jry even worse than death. Alone, she would hare preferred death ; hut while her little one lived, i- la*. toof must do the same fox its taJte, «aeat ,j, уе»ае(а5 ,«h;H. ;a«'gt from her Ищ and ^he faiiei.-d t aat. id," lyaoi ,a; an • 'a»-rli.^ ' y.'íjáa^ "f.-" UW v, vif. iíiA b .o: edetí hit!" ©Ott« s.a.u ion» j Ali night long did the devoted mother straggle 'eta ap ib.* bl.e-h iiüh ; :tli;a,e an iai.anaiO'iei adar, j h oca,.-, ,0 d. !адч v» r, i i eíüy some dozen aavagee» ■ atitl was evidently but a temporary H^pph^-p!«^, j Tb4 e ;ad-- .'dy*'d Id;, a ía^ f í aîa ;î. vvif<• idr* ady.M ** Voit Ь;».\е b'»'U; hut I have divoreed you.1* "sVi-.i.i iUi уоц ааои ?*' "!атка,ен yoa ad! uad'a*.'daa' yoa hnvo ï.oi maníi a d rrsy )¡a>band !'1 •* P'^aa.v! v.'" dt*n"t e,dl it f.urti»-r i a ;п< м- partía wîîcîi you ;ич: not. I vvíil híii it. ...-ven aa i d;d its father?* F.'«)?* Moliy яапк down wííh а усгоап, Ilot abe was j/îad to rvst, aral, îtfîer а Шае, hb-op rame to her Г'-hof—a hi fid, ar.ref r»^hin«i нк*с]>, ft hi of wnd d/eaî"* and derriba- íaaa/áaaía Id;t **. hur «a LUv íoedaóoi d.aaea -dl !his time? lay in bad gooe oat for a huat in eniapany with ¡i¡<¡, aa'.st iatanate fríi.aah ke; м-a ai Wad J"rry. lliyb. up tbe mountains they proo.tjed.'da \«.;aa!» .î, la; ha. '.eîa-d to til" spot. "So Eovdï v,as vkdbhe laaa.lly ine (sdled the nana* »:f h:^ wife, but tla.'re was no napoasca >nva ihd mouiilain о.'.!аи»,ч. And y< t le-îdaa.ybi that far up ua- м-»-р b«i did b.-ar «omoJhing which appeared i;k>* an at^wviar.g pi an aid ia th.it in-nan I aa bedian. h< ail ,a-j >«-аг.»ш ей. CuШе Up. Jerry was ab»ui to raw* his rille and fir*', f.'r he hea no ooa^t i an. that ihU •we aiae fj"fs.a¡ \', no bad d<-a* 'П" v.«,, k> and liait others were near ai- hand j but h<- paes.'d, for the naw-»'o?»'¡aas.iid/' "Bryan Pareas yen h;iv<- work {•■< do, srai 1 will help you, if you wül accept ray sfrvi.'-MK," * V-"—do }ou know ai'.ythina; of "Y- i»ir wife and eh i H ara with BIo#dv b; .a.' 4' Yds: .-,a.w tías and dei iaa, try to «ave île ía. У' "! d I fa i ti- il, 1 kenn,, d a, íaem •! r> n->rhh; 1 na.'t a lit'h' way b'd<.>vr. But CO'ne—î'd KP îo !he n'seaa?.;'" ;a,a an v»a-. iedí ia< ías'd lo í bis!; iba!, Idi h.dia.n was not a ñaond. a i b« у-о.- ft-sved to b*\ but it was a de«iterate case, iiie.i b,H rvjdb'd, "V« — { win trn.-t yoii—'we will go with youd' ^ It was not a difBealt matb-r to follow id** Hand of I/.;raa; but i¡ e hnuem i-n- campment was not reached untii after dayli;/hi., so îhat op.estañas imtist bo \ ■ • îp-e-j'-d und! darbn»":,-t «ена aa aaraa» And wearily tl'Mj oiay paased for'the was idling hnsl/aiai, adn > rai íirsa-л in' -a a" ads a ;f% ata! eíuaa al íeaaí îa,ou:.d oi Ь*а1- dí-'-on as dahenoKS e.»iu^ or.» tbe hunter*, with thiar la-'dan fnend. 'Tapi. n-:.naa' ti:«' ean¡p, and !e.¡»k, Щ> L¡f ir pohiliou behind a ledge, just at thy head oi îb»' hdia. f b" O' -dy *aad fa., y duin- wta-n a - ri-, -if Vöhl , .«blieb ¡mnl fort!* from the captive wumau, and , sin* «ап'ТраЛ [¡vio fiie wigwam, rld'o Kivu'/'.r, ratiT' il yí ds, 'aadb aaei'tba-sa who had been lyin^r npon the ground ,«praag t«» their ; feet, Л daad; fea/sn %as reen «''-biia - o-v,adb, the , ул.\, I where Hu* fiaeiids wero o./üeeuled, and it pait-.ed for 'an icaant aai a ьЬ Ivina^ r. b-a.>tf and at íhe sanie tinte 'dniei^l the i bay ; Tie' arañad pavo a bend of paírt. ГеЬ-ач. d hU , vieil un and, na:led ovar tía.; caí ai et sn?.» th'o gnif .belovv.'t ЛИ The sava^rp were wv.up in thai direction, but ; tli' aee îe r x\ aa in lia- ab'oaa-e. 1 h,- fr.vaady indhn l ne a' tí, d dis ->аа*гу '.v-udd ■ now be cern-nn', as î hecih*s of 1 ne < • n< e p ad< a. i'^ ^'L'r ,"'rvi] , up the hoy» • h" I aaaí ie bad th< tneiiar hee.ane that fiï a had y*. u fo.tb, bo!dííít4 J AN CARY ]. I BOYS OF ENGLAND. TOft'.ih* d fee V*-i';/»' cí Üifí pf'i'i pica Vvbcf SL" had.!' ¡^•"71 1 ¡e< Lear ye • "'.vn. reu! then: Ь !л te e, " eetdl her ■ it- ruis» The fHr-nrilr Indian did not pn-t a ad he refaehVd ueeetical, fcn hi c>'ua -и.il }1 . .» a' I :г, - г i >'< ;rrounù. Н;П U!ihfcd<-d. 'ThU wa h»r -whi-tï th«> eavayes slept he c°v cí Ыом! rïii'il v*;>,î;j." ,uua\ .h ггу had i;-., fit'.?,!'! heepaef. it Vr.'i- :-í,;ai- ïb'i.i' U :-,fv tii" Índ4ns «lepi. nnd two of th.-m had been bit «ад ?yuard. To master these wouiíi be the great trouhea Bttt the work v/,4.4 (V.itjtr. The s-H-^rsin^ n-didcins wce*e nub-vae] -.f tb-îr кштеч and ton.ahawkf*. ai.d tue jx»wd»'r ш their riticn wan : 'Unrated with v-aUr, s<» ibiiî th-«y -и." he said, *• that <' bvcehen is to be married bo-morre»w?" "N.rv«.i hdy. >4 I eauuut heur y,^pas.ser on hi.-. Liîifl. T wili not heur yeге;ш» ¡ .¡are íi ■ \> >r M^w-ii ¡ , i,- i Uli. und t wb» -л к am no ''" "" * *" " î'er the Luid i.s тле-;' M í./hl fri"ïHÎ," retnne;d Г) i,î:i;,. ' f » , » 1 Li.. /• « ín;r «'.»n-m-hiw w<'íi!i¡ei in hi.-- J, nul, ;md t}¡¡¿ W44 ае^лпрИДЫ "i." rrif-í. ,'tbd mhJííi"!) ий-лг\ ifH'r r, le"iieve 1 yreve rare, ssíüi. XAfh'-u'at J y . ем a i f<" ь< ч; иее.;щ| W ;*ed the friendly Üíf «nielo í,p ('Th-! yon art; j,^, t-;ehf,e;iM?; . I :it M'./.!.:d h».i!". 'he 1ьше; éí К h (, ^чî'-гм^,,, it was, indeed. Um íaniou^ ímnt«r w- hïstruiiieislaî in an.unji' ihe- í';u«íIvf'4 н«ч«дпи •'a-yv- ií<,e У, t.je.'S НИ": ян Lre-y dn¡;r„,^ fy,' The fhhd mu'-í nr- Ь;еПу iejun-d. tie ^hie.li had heu k;h' d Ъу a nhot fne;, í- id fas1ee«-d Í:¡- fr<-!h nyoi; i's elofjhe ' oj Tl.v LuÍMr,« h,«*í («"^¡"f-í';^'' 'h не.! jy-v "•"•'-'(Я iw-v.iv :t;r*re iuede;-tc^l hy Üe/ee ♦ * * • «t Mr. iíidcsworüiT, havHiif cuticluded bh> ,4,Ured fr-TO- í« \ vn ЛКР'ЛГ:,— M;rih" . , iN а у:ш»е f-í e.ui'd^ u i <¡f-¡¡ d--y eh> ve, "..r.il í'hi^mjfj and ku^mí yi;t\'hiy dí-e.-eei:-; \л\ i\ g'.M>d p, not LiíHÍer:d.;iiidíi¡g the drift uí" the vííiC-- thei, hh,k.'d ¡my./.b-á, "Whei íbíi.v Kuuie, .Ics?op V" Said Pieîi}*, "'i'h.dh what Mr. Wouvefiiiniiu« vd.-he« v> ки-.-л»** Aï îh;4 Je г-"»!, tekím: h: f.»>■ a :>>).>-] in- ehued te laü^ii^. but .-eeiiig that the r**í тлтил'тЫ \\ i . * fr. Phihy \!< r*en. '.f гонг--.-; tie; е ешу лейте ее,-! *;he *е;ефт ef nil M«-rhir,." 'Mr, Vf" >ey«'nn;iïiBs *.пкч lítíTellv st M"Tcr«-d. ♦'<;*;ied î'h.l M". Whl-erheve te;:e 1 w h] ronio iïîîîieee;;f< ij. Л^-ор/' said tî;e I >ut<-h:??;*n. **Tnjj me, Лг^'.чер," Haid Philip, before the гает e« ¡hd e tve'" i Mr. 'MeL: a heul te í.eive M,n l- Nh., ^eh% ^«,t th.;t i um а ее ire ef," u Xhtei.." Haid Philip, whose brow was ommously •jl ^oî;:e, "* чет íhi.4 f-'tm iree Whíh?; fev<; lerere ÍV< et íhi^ th:." i :di e¡ exí-^?, ;h;e h- *eeî:Î h^ jse h,ee,;rr ¡e M.'rt.>!í.'* Д»*!..-ер ht.w.i ai.d ivnlhed ч'\ :\y, Ir.wkiTijr va.stlv* r.eei/- Л el uh íe- haii :^'■., -л h;d»'Ví-r cf t he d<-cp rnei irr* ; :; 1 d '•• . yre:i in!het»4Î upon PbUip by .Mark Wübrren-tv** îreachf-гу, ouuid oíd y .-eíí in tlhs a very adhy advanïa/c t¡ik»'H by'Philip of Ьм р«*ч*И.юп t"» hmül areí le.neili.de 1е,я :I v. 11 ¡tí íhtec ^yb*r?<4i; Lut m half that time my dangle*er and myself will be- far nvetv u;h v.4-11. We wî,d< yen ^••1, чг, aed new yocdela). Голее С ir«'i«'*b-eîî»** W'th a ''-iyhtr.eed y'eecp tfc; Pi 1 seT :u •< :se л b ' ;t >!;*, h Рее* ; e:ie Ь..?ч i> e'} ; , te-. i'hiPp е.гг-- filled with : л i )>;■. Ii" turned impatiently round !<< ^peiy^1, aisd 'id iî! a e 'evliîi *-'Гтs - my T' v, er 4 he- ;e;!lV.r- e wmnj.'4 sin"h п.* hev ire' г- •e.dd U i,r _ "*" u P: !¡ « • e í -1 *, '1 returned the lira sty и "Very little longer will .-ei'!h'" to >hr l!u- me -íat- uí Uí • e¡«y-< 'ad. цпЬ'ч-* 1 am very much mis- ,k"e» yuu vtdil be able to die- it.- VMir own. terms to this pre- :a a." coin'h- of yours, Yoa aimrn't fnr,ir**t that his friend ;i!,'",v: s ie iiiah'o ,< ,e^' prieur-.' "i e,,íe!. t (U',> Wiltn U !- i 4¡ ..jl îld" iiudüv bîow just received saw i eee.h'îîce t vi-'V^ i- hi . , \\ , >;< ttb <4• eed4 id'-.u; . h.л tiJm¡n;l,(c"wu" to :-»',uir¡' th'is about /' 1 her v,h a yeat valu- et <' use riieir cari tied. '.De;,- arnu'h br ;¡t¡y ene îyreeuy," which leie'b | 'e- h a di-yji *• eu der h;.- ïided f îiae h-p-, ÎP' .v;, t r, <¡d:e*-e! 1 'e it>-4' /le], vde t: P. '-v « «' at !se- dnor. ! < i)ffln hy" he paid, givire: a htîrricd fianceab'mt ■; eh'î to Fee t.het eo trace e-f Ids recent ерегаИоеч eee< ! * '?t war d>vop. I Thf maîi nntWwl lu'diîathigly, are1- по рьс.гее* n:-w ', "(•• eau il»1 ел e a wistful yheee at the dee/Г ;v- îJa «~»r« ,"'-ee,r to leave; d» tn lad. naid b'î Lnp.-d—in f.e.'y. dis*—'" 46 [JANCART it mo¿, BOYS OF ENGLAND. "PU tell you what lie said," interrupted 'Mark, *' be told you to bid me to begone at once. Well, Jeseop," ne added, with the air of a martyr who is ♦resigned to the cruel decrees of fate, "it is his right. He is master—I am only au intruder—I shall leave Merton—I shall not offend the master of Merton with my presence. Will you say that Г He said, a word or two concerning Mr. Wouvor- manns, and managed to learn that the latter was not upon good terms with him. This decided Mark to the Dutchman without delay. * He found him looking very grave, and his heart uai6gave him; but before he had time fairly to interpret the Dutchman's thoughts the latter gave •him a very warm greeting. "You have heard the news ?" asked Mark. '"I have—I have seen him," was the reply. *M Then it is true he is Philip Merton, and?" "The owner of all this fine property I called mine a few hours back," said Mark, forcing a smile. "Yes; and I wish I could feel pleasure unmixed with other sentiments at the thought. But, alas ! I see by the strange resentment the lost young man shows'me that his nature is hardened—from being merely tinged with evil it has become entirely cor- rupt, One distressing doubt is lifted from my mind —he lives, and so, perhaps, I ought to be con- tent.'' Mr. Wouvermanns shook him by the hand. "Excellent young man I" he said, warmly. '* Warm, lionest heart П 'Then he asked particulars of Philip's lengthened absence, the reasons of his strange flight and subse- quent wanderings, and the meaning of his silence during all these years. "My best friend," replied Mark, seriously, " to no man living but yourself would I open my lips upon this subject, for the honour of our family is dearer to me than life itself. Mark Wilberforce will pass -away in a few years, when his time comes, and be forgotten soon enough ; but the honour of our house should live for ever. In a few words, then, and those for your ears alone, Philip disappeared in a very strange way upon the night that our uncle, the late squire, died, and when he disappeared a large sum of money was missed from the Hall—not less than two hundred pounds. The money was 'taken from the room in which the squire died. Philip was the only ono of all the household who The doctor then said in ал undertone to Mr. Wouvermanns — "You see ho forgets all that has taken place while he was without his senses." "It was a savage way to treat a man, sir," said old Jasper, appealing to Wouvermanns. "I heard it all, every word, upon the night that the poor old squire died, and I can tell you all word for word although many nights have passed. I happened to be by the lime-tree walk, waiting for news of the squire whose death we were then hourly expecting. I heard a noise, and presently I saw a dark figure aowoi ше unpleasant i out and' * fc ^ щц j t re within the last few | f Ыш and thc¿ j . . whistl¡.d b£ such explanations by, one; w WÜQ Л(тМ tbt°eomo one be b¿ Wouvermanns nodded. The doctor had evidently heard this narrative before,' and now only made the sufferer repeat it for Wouvermaims. . This the latter saw, and he marvelled much at the doctor's object; but he was not long in doubt. "After a bit a window opened," continued old Jasper, "and then I saw а man come and exchange a few words that I couldn't catch. Then the man came down, and the two talked together about paying £200 for kidnapping some j*oung fellow; but no name was mentioned, and I grew very un- comfortable, for the man that .came out of the Hall to answer the sailor'a signal was Mr. Mark Wilier* force /" The Dutchman gave a start, but said never a word; only leant himself to the conclusion of the CHAPTER LUI. AN UNEXPECTED WITNESS. A SKitVANT came in to speak to Mr. Wouvermanns. "Doctor Mathews has sent, sir, to ask if you wonid call upon him at his house as soon as you possibly can. "I! What for?" returned Mr. Wouvermanns. "There must be some mistake. Are you sure he said me?" "Yes, sir." "It is very awkward," said Mr. Wouvermanns. "Unquestionably he does not know of the unpleasant i matters that have occurred here hours. However, I can't send such letter or message. I will go. Say that I will go. , ^ ^ we know 60 weU; obey 'returned the servant, and he left to j „ His па11^ r asked the doctorj eagerly# al^Ä time past close friends.* 'A chance meeting had brought about their ac- quaintanceship, and then .the discovery of their similarity of tastes and sympathies, elderly in their studies, had warmed their acquaintance into a very close friendship. This Was the reason that, in spite of the many matters occupying his thoughts for the present, he went off immediately to the doctor's residence. Here he found Doctor Mathews in a great state of subdued excitement. "I want your advice, my dear friend," said the doctor. "it is on a matter of the highest import- ance ; in short, I have a most interesting patient in the house at present." "What house?" "Tliia." "What ! here? You have converted your dwelling into an hospital, then?" "In the interest of science I would go much farther than that," replied the doctor, warming to his subject; "but in the present matter I must tell you that I have been urged and influenced by different motives—firstly, humanity. You have often spoken with me concerning a poor old man whom we have seen and chatted about in the village?" "Old Jasper Wadlow, the sexton, you mean?" "Yes." "He was already mad, very mad. Some time . , •> — —.since I found the poor old fellow crossing the had free access to the sick room at all times ; and so coraraon in such pitiful plight that I was induced to it got to be whispered about the village that Philip 1 - - - - . - -anticipated his inheritance, though I,"for one, will! never believe it." At this his hearer shook his head, as though to зау, "the young man's guilt is patent to all,' and to you too—though your protestations of his innocence! ч1о you all honour." ■ A few moments' painful silence ensued, and were broken by Mark. - "I now come to a painful portion of my duty," he said, with an air of frank manliness that none knew better how to assume. "Mr. Wouvermanns, 1 am a beggar *—-" His hearer was about to interrupt Ыш, but Mark • continued— ib I am homeless—houseless—almost penniless! It is my duty to release an honest man, and honour- able, from engagements entered into under different conditions. Is it needful to say to you that I .absolve you from all contracts and promises аз I free Miss Wouvermanns from the troth she plighted to me as master of Merton?" » With all his assumption of candour and dis- interestedness, the words were weighed with care, and calculated to catch his hearer to a nicety. • As he concluded, Mr. Wouvermanns protested, with a burst of enthusiasm, that nothing should be altered in the existing arrangements; tliat not only would he keep to his contract, but that he would not allow Mark' to withdraw for any less reason than altered affection. "You would not have Gretchen marry a beggar, Mr. Wouvermanns?" he said, scarcely able to con- ceal his satisfaction. "What matters? I have enough for all. Do you think so meanly of me as to believe that I would barter my daughter's happiness for wealth?" "Do you know that I must leave Merton Hall to- night?" "I have heard of your unworthy cousin's dis- graceful conduct," replied Mr. Wouvermanrbs, reddening with indignation. "I, too, leave Mevton HaU to-niglit. I shall sleep at the village inn. Nothing need be changed of the existing arrange- ments. To-morrow is your wedding-day Г Mark's heart leaped to his mouth with satisfac- tion. A few more hours, and he would be able to defy bis cousin Philip, the master of Merton. bring him home. At first he was so scared that I could hardly get him into a fitting humour, from which I judged that he had been frightened by some evil rogue, for old Jasper is so fond of me that at any time he would be ruled by me when no one else could do anything with him. So I tried all I could to get particulars from him; but all I could get out of him were these words, * Two hundred pounds! Two hundred pounds V repeated in all kinds of voices and with every shade of expression. Now, I must tell you that this was his rallying cry when we managed to bring back his voice for tne first time after the cruel blow that drove out reason and every faculty for awhile. There were signs of violence upon tho poor old fellow, too, which con- firmed my surmise of violence having been used. The words he uttered filled me with a strange hope; this is now upon the point of being realised. I want you to come in and see the patient, now that you are posted up in the particulars." Up to the present Mr. Wouvermanns could only suppose that Doctor Mathews wished to consult with him upon some medical matter, or perhaps the narrative in feverish interest. "I was quite lost as to what I should be after," pursued the old sexton; "so in my trouble I thought I'd come, to doctor—then I altered my mind twenty times, for I didn't like - to start a scandal about the squired family; but I couldu't rest in my cottage, so I started off, and just as I got in sight of Oldthorpe Lane, I saw some one щи by. Dark as it was, I knew it was Mr. Philips Then I felt full of fear, for I couldn't help somehow mixing him up with the sailor chap and Mr. Mark. "So off I trotted after him as fast as my old legs could go ; but the lad bolted out of -sight before I could get near, and I was afeard to call after him. So I kept on as hard as I could, until, as I got near Hangman's Point, I heard a great noisc^ and saw four or five men scrambling together. I didn't want to see more, for I guessed that some devil's work was going on. "Then I heard a gruff voice cry out. This was as I got up to the spot, and just in time to see that villain, Burgess, knock \юо\- Master Philip a murder- ing blow from behind, and the lad went to earth with a piteous groan." The old man groaned at the bare recollection, and held up his hands before Iiis face as if to shut out the sight his memory conjured up. "Take, time, Jasper," said the doctor, "and don't distress yourself. "I have already told ybu that Mr. Philip is safe." "Thank Heaven !" replied the old man, fervently, "Well, when the mischief was done, I found my voice, and I came up thinking to help the poor boy, but the murderous villains dealt me such a blow, that it will be little short of a miracle if I get through it." Mr. Wouvermanns sat as one stupefied by what he had heard. Yet his own nature was so opposed to all vice that he could scarce believe in the villany thus clearly exposed. Moreover, he was ever slow advisability of a proposed surgical operation: and л , - t ., - , . . - -—, although he was ever ready to lend a hand in the to change an opinion when it was detrimental to the ity, his own private affairs were so character of one he called his friend. cause of humanity v albengrossing that he begged the doctor to excuse him, and briefly gave his reasons. "I have heard news from the Hall," said the doctor, in reply, with a mysterious smile, "for I have my secret police there that brings me informa- tion and believe me that you are interested in the , cure of this poor old sexton more than you can ¡ suppose." "I! How?" "You will learn." Without further parley, the doctor led the way into the sick-room, where the patient was propped up in a large bed and carefully tended by the doctor's shrewish old housekeeper. A great cliangc had taken place in old Jasper Wadlow since you and I were last in his presence, dear reader. The vacant look had disappeared from his coun- tenance, and the light of reason shone there; but with it, alas! were other signs which seemed to indicate that Jasper Wadlow would soon rest in Merton churchyard. "You know this geutleman, old friend?" said Dr. Mathews, taking up the patient's wrist. "No," returned Jasper: *• I have .never seen him ¡ before, to my knowledge." "What do you gather from all this ?" he asked the doctor, presently. "That Mark Wilberforce paid Burgess two hundred pounds to kidaap his cousin, Philip." "Never Г '1 "Or worse," added the doctor, significantly. Mr. Wouvermanns was staggered. Yet, until Mark Wilberforce was proved guilty, he felt it his duty to defend him stoutly. "I cannot yet accept this as the whole truth, doctor," he began, "Why not?" "It is too grave a matter to take away the character of one I have ever believed an honourable, truthful, and upright man, upon the word of a poor old fellow who I lîave known only as a lunatic." "Until now Г "Vntil now." "You do well to admit that," said the doctor, with a touch of sarcasm in his tone, "for at present the lunatic shows more reason than you. No offence ; but I am not or*e myself to accept such a story without evidence, although the character of the speaker goes far in evidence alono. But look how all the circumstances fit into the story as links in tho chain. Take tin: fwts of the case as connected JjJICAlY 1, 1870.J 47 BOYS OF ENGLAND, -with the sailor, .Burgess. This.man, it is clear, has * hold .upön -Wilbcrf orce. He has got money, house, and everything by threats, for there is no shade of generosity in Mark Wilberforce." The, Dutchman jwus silent. 4 Conviction was forcing its way; into his reason, but jet he resisted it to the best of his power. **I have more -matters to convince me than that," said Doctor Màthews. I have reason to believe that Wilberforce^attempted the life of his tool and ■accomplice, Burgess." "Eeally, J)octor Mathews," said Mr. Wouver- manrñy seriously, "I cannot hear such language until I am assured of the truth of this." "Will you have more proof?" said the doctor, growing excited at what he deemed the other's •obstinacy. ^'Ifjou ¿have.it to offer,*' replied Wouvermanns, "Good! You shall." - Hé ßaHcd-the housekeeper, and hade her give the -closest attention to the patient, and then invited his -companion to go with him to the lock-up, where Burgess ivas .confined. When they reached the place, they found two ■men in charge, . The prisoner "had given a great deal of trouble, they said^ he. had fought like a savage beast more than a*man, and they had had to call in extra aid, -and bind him down hands and feet. Thence had: grown very frightened, for the crime ■of which he was clearly guilty was one whose punishment was death by the articles of war. Just now no leniency was shown. So after Jnany threats and prayers, he had per- -fiuaded.them,to-scndT for Mr. Philip -Merton^ who- was ïiow'with the prisoner." v * * '* ~ "Come, now,'-eaid-the-doctor. "and you shall have all tue proof that yon want. , • - • "You had better wait, please, sir," said one of the men, "until Mr. Merton leaves the prisoner." "Are those Mr. Merton's commands, in case any one came?" "Yes, sir." "Very good." After they had waited a few minutes, they heard ■a whining Voice pleading, imploring mercy in abject tones. They heard the wretched prisoner grow desperate in his fear, and cry out aloud for grace. But he had injured the master of Merton too deeply to he lightly forgiven. *' Don't bo a' hard man, sir," he cried, in a voice that epoke of fright and tears both. "Only let me ■off, and I'll make a clean breast of it. It was all .your cousm*s fault, What right has a man of his station to"go and tempt a poor devil? I shouldn't have thought of it, if he hadn't come after me with his dirty money. I was in a sore mess, for I'd touched some money I had no right to, and if I couldn't have managed to replace it before it was discovered, I should bave bcen disrated and tied up on the * Sprightly' to the tune of two dozen ; and he found me out, and worked me up; but, upon my soul, I was dead agin the job, I was indeed, sir." Then they heard Philip say, •* Keep it to yourself; it wül аД come out in the official inquiry. "Oh, sir Í" cried Burgess, "only consider. Two hundred pounds to a poor wretch who was in such a precious pickle as me then." The doctor nudged his companion. "And I didn't mean to hit you that unlucky blow in the scrimmage," went on Burgess, in the same abjpct strain. "It was a chance knock, and, though I ain't no chicken, I always felt sorry for it ; I did, indeed, sir." (To be concluded next week. Commenced in No. 142.) IXGEMOUS Рдопгйл.—Podgers; "The belle is out, and yet the hell remain$."—Snißien ; "Ha ! ha ■—I see—good—and that's the reason, I suppose. why лус hear now-a-days of so many wedding- rings 1" To quarrel with those who have a high reputation for probity and goodness, is to have all the world take sides against us. The Difference between Love and Law.—In love the attachment precedes thedeckiration; in law the declaration precedes the attachment. "How "doth the little busy bee?"—Very4indif- îcrently, we should'imagine, seeing how ofLen it is to be found in tho1 cells. "Deaoon," said д Yankee minister, after a heavy sermon, "I'm very tired." "Indeed," replied the deacon; "then you'll know how to pity из." To Kill Rats.—This recipe is cheap, and never fails. When you retire for the night, place a bit of chqeso in your mouth. Care should be taken to keep the moutluwell open, , and-.when the rat's whiskers wickle your throat, bite. All Communications to be addréAsrd to the /ítíiíor.MR. Kdwis J. Bäett, 17S, Fleet Street, EÏC. , We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the eolamns of this Journal. . Numerous letters st&nd over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents in a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. J* Correspondent» tcho wish to receive replies by post must in ail cases send stameed directed envelopes. An Engineer.—A late writer proves that one Jolm Fitch, of Connecticut, invented and actually successfully put to the test at Philadelphia, in 17«G, a steamboat— that went. It was a slow affair, however, and was pro- pelled by wheels instead of puddles. He was not a rich man, and got up a company «to carry out his plans, lie abo petitioned Congress for aid*but Congress withhold it. The second attempt was more successful—he producing, a boat tnut went eight miles an hour. This was in 1768. The boat was called the *' Perseverance," and carried thirty paasetts'crs twenty miles in three hours and twenty minutes. lu mu, by «reat exertion, he TaUcd the f unite with which to build another U>at, which was a complete Success; but she was burnt after the ilrst trial. Notwith- standing these demonstrations of the practicability of steamboats, the company appears to have got discouraged, and abandoned the project. If itch became poor* and petitioned Congress for aid. He got a patent, however, and received exclusive permission from scleral" States: but it was of no avail, and poor Fitch made no hoad against adverse fate, lie went to England hud Frauco to enlist those countries in his object, but with uo better success. He there revéale*! lite plans to Fulton, who did notforget them. Shortly after he took poison in his despair, and wretchedly died lu a tavern, attended only by the landlord, lie was buried in an obscure corner, and his last resting-place is forgotten. Fulton came upon the scene at hie disappearance; the steamboat again became the topic: and to Fulton belongs the'merit of pushing, under better circumstances, the invention to its triumphant result. He was successful, and received the award that success claims* The effort made in the directum of success deserves consideration \ but the world sees only the one who consummate.^ and so the John Fitches go to their graves, and the Fultons receive the crown. A Father,-" Are boys sent to school to learn how they may make their way throu'gh thy world, or do they go there only to learn the art of hurdle Jumping, cricket, &c.?" It is very necessary that the human mind and body should have relaxation from study, so as to Invigorate them again for the pursuit of learning. But we cannot but agree with you that "all these athletic sports are carried toan excess- that does not speak well for the rising generation, because if this continual muscular exertiou goes on, we shall have our young men weir themselves out in their youth, aud having but little vigour for the work of the world." Ail wora and no play is likely to make Jack a dull boy; but all play and no work will, in ail probability, render him a nouentity A Swihmeu.—We give you the principles, as set forth by the Iloyal National Life-boat Institution, lor the recovery of persons rescued from drowning. They are as follows :— 1. Lav the drowned man at once liât ou his stomach with his face to the ground, and a folded coat or bundle under his cbest. 2. Place your bands flat between his shoulder- blades, and make firm pressure, so as to squeeze the air out of his chest; then tura the body slowly on to one side, and a little beyond; replace him quickly on hU face. Count four to mark four seconds of time, and then reucat the process, commencing by squeezing the air out of the chest again. 3. Wet clothes should be removed and dry ones substituted, each bystander contributing. The body to be rubbed dry briskly, and the face kept from contact with the ground by an assistant. 4. Do not squeeze the air out ot the patient's chest if he is breathing, but wait aud watch, merely drying the body and changing the clothing. ANSWERS TO CltACKEUS No. 158. I. Barbadoes; But-ter-fly, Art-is-an, Itose-mary, Boat- swain, A-ban-don, Uea-dcn, Or-gan, Ear-ring, Sw-al-low. II. Cuidad líodrigo. Ш. Hennapuroditu* î hippopotamus, Hampshire, Paris, parrot, door, hoe, spider, fcJpithead, ship, л , heroism. IV. Under the Old Oak Tiw; drake, turret, renty five years. Ho is said to-have travelled iuto nettle, door, oak, thunder, health, lark, hand. V. Giles ;ypt, and, while there, observing the necessity of raising j Evergreen, Frank Freeland; GriuF, IdleK, LaurA, KmiliaN, A Young Citizen is informed that the freedom of the cltv is obtained by purchase, servitude, or redemption. The i first of these methods Is obviously best suited to your case. The expenso is trifling, about 5s„ wc believe, and applica- tion must be made at the Chamberlain's Office, Guildhall. < Formerly none but freemen were allowed to set up in Î business within the civic limits, and there were manv' vexatious tolls from which they enjoyed immunity. These restrictions, however, have been abolished, and uo benefits now accrue to the freeman, unless lie takes up his freedom in one of the City Companies, liverymen of which enjoy the privilege of voting for the election of Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, and other City magnates. The cost on entering a company varies from £J l"s. 041. to £100, according to tue body joined. The Spectacle Makers' Company is, we believe, the cheapest. # A. Power.-Archimedes, the most celebrated of the Greek geometers, and one of the lawmen whose writings form a standard epoch In the history of the progress of knowledge, was born in-Slcily, in the Corinthian colony of Syracuse, in the year 2tS7 B.C. He was killed when that town was taken by the Hornaus under Marcellus, in the year 212 B.C., au'ed seventy "*' .-..-..-.« VgS * the reach, G. L. J. (Lynn) We do not think that you can demand au hour or an evening of your master if he does not feel in- clined to grant it. An apprentice is bound to obey tiic orders and wishes ot his master so long as that master carries out the indentures; that is, faithfully to teach him the trade or han dicraft to which he is bound. Wc do not think you can demand the hour. Hawick voe Eveiu—You can have the stage, plays, scenes, Sic, forwarded to j'Ou for 2s. 3d., but you must pay the carriage of the stage, or order it through your bookseller's agent. , , , Beddington.— (1.) You bad better place yourself under a Latin master. (2.) We believe there is. (.3.) We have heard it so stated. . „ W. Uyland—(l.) 8, Pa*k Street, Westminster. (2.) Cer- tainly not ; and if permitted, what could you possibly do at youra^e? J. W. Abkaiiams.—We arc sorry we must decline your offer respecting the tale. We arc full oí tales and other matter for Some time to come. -Caswallon.—There was a tale published upon the subject you mention. Hotspeu can send tke stamps to the publishing office, 173, Fleet Street. The other part of his letter must be left, to the discretion of the conductor of the work. Ciiatton Howau©.—Wc rather imagine that Sir James Montague is the gentleman you speak of. William 31опктгоп1>.-(1.) Wc think «Ix stamps will be all that isTcquircd/or the numbers joutant. (2.J Arc you ccrtalu tl.atyougot.no answer to tho letter you sent to the odttor of Uie work you mention? Look carefully down the Correspondents* column again, because the ëatpe courtesy is I'biorvcd on the one 4vork as ой the other, (3.) The acrostic will receive due attention. R.-Cuusoe.-(1.> F.alconcr, tho author оГ-thc\poenr of the "Shipwreck," wrote a .marine dictionary, winch wilt answer your purpose. (2.) All seamen anxious to riso in their hazardous profession by becoming mates, must be able to pass an examtnatloii-as to their efficiency. Chevy Ciiase.-(1.) We place theexchangeti 1д rotation, and make no charge; we bave then done with thém. (2.) Wo are not aware that the .prize tldtcts arc not attached to the numbers. Tney are sent out with them from our office. Tnos. Keïnolds.—(l.) The answer will uo doubt boinsertcd In due course. (2.) Monthly parts of the Uors of the Would can be forwarded for ïd., postage included. Writing rather wild and straggling. Will Landos-.—(l.) Frank Frecland" began in Vol. V. and wai concluded hi Vol. VI. The ..volumes would coat 4s. Cd. each, postage included. (2.) Your handwriting is very good, and would suit any office. (30 YcSt there la every probability of it. Cjesar.x(i.) You will see the time advertised, with full particular*. (2.) ** Who Shall be Leader V" will be com- plete in about numbers. (3.) íí о; and your best aud safest course wili be to consult some medical prac- titioner. A Sûbscbïbeb,—Your case, as you state it, is that the parties have clearly misappropriated the funds entrusted to them. If so, your only remedy is to have them betöre a magistrate, who will deal with them. That Is the only advice we can give you. W. a. liorcE.—Many thanks for your contribution to the Life-boat Fund. A life-boat costs about-£ouo, without including the station. The station will be decided upon when the life-boat is ready. Аьгна and Omega.-You may well call the Suez Canal the eighth wonücr of the world. It has been constructed in the lace of immense difficulty ami dauger, and HI. do Lcsseps may well be prouu of his achievement. But let us see "how it will work," Наргг Jack is informed that no maimed person can enter either the army or the navy. t2.) if you search £ïu.4G you will ¿ce the question answered; and,la conclusion, we hope you will always retain your name. E. II. II.—(l.) There are 11 monthly paru of ".Valentine \ ox" published. (2.) All the prize tickets should be sent lu complete. (3.) The seven wonder* of the world were Inserted in tho correspondence some time £lnce. J. W—The Houses of Parliament were burnt in the year 1834. The accession of Her Majesty was on the 10th June, 1837; her marriage with Prince Albert took placo iu 1810." W. Uaueison—We have received your letter, but there was no enclosure in it. Thanks for your compliments and support. Mato*tue Mill.-(1.) Yes; you can obtaiu what you re- quire from your bookseller. <2.) The volumes will be half- yearly. A Hot of England.—Napoleon I. was born at Ajaccio, in Corsica, 17G9, and died at St. Helena, 1821. Ills remains were alter wards taken to Paris; and there they rest. Old England, - You can purchase a wore, upon pyrotechnics in a separate form. Your best plan would be to order It through your bookseller. < Jack Cade—The arrest of the Ave members took place oil the 4th of January, Ш1. A Life Guaüdsiian ought to know what duties ho has to perform, and abo what his pay is. - J. Holland.-Neither your writing or sraramar will pass muster;. Why spell writing ** weighting?" C. P.. Pulling—We think your handwriting quite good euopgh for a solicitor's office. A SoLoiEn's Son.—Will you be kind enough to inform us when you sent the subscription you speak of? Wu. Mausiull.—Our other arrangements preclude the possibility ot our accecdhig to your request. A Plymouth Boy.-It was on the 15th of November, 1577» that Drake sailed from Plymouth. C. Wahiu'.—We believe, under a recent Act of Parliament, you will have to take out a license. A SuBscuiBKK.- The Princess of Wales wa*;born December Unicokn You can purchase one at Messrs. lioutlcdgc's T. Bell.—Apply to a second-hand gun maker; he will, no douut, be able to supply you*. EdeN, NewfoundlanD. VI.-L I L Y VII.-W IDEA E LEER A Y A It E К VIIL Coma, Lewes, Gravesend, Derby. Correct Solutions Received.— C. T. W.H., William Draycott, James Squires, Henry Stewart, MacJohn Venning, James О. T. Chatto, Old Harry, Francis A. Dent, H. W. Hope, Frederick John Bailey, William Lapworth. HAROLD FORNESS. - Every parale sent to us is acknow- ledged either as accepted or declined, in tho order In which they are received; but, from the great numbers sent to us, much time must necessarily clapao between the receipt and acknowledgment. If you will look in the columns, you will see that we give the month in. which the puzzle was received. With regard to your question, we should recom- mend you to write to the person at tho office. 48 [JâNL'âSlf !» I*"-). BOYS Of ENGLAND. ROBINSON CRUSOE, I ÏÏ К CO M i; IMPORTAIT TI ALL Oil READERS 1 s ль ькьл v Л Н'< hJ(tf "J .■)»;,' *,v:t,4 4H(.v(*í-f"!ij»i by a roui.b b:.ic" ,», y •')., ":w гш<ч1 bd/it-s a** wished b<» d;iv»; Кш,: IV,\> m..l uU 4w,m «l^urt-.-.i f.,r iforfr ■ MONDAY XKXT, DECEMBER ISth. CHAPTER XVI. Ii v,';fc,4 îriri to ywxt with t;iv obi /j-rvrint, but I KxUft Stork* in it wiil кптрюв anything we b*ve yei ALL'S WKix Til \T i;mw WEbb. 1 ¡,r•?, :p а war-Udib.-r ш Mumluy or Cm-„í Ь-íd.iy," 'TUE ПКлТ WlUTKKS OF ТИК DAY of <ЬЛ'щЫ ;! Ь: аЬпц: thrv't "Д-.ч-км, having ma Ь; í-гЫиу -'Ш"Г ■ ,l i ::'v fhil, ' p>v"rr«"" .>t" '!.♦» -v »ч-may. í ",no; <->,<"< • ^ ,*b Uw»Hb«<« Ы "«^чт-*»', U*»n «пдаюМ, at«t .".wwiçâj* . , • „ .. i v W:;h Л » , и \î"'î'n |.)«Г 'i'" uoVoVb 'л * ,» m» / **v w.^-r» у i.,-,' lu» гагу Mid ,i,rtwti.; гл^Шт fu>V í^'wí'íí. ^,гагии:.>' ' '\-¡:i rM-^ilkM,,^; W i. ^ Ari';.;'rv':s: y>,'' "íl'1 'л'Т r ' *rvT'J',] ;st THE PHANTOM КЫЖЬЪ; or, thtry, «,f t -r,t^«a 1 îliv.-r Th.iv^ р..УШу ,4t« .nnh' ,o «. Aüu Muí u WILb HE RETURN? or, tb Strang «houtí'd, in th«ir » my*f]f ar«* V/th as w«íH ha v..m Ы ахрычЫ, if в<4« Hv^í*íjj4'», ./лги Lin-ил;^ л 'bîK-r, v/il'« aiway,^ ¿la\ b, ^ илу o! th" - Аи4 Л «:«>М1С BKKT(4í.*mtíM9 Hil u rr,ih îor ¡ i$oy« of liagiaail wlio may ciiouae tu tküp ín xü . i'Vj«!„y ш;у! Гг!//л. ûmn-r. 'THE MIK"STREb ; or, What Came of Young JJP^aJS^S 4 » *' в '«f t Ii с í Kv,% wf; i«f lh<5 aîx>vc, w« Khali publish an My ir.'-inb ,iud Hv.^.h, tln-n, i,-* th" hi.-tory «-f my п'Ш'лгкаЫ- tbt; »-*;J:*'d du:«,}'. *' ) î'f^'In: ";ilo:,: h уом гояПу înru;; it ЛИ í ! "tlirru "):o:¡ ' -v -í ai: <лс1* is'bnd ; *'Vr". i ht; bt< ^ «... ií ,и•, u'í'4i. ;ц П.У írsi'Uíí-." ;<\n í>>\ í r'v.* \\ í» ,'¡ o . :d! liíi í'.íj/o)' «-ví'r uíb'i-v,;í;-!. \roi; í'Vfr—Л jií''íj. \ ou ¡1('o ¡i' ,( «jn!, I í;ü.< .^/o'/if tíl;t- oí <-vory h!,irk-htt't; íl'»l ».ло1'' m «d. . \Ví 11 ;;o o-i-'i, . о id: dt;í, < 'Г'; » ". 'л-,-,,, r,d ;., - - - , ыо)„Ь: Лг: Í /:г,.г , ь ,,î , . * hîMÛAvi ^ а s il ' ndyunmr*; ш;«Ь thut b.iv.*' b 'urd «Ь..ш, ^ > Uli * .1 N Л.Х j DEAMA» lio jot tbcm \: id; rsui: ('/',.. /,Ь« 0,;уь !/, 3l'/f • 'ШК (ifliUSTMA.S NTMBKU i-Mli^áy ^' 0:-ЬА ^ ЧМ'С i' WiUwe, ...«b,lwUh !'•*' /"imU ЬЦ^^\Г' V/V '' d TWENTY-FOUR SPLENDID NEW ''Ж^^^> - 'Г ^'"~~~*>' ENGRAVINGS. ^^!^f'l ^^liíj* ТШ1П Y-TWO LAiiGK PAGES, ^ '"'f'-'" \'- РРЛСЕ TWOPENCE- b'.v 'I? . ¡ ,o :o/w* I !.at. ;/' 1h.; ;rnt¡HÍ \ > i'"i;s-irk i,b,:, o,r? - f,* • и '." »rtâ ei шив sö t amies* im M.. > П" íüví 'o irisen It-'l'or;« in 0;;r v, v, t , v , , (m!, «' !bi y S i I b E N С Ь A N Ib1' ';r" -!4 "jt* r, l«î i'l'ip f« ]/4í*o ft GRAND liW TALE! KvjTi'U'.o. A STRANGE CAREER; ob, tíí:; !^'dbi'dd'< víddid.\r. bKAUV To-MuiaítAV, No, P oí TUE XîfUÎT ПИЛ BD; , cub líii: лЛдь^кг иг tí Li-; г ¡ vi. ma^k^. V' 'l O ¡i,',,;' W-.rk V, o. K,. j.*, ,. rs, fr ü!*¡ ' '; Uihc, Vv¡,u~l,h\t;rn Vmi'VHMtti oí ih^ рйпщч», с'алг.и,- , i ...j^ ли., if '.ллс i'i ti;i* i-avaribe Vtwrí.. -"bvr i LARGE AND IMPORTANT INCÄEASE ÍO;M»*V Ь./ЯО'Ш|Г,1Ь O! o:;r o)-, Жо longe _____ s "; l,ÎK •**S/':' 'nJL í'-^^' J' í>»^t-.< ,vrd, o^v >>,/o7,vov/¡ boys OF THE WORLD. „:,Лу„М7'.>, /-V,v/ .s7,v,-/. ;(.Et:v|, ÍÍIrrs EVt:E| wo:|i< Abb ï;i.;,. A'; I thi'!; ч :¡4l í í'''o< r 1 or f'ViTy ',ííí( boro,, Aíí'I u*.? i Aíí'í 'b -a ív "ot '-y b , ib\UT XXXV!. id" Díc íiUVS UF HNUbANU 1л NOW JtK.'Jbíb A SPLENDID BIRTHDAY UFT I THE SIXTH VOLUME < Ж THi" XHi; bd.\U^ ny tí! К bdUT!-d AU.MY. | «4Hj V S Ob КХЬЬАХЬЬ î'bH И Г.-:.; иЦ, íiY i'-)-r, 7Г. i'L'irillKK AN!> «.VAL CRUSOES. ;*ind - arf.%. no штоЛЫе í of sinking he tov^'l hnnsclf to something lib* тим r>\n; >■<,/';4í;:l;í"s j^n." { rcsi'/naiiuri. #„, _ !litb- чж w-iii.-ml Им- ;гл1<\J)r<«ba1-Jy ib-, I crew wu'rbi u-turn цшI navigat**. it into port. • XL~~{,•/}////,,/,,//.;. 'Г-m:f-n¡;uíé i to;" 'í ;<,:;:i.¡, !;¡, у ,! v,;i< ^тиЬж-: k:n4«k • Wh- :•. !'.< ,v.v-k< , мп'рШ'Л i-) liu-í fourni {(.м- vtwt*Jt 'liiCHigli roHitig hhíp ;ümu.>i tp¿«,%wm-. BOYS OF ENGLAND. [January l, wo. Hushing on deck, he/found the storm had ceased, and a dead calm taken its place. His first glance was for the horizon. Not a speck of land could he see. The boats, too, had disappeared. They had, then, utterly deserted him. In an agony of such anguish, as a gently itured child might be expected to feel cast Tts upon his own resources, he threw himself the deck and wept bitterly. After a time, however, hope and the love of fe'prevailed. The ship might, at all events, float for many lays, and would probably be seen by some other vessel. He rose to his feet and again glanced round the horizon,, A hazy line in the distance was undoubtedly some kindof land. His heart bounded; but how was he to reach it? Suddenly a startling and thrilling sound attracted his attention. Something was beating against the counter. He looked over the side. It was the pinnace, furnished and provisioned j for a voyage, even to a small mast and sail. 1 Henry Thornton's resolve was come to at once, The wind was aft, and the pinnace, being | admirably built, was very manageable. He returned to the helm, and at once steered for the port he had providentially discovered. In twenty minutes more he was sailing up a river, the shores of which were lined with thick, tangled woods. In half an hour more he had fastened his painter to a tree and leaped ashore, followed by his dog. Their further adventures for a day or two are scarcely worth recording. They made short home excursions round the neighbourhood, discovered cocoa nuts and some goats, one of which Henry Thornton—a very timid and sensitive soul—unwillingly killed. No savage beasts appearing, and no men of any kind, he ventured further up the river. At about a mile above he made a remarkable discovery. The river appeared to burst from a large and magnificent cavern, about thirty feet high and proportionably wide. It was perfectly light and airy, and had several chambers, all deep with water. Here the pinnace was docked, and here for some days Henry Thornton and his dog regularly retreated at night. Gaining courage, however, every day, the Certain premonitory symptoms, a sighing and j young castaway at length shouldered a gun. sóughing in the interior of the merchantman, warned him that the vessel's days were num- bered, and that, at the end of a certain time, she must break up. He collected everything useful that lay to his hand—some biscuits, some cooked meat, several bottles of wine, the captain's guns, some ammu- nition, knives, spoons, and other useful utensils, and lowered them into the boat. It was somewhere about midday when he himself, with a wildly-beating heart, descended into the pinnace. ', f The dog bounded- after him without the slightest hesitation. The animal seemed aware that some great change was about to take place. A gentle, balmy breeze just rufiled the surface of the waters. The youthful castaway was able to hoist the sail, and, being; a tolerable sailor by this time, headed at/once for. the land. He was very grave, and even downcast. Young, of a^delfcate and frail constitution, the peril in which he was placed was altogether dis- proportionate to his means of combatting with them. He had a boat; arms, tools, and some few pro- visions. But he was advancing to an unknown shore, probably peoplediby savage beasts and still more savage men. He had fine weather. . т But at anymomedira storm might arise, such as he.could not cope>vith. Even as he thought this, a purple rippling line from the east might 'Have warned, him that the struggle was about to commence. Henry Thornton, all this time, was, advancing towards the land; / He could/ begin to make out trees upon the approaching shore.4 The wind increased every minute, but ^fortu- nately there appeared no broken, water Between him and the island. His hand was quite tremulous* as he clutched the rudder. It looked very small and very white to manage such a craft. Every moment the roll of the waves, as they poured on towards the shore, increased. They began to lift the boat in a most un pleasant manner. WJiat if there were no bay to run into Î With the increasing wind, to beach the boat was to ensure destruction both to the frail craft and himself. Cliffs rose to view—an unbroken line—skirted , by the usual exuberant reflection of the tropics. Henry lashed the rudder amidships and went forward. f He was going headlong ashore straight at the cliffs. Suddenly, when about half a mile from the shore, he turned to his left and saw an opening. and, taking his dog as a body-guard, penetrated more deeply into the island. Thanks to Carlo, who was pursuing a young goat which tore its way up a steep and winding ascent, they discovered the little cave in the rock, which subsequently he turned into a shel- tered abode. Having a good stout axe, some knives, a saw, hammers and nails, the affair was not, after all so very difficult. The ladder was an after thought, the young castaway having discovered the occasional pre- sence of savages on the island. He then determined to have two exits from his abode. When Ned Summers at length discovered him under such happy circumstances for himself, Henry had been one year on the island, No one would believe," he said, "not my own mother,"—he signed deeply as he spoke— "who saw me a year ago, that I and the sickly- looking, feeble lad could be one and the same person." "You look well enough now, though you are delicate for a boy,V replied Ned, kindly. Harry smiled and turned', the conversation to other matters, particularly their own safety and future plans. This Ned Summers, now enthusiastic and hopeful, readily acquiesced in, CHAPTER XII. HARRY'S ISLAND HOME. The day passed without any events worthy of record. The two young people kept close within their fortress. Their provisions were ample for the day. The time passed rapidly enough, each telling the other his adventures. They were both deeply interested. Night came at last long before they were aware of it. Harry produced *a cocoa-nut half full of oil and a wick,:and-lit it by means of a tinder-box, The oil had been procured from a sea monster of some kind he had shot, the wicks from some fungous fibre. Ned looked on with admiration at the house- hold treasures of his young friend. It was late when rest was spoken of. The master of the house then showed Ned recess where he could lie. For his own part, opening a kind of cupboard, he pointed to a kind of hammock, in which he was so accustomed to sleep that he could enjoy no other bed. Ned wished him good-night and threw himself as he was on the pile of dry grass and skins, nor spoke again until morning. He.then found his companion afoot, and the breakfast ready. To his great surprise, it consisted of some rather tough cakes and a bowl of rich fresh milk. Harry smiled at the other's bewildered and astonished look. "Youwonder where my dairy is," he said, "you shall see all in good time." Ned Summers was far too hungry to ask many questions just then, but contented himself with enjoying the good things set before him. After breakfast, however, he proposed an expedition to discover what the savages were doing. Harry Thornton hesitated and looked very uncomfortable. "Ned Summers, do you know," he said, " that I have a dreadful aversion to shedding human blood. I don't believe I could fire a gun at a man to save my life." And he looked up at his latter and more manly companion. "You shall not be called on to do so," cried Ned, heartily, "I dare say your dog will keep them from surprising us. Oh, yes, Carlo will do that," replied Harry, evidently much relieved. They then armed themselves each with a gun, a pistol, and a small axe, while Ned took a good supply of bullets and powder, from a store at some distance, a small hole which the cautious and unwarliko Harry had converted into a powder magazine. As soon as they were quite ready, Carlo led the way down a steep acclivity, almost entirely overgrown with trees. At the bottom was a small prairie, one of the most lovely of meadows, thickly grown with grass, and on which gambolled some seven or eight goats with their young. They were quite tame, and showed no fear of cither doe: or man.v^ "How is this ?tï ;aske*d'Ned, looking in amaze- ment at his wonderful companion. t "Wait and you will see," replied Harry. Crossing the clearing which was surrounded on all sides by rock's and trees, they came at last to an opening in.the side of-one of the cliffs. It was high at first, the'roof : being ten feet from the ground. : ; л,\ Soon, however, it lowered until at length it was not high enough to admit of theif;walking. The dog advanced boldly and iearlessly, all the while acting the part of. guide. Soon they had "to go down on their knees, until at last it was.a mere-tunnel of about two feet in height. At the end of this was a rude, wattled door- way, which, Harry, -Thornton removing, they- issued once more into thc open air at no great distance from the sea;\' Thornton then explained how he had followed the dog-up this subterraneous passage, and thus- discovered the retread lwhich, otherwise, •,''•. Suddenly, a scries,of shrieks . barst upon thcir cars, and, rising, they concealed themselves be- hind a dense thicket of somc prickly bushes. Loud cries, resembling • flendish laughter, followed, and then a man* nearly naked, with frantic gestures, came flying along. Behind were some ten Indians, the foremost of whom had long swishes in their hands, which January l, isro.J 51 BOYS OF ENGLAND. they administered without mercy whenever they had the opportunity. Ned clutched his gun. "What would you do?" said Harry Thornton, tremulously. "Save a fellow creature—a white man and English officer, from these inhuman wretches." Harry made no reply, but covered his face with his hands. Ned took aim at the foremost Indian, whose hand was raised to strike, and fired. Quick as thought he snatched Harry's double barrelled gun from him, and again let fly at the amazed and astounded savages. Three fell, and when Carlo, astonished at the noise, came dashing to join them, no one remained on the battle-field save the victims. The wretched Petworth had made his escape, while the savages had fled in utter consternation. Keloading his gun and that of his companion, Ned walked across to where the Indians lay. Harry stoutly refused to accompany him, even shuddering at the very thought, nor would Carlo leave his master. The men were quite dead. The heavy shot with which Ned had loaded the guns had told with decision. He turned away rather sick and pale, for the sight was a horrid one, and returned slowly towards the tree where be had left Harry. But Harry and the dog where no longer there. He called after them in a low and cautious tone, but received no answer. He became seriously alarmed. Had the savages returned and captured his only friend, aud already beloved.companion? The supposition was too horrible to be be- lieved. / Grouching on the ground, and with his gun ready for action, he listened attentively. Then a cautious step was heard in the distance to the left. Another cautious step then was heard to the Tight. t What could it mean? He laid himself down flat in order both to listen and see. Then he saw Henry Thornton, with his dog, emerge from a thicket, and hurriedly prepare to cross an open space towards the tree where Ned was secreted.;: Henry looked anxious and alarmed, glancing back every moment.' The dog walked erect, and with cars evidently listening. What was following them? The next instant his question was answered. Samuel Petworth, nearly naked, with a huge stick in his hand, came tearing forth from the bushes in the direction of the youth. Henry faced him with a white and terrified look, which indicated the complctcst degree of alarm and trepidation. "Hand over that gun, you youngster," said the young ruffian, in his most insolent and aggrava- ting tones. Harry stood with his loaded gun in his hand, apparently, cuüte helpless. ItJwas quite clear he would not fire to defend himself from the ruffian who was now close upon him. Indeed, he appeared ready to sink into the earth with emotion. The dog, however, suddenly confronted the insolent intruder, and prepared to defend his master. . The wretched fugitive from the savages lifted his heavy stick menacingly over the noble animal. '« Hold I" cried Ned, coming up and levelling his gun at the treacherous youth; "one step further and 3'ou .arc a dead man." '« Two toonois manly," said Samuel Petworth, dropping" his stick to the ground and speaking with a 'sullen sneer. "Murderer in intention if not in »ict," replied Ned, "away with you, out of my sight, or I may be tempted to kill you even now." "I shall starve," he said, in a whimpering tone. w I have no arms, not a weapon with which to Ш a'bird." "Give him a gun," whispered Harry Thornton, gently. "To be murdered? no. Go; live or die as it may please Heaven," said Ned, sternly. "There are fruits and herbs, and shell-fish, enough to prevent you from starvation. Keep away from us as you value your safety." "We might spare him a little food sometimes," urged gentle Harry. "If you like to give him some occasionally you can; but do not betray your home to him,' replied Ned, in a low tone. "Certainly not," cried Harry, with suddenly awakened fear. "Make yourself a hut hereabout," continued Ned, "and when we have anything to spare it will be brought you. But, together or alone, beware how you annoy or follow us; this is your part of the island. Invade ours, or offer injury to my companion, and I will shoot you like a dog." With these words, Ned Summers turned away with loathing from his treacherous ex-companion. "Go," muttered Samuel, "go, and see if I don't be revenged on you and your milksop friend." Harry Thornton, meanwhile, strode alongside his brave and daring companion with a very downcast look. Something was evidently ready to be said, but he gulped down a sigh and said it not. "You must never come to this part of the island without me," suddenly observed Ned, who had been thinking. "Why?" "That fellow is not to be trusted; he will do us a mischief if he can." "I will be sure to avoid him," said Harry, with a shudder. It was now nearly evening, and yet they did not decide on returning to their home. They had need of food to replenish their larder before they again sought safety within their comfortable and cosy retreat, CHAPTER XIII. I THE CHALOUPE.—A STOKM IN A WOOD. Тпат night the two young friends camped out, sleeping in a large, live oak tree, and in the morning discovering no signs of the Indians, or even of Samuel, they took the opportunity to collect cocoa-nuts and other fruits, as wrell as certain savoury roots, and about an hour before mid-day rested on the banks of a stream, one well known to both, and caught a considerable quantity of fish. This they secreted, hoping to take it home that night for supper. They then held council. The presence of an enemy on the island, and that enemy a white man, appeared deeply to prey upon the spirits of the younger of the two dwellers in that out-of-the-way comer of the world. Henry Thornton, whose sensitive, not to say timid, character, was already known to Ned Summers, was deeply concerned about the matter. "We must dismantle the" boat," he said, thoughtfully, "or he may run away with it." "Certainly," replied Ned. t " Is it far?" "No. The sooner we do it the better," con- tinued Henry, leading the way to a small cluster of trees, covered with a dense growth of creeping plants. Evidently knowing the way thoroughly, he entered the wood, passed round a large tree, and then led the way under the leafy arches of the forest to the banks of the river so often men- tioned. Ned followed closely in his track. The banks of the river were easily reached, and skirted by the two youths. Ned Summers was astonished indeed when he came to the great water cave. He then followed Thornton to a spot where a pathway led them into the hollow. There lay the boat. It was of considerable size, and capable, if well stocked and victualled, of enabling them to make a considerable sea voyage. This, indeed, was its great value. But that was not to be thought of for the present. Thoroughly appreciating the views of Henry Thornton, Ned Summers proceeded at once to dismantle the craft. They selected a high shelf in the rocky cave, nearly obscured by deep shadow. Thornton clambered up, and stood upon a small ledge of stone, while Ned handed him up the various contents of the pinnace. They then carefully examined the boat, and removed a plug in the bottom, used when the craft lay high and dry, to allow rain and other water to run off. The plug itself was carefully concealed. Having thus provided against the loss of their larger vessel, the two youths then left the banks of the river, and, satisfied that the savages had departed, determined to further explore the island. Carlo was to accompany them. Henry Thornton proposed that they should, as much as possible, avoid the neighbourhood in which they had last seen their white enemy, who was capable of still being on the watch. The youth shuddered at the very mention of his name. "You have never been to a boys' school," ob- served Ned, with a laugh. "Never. Why?" "Or you would not be afraid of such an arrant bully and coward as Samuel Petworth," con- tinued Ned. "I never fought in my life, and do not want to," said Harry, looking quite timidly in the- other's face. "Don't think I'm not brave be- cause I do not like fighting. If you were in. danger, you would soon see." And the boy quite blushed with enthusiasm as he spoke. Ned laughed, and told him he was a .glorious fellow. After which they started in search of further adventures. Ned had no particular objection to roast and boiled goat flesh; but he at the same time was quite ready to vary his diet. Henry proposed that they should explore a part of the island he had never yet visited, which he believed might perhaps furnish them with some game and fruit. Ned was quite willing to make the experi- ment, so the two at once left the neighbour- hood of the river, and took the direction of a distant forest. They already knew that an island-with such a climate must be very fertile; and Ned, there- fore, was in no way surprised at the discoveries he constantly made of its vegetable wealth* Henry, who had not read so much in the style of travels as Ned, related his surprising dis- coveries with naive admiration and astonish- ment. ) He considered the discovery of potatoes grow* ing wild to be something wonderful. Ned laughed again. Henry, all the time be was talking, was making for a grove of lemon trees in full bloom, where he proposed to halt during the extreme heat of the day, which was now far advanced. Ned was quite willing, and so cast himself down in the shade. A hearty meal of meat and fruit having been consumed, they took a siesta, leaving Carlo on guard. When they awoke, the extreme tropical heat of the day had passed, and both felt refreshed and ready for their expedition. For some time they made their way along a winding kind of path. This, however, suddenly ended just as some heavy drops of rain warned them of the approach of a serious shower. The wood was not many yards distant. It appeared to be composed of singularly large trees. Running as fast as they could, they were soon under Ac umbrageous foliage, which was huge and wide spread. Scarcely were they beneath the leafy arch of forest, when not only did the rain come down with the force of a torrent, but vivid flashes of lurid lightning illumined the scene, and terrific claps of thunder were heard, Henry Thornton shivered. "We must get away from here," said Ned Summers, in a firm and determined voice, "Why Г HOYS OK KNOLANJ). BOYS OF ENGLAND. 54 [JANtJAIlY lt 1S70. BOYS OF ENGLAND. BICYCLE BOB. By the Author of *' Giles Evergreen," "Nobody's Dog." ** Feed Fäolic," " Wildfoot," &c, &c. CHAPTEIt Y .—(continued). AVING satisfied himself that no one was watching, old Pepper took up a shovel, and, moving away a quantity of the coals, stooped down and picked out an iron handle, to which was attached a crucible. This he put upon the tire, and then proceeding to the bed, wheeled it away from that part of the wall against which it stood. Then, taking a bunch of keys from his pocket, he selected the smallest one upon the bunch, and* passing his hand over the paper, applied it to a portion of it. Turning it very carefully, a door, not large enough to admit a man's head, moved noiselessly upon its hinges, and exhibited a dark space. "J know where I put you," he muttered, and, stretching out his hand, he took something off a shelf that was within distance. It was a large, massive spoon, which he held up to the light. "You arc a beauty, and you came nicely packed up in the fat. Ah! that kitchen stufic is the finest dodge if well carried out; it never tells tales. It is a very fine crest to look at, but I don't care about such things." And he thrust it into the crucible that was by this time getting red-hot. Then, sitting down, he watched the progress of its melting, while at times a gleam of satisfac-1 tion shot from his eye. . "If they come home all safe to-night, the others must be set to work to-morrow to get rid of all identity," he muttered. The handle of the spoon had scarcely melted and the crest disappeared, when he was roused up by the tinkle of the bell leading from the street door. "That's Jack, and now all's safe." So saying, he rose, and, going through the shop, he said— . "Is that you, Jack?" "Yes," was the answer in a feeble tone. The next moment the door was opened and Jack staggered into the place. His face was cut and bleeding, and altogether he presented a pitiable figure. Old Pepper hastily shut the door and fastened it, seeing at a single glance that something had gone wrong. y "What's the matter, Jack?" he said, as the boy sank into a chair. "Broke my arm," was the answer. t( Better that than your neck, Jack, " was the philosophic remark of old Pepper. Give me some drink or I shall faint clean off," said the boy. Pepper went to «a cupboard, and, taking out a bottle, poured some brandy into a glass. "Try that, Jack, and then I don't think you will faint." , The spirit quickly disappeared, and, in a short time, Jack seemed to revive. Old Pepper sat for a few minutes watching him. "Things have gone queer ; the fun has not suc- ceeded?" at length he said. "Yes, it has, but we have had a narrow squeak of it. Jem Baxter and Ned Green have made it all Tight." "Ah, well, then things are not so bad as I thought." "I don't know that." Here he gave a groan. "What a fool I am," said his uncle, starting up; "let me get your jacket off and see what is the matter." The. jacket was soon got off, and the shirt sleeve turned up; then the old man passed his hand over the arm and shoulder, and in so doing causing Jack to make a few contortions of his face. "No bones broke, Jack ; shoulder out a little, that's all." Old Геррег gave it a sudden jerk, causing j Jack to call out. 'There, you will be all right by the morning," said his uncle. I shall be all right when I have something to eat, uncle," replied Jack. It was not long before some bread and meat were placed before Jack, of which he heartily partook. You see," said he, when asked what had taken place, "when we rushed into the room the old ladies set up a most awful scream, and one of them threw up the window and called out so loudly that we thought it best to run for it." "A very wise resolve, Jack," said his uncle. "Then I could hear the wheels of a bicycle coming along, and a shouting out for the police. I know who that was, and, by all that's good, he shall pay for it." "And who was it, eh? Did he see you, or any of you?" and, for the first time, the old man j showed an alarm which he vainly endeavoured , to conceal. | "The chap that came up was no other than that Bicycle Bob — Bob Beady at the factory close by. I don't think he saw any of xls; if he did it's all over with me. He owes me a grudge, and I owe him half-a-dozen." "Ha, yes; we must watch him. Well, and if he seems inclined to pay off his grudge first, we must" "What?" and the eyes of the boy looked with a gleam of wild ferocity upon his uncle. > "Stop 7¿im, Jack!" was the mild answer; "and in such a way that no one will be any the wiser. Now, then, do you get to rest ; and, then, in the course of the day, we'll sec about this Mr. Bicycle Bob. It shall go hard if I don't stop his riding, if he interferes with us. So to bed, my boy, to bed." Jack, tired out, gladly obeyed his uncle, and, going into an inner room, was not long before he was in bed and asleep. Not so with old Pepper. He finished the process of converting the once elegant spoon into a mass of silver, and consigned it to the mysterious closet at the head of his bed, carefully locking the door, and wheeling his bed back, as before, close against it. That done, he replaced the crucible under the coals, once more heaping them over it again, and then he threw himself upon the bed in his clothes, muttering— "I might have some more visitors to-night," and more than once he started up in the bed, fancying he heard the signal known only to him- self and some few others. The next morning, as the clock struck nine, the old-established rag and bone shop was again opened ; and very shortly afterwards Jack Pepper, junior, was seen lolling against the door-post with his hands in his pockets. About an hour after this, a young man, well dressed, carrying in one hand a black leathern and over the other arm a railway gave forth a faint light ; but, the old man touch- ing it, a brilliant light shot up, illuminating the whole place. "So you are safe, Jem," said the old man, "and you didn't come away empty handed," and he slightly touched the bag with his foot. "No, I seldom do that; but we had a smart run up the lane; once up there, and in the Hansom in waiting, the articles were so snugly stowed away that no mortal could ever have found them unless they had smashed the cab to pieces. A capital device of yours, old fellow," and he smacked the old one-eyed bone-dealer heartily on the back. "Ha, ha, sit down, sit down ; you know where to find what you want, while I examine the con- tents of the bag," was the reply. The man took down a flask of brandy from the shelf, helped himself to a glass, and con- tinued: "A smart shower of rain came on as I and cabby dashed away; I was rather annoyed, though, to see a ragged young urchin, who cer- tainly did not belong to our lot, following the cab. Cabby gave him one cut with the whip, and would have let him have another, but the youngster avoided it by turning hcad-ovcr-keeh on to the pavement." Old Pepper had been carefully examining the contents of the bag, but he paused for a time, buried in reflection on hearing the strange tidings. While this was going on, Bob and his master had made up their minds what course to pursue with regard to Luke. "There is little doubt," said the latter, "that the self-willed, unfortunate boy has been lured into the scheme by that imp of mischief, Jack Pepper." "Of that I am certain," replied Bob, "be- cause I saw them together within a few hours of the burglary taking place. Besides, I ran him down easily upon the bicycle; how he got home without detection surprises me." "If the officers get the slightest hint of that he is lost, Bob," said his master. "I know that, sir ; and you may depend upon it not a word will escape my lips only to you upon the matter." "I'll take an early opportunity of going to the house, and seeing into the matter; but everything must be done cautiously, Bob. Hang it 1 here comes that inspector again." The inspector was accompanied by a ser- geant, carrying a blue bag. They walked into the factory, and then the inspector took the bag, and opened it. "How many lads have you, Mr. Stout, at present working for you?" he said. "Five, without counting in Bob Ecady and Abel Sampson." "Are they all here this morning?" "Yes; they are steady lads and never miss time," was the reply. "I'll stake my existence that not one of them was in that affair last bag, and over the other arm a railway rug, slowly came up the street. At the sight of this person Jack gave a peculiar night." whistle, looking up at the clouds as though he *' I dare say not. I have never had any corn- was conversing with a flock of pigeons. plaints against them. Call them up." At that sound old Jack Pepper sent the two To call them by their Christian names would men who were in the shop out into the yard, ;have been rather puzzling, because, strange to On seeing that, Jack at the door gave another say, that out of the five, four of them bore the whistle of a peculiar kind, and then the traveller name of Jack. walked slowly into the shop, and through into j Bob, therefore, proceeded, in his own way, to the little room at the back. !call them by the names they were known by in Then a cupboard was opened at the back of the the factory, said room, the shelves of * which were filled with large dishes and plates. Not a word passed between the pair; but Pep- per, kneeling down, passed his hand into the darkest part of the cupboard, when the shelves, with their contents, moved gradually open and disclosed a flight of stairs. Over the stairs hung a lamp just giving out sufficient light to anyone about to descend. Old Pepper, followed by the traveller, went down, closing the door carefully after him. They descended about some twenty steps, and Io, they were in a large room comfortably fitted up. At one part of it there was a fire-place, which had been skilfully contrived so as to consume its own smoke. Here a gas burner hanging from the ceiling The first he called was Burly, and a tall, thin boy came up looking very like a thread paper elongated. Porpoise was the next ; and if anything, he was thinner than Burly. The next was named Pug in consequence of the resemblance his nose bore to that nearly extinct dog. Then came Lightning, so named from tho crawling way he had of going about his work. Then came Muscle and Head-over-Hecls—tho latter coming up in his usual manner—significant of his name. As they were all ranged in a row, the inspector could not suppress a laugh at the oddities that stood before him. "Now, my lads," he said, "you have heard of January i, isro.j 55 BOYS OF ENGLAND. the burglary that took placo within a short distance of your master's house. The place was first entered by some five or six boys, disguised with masks; but that was only a ruse for the burglars to have time to steal the plate, all of which would have been taken but for your shop- mate, Bicycle Bob." "Bravo, Bob, success to the bicycle," was the cry of all in the shop, for the men, surprised at the entrance of the policemen, had struck work and crowded round to see what was the matter. The officer now took out a couple of very com- mon-looking caps, and a respectable-looking wide-awake. First he tried the .caps upon them ; upon one head the cap refused to go only on the top of the hair; upon others, the caps went down com- pletely hiding the faces of the wearers. "The caps don't belong to any of you, I can see," said the inspector. Then came the trial of the wide-awake; upon none of them did it fit except the boy named Pug.t If it had been moulded to his head it could not have been a more complete fit. "This seems to belong to you, my lad," said the officer. "Does it though, it's a trifle above my cut; I only wish I had sich a one for Sundays, I might take a turn or two in the park," and Pug grinned at'the idea.! ** This is no laughing matter, my lad," said the officer. . " Where were you last night ?" he said, eycin g the boy attentively. "Why, he was at home along with me and his mother, and the rest on us," said a man, pushing his way through the rest. . ■ "What time .was that?"' "Why, from the time that he left off work to the time that he went to bed." 4' You are his father, then?" "Well, yes; anybody can see that with half an eye, who looks at us." There was but little doubt as to that, for no two noses were ever more alike; and when the Wilder Pug appealed to his shopmates respecting the likenesses, a roar of laughter broke from all. "You are sure this boy was not out at all last night?" The laugh had rather nettled the temper of the officer, and he spoke sharply. "Yes, I speak the truth, just as though I was upon my oath. He was not only at home last night, but he hover goes out at all on any night. I ain't .a going to have' him" ruined by the streets iit night. That's' what crowds the prisons, and the hulks, and-—-" "I'll take your 'word, my man," said the officer. "And you may take mine in addition," said Stout. "And now, I hope, this is the last visit I shall receive from you respecting this affair." "I have no doubt it will be," replied the officer. "I haye been to where this hat was purchased, but the man has no recollection to wOiom he sold it." During this conversation Bob had taken up the wide-awake, and was looking at it. JJe know to whom it, belonged, and he was examining it to sec, Ц any initials were inside. Luckily there were none, and therefore all fears of its identification was at once set at rest. "Do you know anything of it?" said the officer. "How should I know, sir? There are thou- sands like it. Why, look here," and Bob clapped it on his head, "you see it fits me better than it does Pug." "So it does," said the inspector. "Yes, but you see/* and here Bob ran into the counting-house bringing out his own, "you see, here, is mine, and you see there is not a shade of difference between them. He held them up, and every one declared that no person could tell the difference between them. 'At this the officer returned them again to the bag and took his way out of the factory, amid the ironical cheers of the men and boys. Bob walked slowly into the counting-house, followed by his master. "That is Luke's hat." he said, " I could swear toit." "I thought as much," replied Stout. "Yes, and I only wonder that none of the boys recognised it; though I am almost certain one did." "Aye, who was that?" "Muscle; he gave me a very peculiar look, which I quite understood, but I can trust him; and, although he and Luke have had more than one word together, he is not the lad to betray him." "I don't think there is a person in the whole factory would do so, Bob." "I agree with you, sir." "I think now I'll just go over and sec how the poor woman is getting on; no exertion shall be spared upon my part to save the son from ruin." At that moment the clang of the dinner bell sounded. "This will be a good time to go, Bob. I leave you in charge. And with that, along with, his workmen, the honest, stout-hearted engineer went out, mixing with them. The time had passed very heavily and painfully in the house of Mrs. Craft. Sad enough to say, the worst suspicions of the poor woman had been confirmed. That her son had got himself in some trouble . was quite clear to her, and now all that she could do was to try and save him from the evil con- sequences. Alarmed at what had occurred, Luke, sullen and obstinate, kept to his bed and refused to rise. After ;the, visit of , Mrs. Craft to the factory, she, upon her return home, went into his room. He started up at the sound of her footsteps, and threw the clothes from off his face in which he had buried them. "Well, Luke, do you feel better, now?" said his mother, looking at him. "Better, yes! Why, how you startled me." "Startled you ; why should you feel startled? The sight of a mother ought never to alarm the child." "Well, but you don't alarm me, only" "Only what?" "I don't feel very well." And he turned his head upon the pillow. "You went out last night and came home worried. What occurred to you then, Luke? Will you not tell me the truth?" And his mother looked beseechingly at him. "I have told you the truth," he replied. "You do not look me in the face, as a child should the parent, when you say so," she said, piteously. It was true what she said. He had, during the whole time, kept his head covered over with the clothes, as if he was ashamed to meet the eyes of his parent. "I have heard that last night a number of boys, masked, broke into the house of two ladies, and that a burglary was committed there. I do sincerely pray to God that you were not one of those. The police are doing all they can to arrest the perpetrators, and——" She stopped, deeply agitated, fop it was clear to her that he was one of them, for his trembling under the clothes was a proof of it. At that moment there came a loud knock at the door. The imprudent boy started up, and with a blanched countenance, and trembling hands clasped together, said, "Save me Î save me! I am lost!" She started up at this with a suppressed shriek. "You are one of the guilty ones, then?" she said. "Hush! be quiet. I will do all I can to save you, for it is only a mother's duty." She moved towards the door, trembling in every limb, and went slowly down the stairs. She gained the door. "Who is there ?" she said, in a faint voice. "John Stout," was the reply, in the well- remembered accents of the worthy engineer, and her heart leaped with joy as she heard it. The door was opened and he entered; and then, with a trembling hand, she put up all the fastenings. "What are you doing that for, eh?" u To keep them out," she replied. "To keep them out 1—who do you mean?" "The officers," she said, in faltering tones. "The devil—stuff, nonsense—is the woman mad? Undo the fastenings!" "No, no; if they come it will give him time to escape." "Ah I I see you know all, and further con- cealment is useless; but supposing, the officers did come, this very act of yours would arouse their suspicion." And so saying, he undid the fastenings himself. "Where's Luke ?" he said. "In bed, ill.—Oh, sir, what is to be done? In the name of heaven help me," she replied, in imploring terms. "That is what I have come here to do. Tell that boy to rise and dress himself and come to me," and as Mrs. Craft went upstairs, he walked into a sitting-room and sat down. "You have not come to give him up, have you?" she said, on her return. "I shall give it up altogether if you say such a thing to me again. Go, do as I tell you." Mrs. Craft went up again to Luke, but he was so obstinately inclined, and so ashamed to face his master, that no persuasion of - hers could induce him to rise, until the voice of,his em- ployer sounded up the stairs. "It will be the worst day's work .you ever did, young gentleman, if you don't come down, and that quickly." "What does he want with me?" he muttered. "I suppose I must get up." At this his mother left the room, and rejoined the old man below. "He is coming, sir," she said, ' entering ^the room. - "Ah, that's right; and I hope.he won'tvbc long. I am so busy, that I can't afford toboso much time after him, I can tell you." At that moment the handle of the door slowly turned, and the door itself as lingeringly opened, and Luke stood scowling at them. Come in," said Stout. "Don't stand scowl- ing there." And as he sat close to him, he took him by the collar of his jacket, and swung him into the room. * "Where did you get to last night, youngster?" Luke made no answer. "Well, I'll save you the trouble, and the: shame of telling. You were one of the boys concerned in the burglary last night,"; said Stout. "I was not," replied Luke, sullenly. "Don't lie; it is the root .of all evil; one lie is only the forerunner to ii hundred others, and the first step to the——V, ^ "Oh, sir, don't speak so harshly to.him," said his mother. L^V * "He must be spoken Iharshly; to, there is nothing else will save him," was the reply. In the disposition of Luke Craft, obstinacy reigned predominant, and, although alarmed at the idea of old Stout speaking of the real cause of his discharge from the factory, instead of his being suppliant it was just the reverse. "I say again that you were one of the boys out last night, and concerned in the attack upon the house." t "I say I was not, and I dare you to prove it," was the reply. "What 1 then I will at once send for Bob Eeady," said the old man. "Ah, that is the fellow that has done it, eh, a • sneaking cowardly cur." "Don't add insult to your bad, loose conduct; you know that you were there, and.so lies ;will not any longer assist you ; the only thing that is to be done now is to try and save you." "I shan't want your assistance, and, what is more, I won't have it." 4*, "Luke, Luke, you are mad," said the almost distracted mother. "Ah, you have just hit it," said .Stout. « Now look you, my lad, I am past the age to stand any nonsense, especially from yoit" and he gave Luke a peculiar look that at once told him that his old master was serious in the matter; "you had best make a clean breast of it, or matters will be worse for you." The recollection of the false cheque that he had uttered flashed across him, and at once the HOTS or !•;>:<;ьлхп. 57 A STRANGE CAREER; |М; .«;:hi«-r? "Mr. Wii-< n. U hot. а 1« ,a¡;íy—not ¡ *теа1ш»% »r»d da-0;<:d tî.fbaek nf his Land in her y banbeom*.', ï menu — m-ither i* ние |»ur- : fa<*e. Tb<' brutal Ы«»w ииы bave U'«vn tivrve ami H:vül;ii")\r laily: but you кЬаП kvî Îht, ;iu«l Jifa : Ь:;г-Д. far th«* woman 0 ПО YS OF K!\GLANlh TUB "LABOURS OF HERCULES/' • •usvje.r y, ;;,;.»,; HOYS OK ENGLAND. "Wbv k- Trï:i;:,.,v ,a.aak ika.n ÍKT ÍÜ к'П*<еГ» *" ïuu lud un.: kirîîtttri yum hand," к mi n v. ii)->4-v, V, :-h Я .тг1'* ''v» Ki'l- Vo»t ;г,д1); ;n,:.Ty к -pl. >' I e '»^ fN .ptrw." and '-fi"- fuViael and ved. "Vf/ (,a,l w ',•«■:• у., л! »I ?-k tk' •dd Mr. £líte¿, iiovv lurekp, î.o \VI ..:;/Ынн1г;у expression, In v\ kce w; PHILIP'S PERILS гЗ У LAMO А N H S ef А - d'. i е<е te the corpse Ii "ífcti the citizens í"<" -SV,. i¡ ц ее -"ev p.ki i,-'; Il \еаа ihk4;; but Y- a;, м î iH ilhv'ii: vim) л ] ■ r?r nrnth^r'tTy's т. op, • i' - '¡<>--к al. ¡i. h>* eivpt. К , 'ir!, by an m); k/,kiyki duU", .IL'i Wt.íiÍ 'амарЬ k.<' ;.v.',v b.;j lekeea >ai wb-n k% klb í,„d bk «'«¿rv. k:C> rhmj* i; im tu í;Í)ü;'í I y fear» M î :si;;'"'' lí* 4t;iv her«»/* Ь<- wk" í¡^r.:ii-.k кнеечк ;.iM»u: Ытп/ "4 Pitt W U'.« h 'Ь'. S W, , f y"i*» If sh«: Kl"hM ÏH" >k VíMllM r.JÎÎ (i*-.-. ^ '"!,ил' ">"baî ,í емгеаа ib wbee, kkau:eb, k <: üiiíbt.' v.'í.v *кем?Ч;ь kki, íra'I .de* "wwvl biíti wilh pa^joWv'* f«*ar, ",." '' îk íuee.ki eee\ out tin; bgk. Tí;* n Ii»* !jí/ív;jf -dy operad tee" • Ьи,г. " ea female figure that ûUaaI traient and srjii. at the doorway -ekbdae Ami lu- Mmmî hefor«.». ML^ Wie* -kr: v,,!44'i\ Л woman k a woman m цгЛ.м , ■!* <'xp I,'" i:, t!:- •.ViT/tl-s whv-h !b?T hear* «-.l-fd f,4- "' ,! 4 î y>u , y!» • tu,;î ",;" ^ i v,iy ¿dio hurrieJ. ^VhíllííW н|)пш,1! :iiter bor, ^h'.1 таг;, mul lie followed, with Sophy еШн:!яя' . b,uif,;,'" They r^tcbecî f,li*'tv n , î»i>«,ti z« M.w Sti--^ ú>r; Liid -veuicd tit la-it tu Luíl m. her ¿Lt|iJ. J Tîfi'f; Kir ;.t«^iî» in Ih" ;,*]'i-v .>f Dip It,'/;' '-míí •iîiiinr» опг from the shop. Several of the pvpi-j! -^м!;,' к,. Ь'ЛГь I 1 *» i i-lira!;; -ai'! on.-- ; 4'yo:i b-e. WbH.bw? h"f-n liilkiliy abi'lit yn«', Ya'í'í! li«ívM '<< м-í 1 u.c: i Пи;.; <\«.я", V/.-''.с Ьм./í; fiihiî"* ::Ь. it. Л ;-',v' Ьдл tKjtiii arreted already. The *-vb^ne/.' i"i.yñ| >vmu hiw. ütlteb fdüLá ш yon we: v.'eüj ;V Ьy * Iи lu L .M ^úlL-y í peak? j • ■•mîm ont- te- ar.oihrr» arel v t she *Ы iv"t --к1*", ;i VMjrd.'! 'Пи* d---etr-t was aoon in attenuanee from aire, ¡ •; ,■ .'г-л\¡'L - ,\ «wx)b> of pani.1y«i,V* be ?abl U*Md«>vr цп;: furlner íni'J líl-e, ,e. 'лее €;e:neug »,er Veîrjv.tfliv too f;tr," Ь-5 | ", Ь,Ье•«.•!'♦ -i. le e«.|.h\ V; ear,' j * ^ - ♦ » I Aiiitth* г гили мгал proved to the cutk;. pa; 17 I • ,Miv. ;-'i'e;/ rt'í'MVí :V(| ; ;u.m íi¡..¡s ( « .r(¡!;,". \\' ч- I 1 ,',v ;m«î s,., hy Î.S-i'! wer" Ьмр-т,,-} i:í.r ... ч;.ь -! < ;"'Г ' ее-' :eed iu 1<с Iwkíi'.:: а 1':Ч f,r v.bí.-h "i | '' ''\ vr f i "П„, гф| Ггт)ГТРЯ11 r^kr-í ее;.И. *,vma tb;- rmiM.« е; '".Vsr, .. e e миг. itf y ^ :*; ;л' г '" ,' • j 'ï'-" t'iin'i игл. шепЬт I" rs"; , ii « М*.;и,к7,',)гГпу i.';r.v ;i ht е;у" le««ree .ni.. '— | ''..mi, 1е--е^Ы ее -ин!. aí^-r П шм \ ";!.•■ ¡;e л;е.1 r*tí*ï h*« 'ee^.^i e - vmv;;:, ;«e,« th- "V";-. i:, M /. V'/mu'.-t•!'•:,:ií;í¡ e m :i,.- гм e mí Ue- !i, Г, '. :>,.- I and he made at oaee for the 'iîeht îr;i veîl'r" carri.iy"," h 1 ;-:e«"* f«- ¡ni- iif ihv им-nv ^ :lJl;■> *■ \'en Next, Mark nroceeded to secare у .M^iMfT-.- valueh) j. rr;,'.],-, - - . , .. effects as he had not already got ,.■.',.„,. about his person,. ;' ' This done, he hurried down uî'f'ul, a^hed her rrhrto her mis» í ' [ - .i' e ее/ • r< I :,!.;'e e-i î-e . ií у,, у,.ГТГ(ГТП . « hy • ** t v>me with î ;i re.uu e.eîeey np ;' T'r.«- y:ri е<( V i;.î ;,îî *,<) în« ч ,'»-rv lee'je'n] :5ftV'. ¿keie :tn*«H:,i'{n;iyf ee>' viuv wt-nn.-- <ï*.-4î, ", ;,r;,î be Г»»п'»ч{ ;t fanyfe to keer rhpf iî wa,4 a rare an uf lt. Thal 1Л thiíallaek uptm hhn hy -: *^<''^ h.e was |iltyi« };rea; ,ее. le-; eü.e «'hî.]1; Ь-Ч<1 рч ' luv {ич| «aar» if In be"1- f'ek e :*» he- . , "< re've i:\ ïhîmhearti iia, "ív imi' Г;и- I• ti !-.' ем;>' Tl. - ее а di be to double your wages.." "CJii, sir în said the gîd,, and off she ran. Mark made off to the gates whence he liad ik ( a-d И],, и, шкшее Im b-fi\ ü^-mrt I .e»a : еЛ Uaae- к kk íkde¡-a ara] • he Teak'é1 in fernrlf»h nnxiety. ip in the wk-îe i "NrHber^ «»r»- nur the kiter have kept my ren- ...v. , d«'/.vnu.-.y*'t," k*y muUervd гм>1]м*а1у. as he watched -ел - л ,. a- «-u M.ek V\*;;k?4vf-re«a :eel ka ¡ *efankeeia e«e a, -, ,k v r> aa .aa*af," j The »«;ordv w-ry bar«»îy ntter« »h when there was a etïi te- lead*- е., мк„Ча . í егхчЬ i» the ktreby and'ont sprangBurpw, the late еаеаечк ie,„ e-ie.i ь.м; Lee:у.^ud persuade. ¿ prôner, —lía- ей-, ,. e k< ». ем,? Ш)е;: 4' îf=e*e Ï nee" he « kl, "1 v,f.lîere "eme íímh>, '"î.'fily Í rornd eol чЗ>мее tip îifît-'l îki? угегея è-ll.ev VML4 ^,,ги;— и'.'л* \\ lee, I,- upV 1 piaeiae.^ <• Г4<*мнеа a;«a'í 1 Га".',т; а; е-s piaeel^"; b¡e, iil, ¡e^ a^'ï abary ее* mí tte.-e f"r f .b.p'f f» al t-леу ie my mtnd nie;! 1'vü eeen ibe h.-r. t í * tí* <íiihap^>y Mi гЬаь" **Jt wosT be long," returned Mark, looking e-ik fo ïla- î к;,.- he" *" ■) '' i - Shtí. whù??" , ^" ib í с h y a,o 'm i h' Ие г ;e «I yoii^ vk* ! per-rer, ín ШС eeee¡e.eee tnen yon eee,« ам ,)fi<\ tUiw ja-tt; кчк p/ea iî a e ik . "м- ebee /;кее;.- b я-' • • ,Mi!«i like te нее fbe кИк' i>u;:l"p Лгпн -e, ai еае.кег, not befo», If Thi • t'a- Je, » a к ", imMI im I ^ '.'¡a * ■■id h ra" I ara here I 62 [January l, 18*0. BOYS OF ENGLAND. you should be challenged on the road, lash the horse on the faster. For now we play a last stake of fortune or utter ruin. Hush! here she comes." The next instant a light footstep was heard, and a timid voice called "Philip Г "Wait !" whispered Mark. The two ruffians, scarcely able to control their impatience, stood actually trembling as the beast of prey that scents its quarry. "Philip!" "She won't come nearer" whispered Mark, in a voice thick with the subdued excitement of the situation. "We must make sure of her, or she will turn tail." He stepped suddenly out and faced the startled Gretchen. "You !" she exclaimed aghast. "Yes, dear Gretchen," he answered. "Whom did you expect? Surely no other man than your betrothed on your wedding eve." "Mr. Wilberforce," said Gretchen, firmly, "that can never be—I have already told you so. If I have caused you pain l ean but regret it; but it is not delicate or manly in you to press me so against my wish." "You don't love me then?" "Ko! Nor did I ever j the marriage was entirely my father's notion. I was not able to resist him as firmly as I should have done, else this misunder- standing would never have occurred." "No matter," said Mark, biting his lips nervously, "you'll take kindly enough to me after marriage." I "Never!"' %! "You will by He nodded his head. Gretchen heard a footstep behind hor, but before she could turn round to sec who it was, she was seized in a powerful pair of arms, and lifted bodily from the ground. In an instant she was thrust into the carriage; the door closed and blinds down, and the carriage whirled off at a dashing rate. And all this so rapidly effected that she had not even the presence of mind to cry for help. "Now, my darling," said Mark, his evil eyes blood red with passion, "speak mc fairly—be less unkind to me, my betrothed, for the time may come when you shall go down upon your knees to beg me to marry you!" The poor girl, pale as death, shrank in fear and loathing from her captor at this brutal speech. At length the veil was lifted, and she saw Mark Wilberforce in his true nature. But, alas I the warning came too late. In three minutes I shall leave Merton. Is it too much to ask of yon, love, to beg a farewell word? I wait to know my fate by the large gates upon the east side of the Hall. "I am, dear love, till death, "Your own Philip'; "Ршыр." mind in ai "I know the traitor! That CHAPTER LV. THE PURSUIT. ThreiÍ gentlemen came strolling up to the Hall, chatting agreeably as they walked. Just as they got near the house, they heard a great clatter of hoofs, and a carriage dashed by and was out of sight in a trice. One of the stablemen came running out at the noise, thinking that it was the bay mare bolting. "Who is that ?" asked one of the gentlemen. "I don't know, Dr. Mathews," replied the man; "but I think it be th' mare boltin.'" "No, for I saw a man on the box, quick as he was." "Then it be Mr. Wilberforce, for he ordered the carriage." "He heard the news," said Philip, "and he has fled before we could get back. Well, I am thankful for that." "And I too," said Mr. Wouvermanns, "for it would have been very painful to mc, considering the re- lation in which we stood to each other." "I'm only sorry the rascal has got off so easily," said Doctor Mathews; "for when I think that his vile conduct succeeded in making me doubt your honesty, Philip—ugh !—and not only that, but it has succeeded in making Miss Wouvermanns miserable through her father's stern notions of honour. ^ Let us ease her mind, poor girl, as soon as possible." "I'll go to her," said .Mr. Wouvermanns; "and henceforth I shall distrust my own judgment. Verily, the soft sex are keener judges of character than we lords of the creation." He was gone five minutes-they appeared fifty to Philip,—and then returned looking very excited, and holding an open letter in his hand. "Gretchen Î3 not there," he said. "I only found this letter in her room. Perhaps it will explain." He handed it to Philip. The letter ran thus :— "Dearest Gretchen,—I cannot fight with fate. Everything is against me. Your father believes that I am false and that my cousin, the villain Mark Wilberforce, is maligned. Until I can prove my, truth beyond all question you will see me no more... The truth flashed across instant. That is not my writing," he said hand well. It is he—Mark, the carriage! Who did it contain?" "The villain !" gasped the Dutchman, aghast. These words sufficed to show both the last speaker and Doctor Mathews the true state of the case. Now the man of action showed the result of his sharp training of the past few years of his life. While the doctor and Mr. Wouvermanns were utterley stupefied by the dreadful truth, Philip was prepared to take the necessary steps. Without a word he dashed up to the stable door. The man who had harnessed the mare for Mark Wilberforce was there, and out he ran at the noise. "Saddle me a horse !" cried Philip. "Which, sir?" "No matter—a fleet animal. The best you have." "That's Phoenix, sir." "Don't waste time in gossip!" ejaculated Philip, "Do you hear, it is life or death. What are you staring it? Do you hear?" # :*' The man, quite startled, obeyed with alacrity now, and before he could tighten the girth, Philip had' vaulted into the saddle. "A whip I" he cried. "Here, sir." It had barely touched his hand when it came down upon the beast's back, whistling through the air as it fell. The horse leaped madly forward, and the start would have unseated some riders, but Philip was as though glued to the saddle. 1 Off and away I The horse, filled with terror at the punishment its flanks received, dashed on madly, running off with its rider. But little cared Philip so that it bore him in the direction desired. Two or three minutes were passed, and more than a mile of ground was traversed as though a few yards had merely been got over. And then he sighted a carriage in the distance. I At this moment the pace began to tell upon the poor beast, and its flanks beating heavily, it dropped into an ordinary gallop. Now it was that Philip showed want of judgment; for, instead of husbanding the beast's strength, he plied the whip, and goaded it on at so mad a pace, that presently it stumbled. Philip felt himself going, and with the quickness of thought, leapt from the saddle as the horse reached the ground, and so probably saved himself from being crushed to death. "Woundihj well done!" said a voice close at hand. Philip glanced up in surprise, and there stood Farmer Turmuts, looking at him over a gate. He had not noticed the proximity of the farm in the heat of his wild race. The fact is, that the noise had drawn the farmer from the house, and he had arrived by the gate just in time to see the horse and rider down; but he did not perceive at once who the rider was. "Why, it's Farmer Turmuts !" cried Philip. "Ay, that it be, young sir; and I know your face somewhere, though for my life I couldn't say where ." "Myname is Philip Merton," was the hurried reply. "Why, lor' bless my soul!" began the farmer. "Have you got a saddle horse to lend me?".said Philip, interrupting him, "This poor beast is done for." "Ay, that I have," returned the farmer, "thanks to your goodness and generosity. I shall never forget it." "I beg you will for the present," interrupted Philip. u Listen to me, farmer: that carriage con- tains my cousin Mark. He is carrying off a lady against her will. He is a villain; and I must stop him. Now, then, your horse." "A' right, sir," replied the farmer, leading off to the stables. Since the farmer lived rent free, all his luck had changed. Not only was he spared the heavy burden of rent, but the crops had been most propitious, and he had made, in the course of eighteen months, really astounding progress. Now, his stables were excellently well furnished at the present, for he kept a heavy, big-boned horse for himself—he rode at fifteen stone, well counted—and had a smart fleet mare besides. The latter was saddled in a trice for Philip, while his own horse was got ready by another man, "I mean to join you, if you'll have me," said the farmer. As they were waiting, two huge bloodhounds were brought in by a lad, who had a hard job to hold them in check. Philip was very fond of dogs, and he caressed the two animals, remarking to the farmer as they licked his hands in acknowledg- ment— "They seem to know me." "So they should, sir," replied the farmer, "for they wor yours before they wor mine. It was the squire, your uncle, that give 'em to mc. I've had 'em since they was no bigger nor that, young pops. Let them free, Reuben," he added, to the boy. ik There's no danger with Mr. Merton. We're obliged to keep 'em fast, as they frighten some folk, for they're fierce fellows; so I put 'em here to guard the stables. There's been some London horse thieves up to Merton latterly." The horses being ready now, the two mounted and rode out into the road. Just then they saw three or four horsemen coming along at a gallop from the Hall, and although they were some distance off, Philip easily recognised in the two foremost riders of the party Mr.Wouvermanns and Doctor Mathews. "They're on the same errand as we arc," said Philip to the farmer, "but we can't wait till they come up. Off and away!" Off they were, too, at a gallant pace, Philip shoot- ing rapidly ahead for the first half mue, but after this the heavy horse showed he had more stay in him, and gradually drew upon the marc. At length not more than two hundred yards separated them from the carriage, and they could positively hear Mark's voice inciting the driver on to fresh exertions. The carriage was knocked from side to side on the uneven road, that Philip's great fear was now for Gretchen's safety. Every instant he expected to see the carriage overturned. Another desperate spurt brought them level with the carriage; and now the farmer pulled his power- ful horse right on the flanks of the nearest of the bays, and seized the reins. "Let go I" cried the driver with an oath. And ho dealt the sturdy farmer a vicious cut with the whip across the head and shoulders. The end of the thong caught the farmer a tingling blow upon his cheek that brought up a hard ridge of flesh. But Farmer Turmuts only winced a bit, and promised the man he should pay for it. The two hounds had run all the way with the two horsemen, and, seeing the way their master was treated, they yelped at him as though to ask if they were to take summary vengeance upon the offender. But just then came a startling sound. Philip had torn open the door without dismount- ing, and found Mark Wilberforce looking pale as death and his face distorted with evil passions. As Philip appeared he snatched a pistol from the seat and, levelling full at his cousin, fired. But Gretchen, with a piercing shriek, knocked up his hand, and the Shot, instead of doing murder, grazed the mare's neck, and sent her careering back with such suddenness that Philip was heavily thrown. The farmer leapt from the saddle with the agility of a man of twenty, and thrusting his brawny arm into the carriage, he seized the would-be assassin by the collar and dragged him bodily out. "You shall hang for that job," said the farmer,, sternly. "There, doan't ее wriggle wi' me, or I may cheat Jack Ketch, dong ye!" So as Mark was not to be persuadedrthe farmer threw him, Lancashire fashion, a fair fall, and then knelt heavily upon his chest. A great outcry was heard by this time. The second party of horsemen was insight ; but heading the whole was the boy from Farmer Turmuts place holding like grim death on to a rough pony, with never a saddle or bridle. Burgess, looking round, saw that it was all up with them, so he slid from the box and scampered off as fast as he could. Now Mark, as he lay on the ground cursing his hard fate and the farmer's hará knee alternately, caught sight of the sailor ; so, vicious to the last, he cried out— "That's Burgess going off I He 11 do you yet!" "Will 'un, though!" shouted the farmer's boy, leaping from the pony. "Ii that be .old Burgess what's got out of the round-house I'll have 'un and get the reward. Here, Rosey, my lass ! » Rosey was one of the hounds, and she bounded up to the boy at the Found of his voice. "Now then, my lass," said the boy, "I want you to bring me'back that sailor chap. Smell well after him, lass! Bring 'un back! After her, Snaffle 1" With a deep baying response, the two hounds dashed in pursuit of Burgess, and from that moment his case was hopeless. Two hundred yards of JAKUAllYl« 1S70.J 63 BOYS OF ENGLAND. ground were barely covered ere the bitch had leapt upon his shoulders and rolled him over. Two bloodhounds were better guardians than the gaolers of the ilerfcon round-house. This Burgess found to his cost! ******* "You are all well, my darling," were the first words uttered by Mr. Wouvcrmanns, upon gaining his daughter's side. "Yes," replied the girl; "only very frightened," and she burst into tears. Where is Philip ?—he is not hurt?" The answer came from Doctor Mathews, who was kneeling over Philip, and anxiously examining him to see if any bones were broken. "All right my dear," he answered; "only stunned-and shaken a bit. See, he is coming to. I dare say he would like to see Miss Gretchen near him when he opens his eyes." The young lady took the hint, and even gave the doctor a grateful glance in return for his words, and took Philip's head in her lap. Then hç very soon opened his eyes and feasted them upon her fair face; but seemed inclined to rest in this position long after there was any actual occasion for it. ****** Now the majority of the party present were for conveying Mark Wilberforce off to gaol at once, but Mark, who lacked the courage only of your out- and-out desperado, fawned and crawled before his cousin, imploring mercy. So said Philip: "Let him begone. I am the person the most injured by this man, and so can surely have a word in this matter. Let hira promise us not only to leave Merton, but to crose the seas and quit England for ever, and he shall go free." Now a great outcry was raised against this; but Philip would not be gainsayed, and Mark, who trembled for his bodily.safety, upon seeing the strong manifestation of feeling against himself, was easily brought to promise—and, what is more, he kept his word. Philip aided his guilty cousin with con- siderable sums of money—a fact that no one ever suspected. Before the party got back to the Hall, Philip and Gretchen were betrothed. The former had saved Uer from worse than death, and her father could no longer oppose them, even had he felt so inclined, which, be it said, hè did not. Moreover, they took an unfair advantage of his pliable humour to fix the wedding day for one week hence. There were grand doings at Merton Hall that night, I promise you. Such a gathering! such carousing! such feasting and merry making! had not been known since the old squire's time. The joyful news seemed to give old Jaspar Wadlow a new lease of life ; for, in spite of Doctor Mathews* opinion, he rallied, and was at the Hall for the wedding of the young squire. CHAPTER LYI. CONCLUSION. Before I lay down my pen, I should give an account of an adventure which occurred to the hero of this veritable narrative, and which should be possessed of considerable interest to those who have followed "Philip's Perils" from their commencement. The court-martial about to be held upon Burgess, the sailor, forced Philip and his bride to spend their honeymoon in England, for the former's presence -was indispensable. Now, a new point of martial law was raised over the matter in question, and the case was one of great interest. So much so, in fact, that Philip found himself the object of an unpleasant deal of atten- tion wherever he went. They were staying at an hotel at Portsca for the! first fortnight, when the adventure occurred of which I am about to" speak. Upon the twelth day of their stay at the hotel, a half-caste presented himself at the hotel, and asked for a room for the night, and as soon he was regu- larly installed, he asked a great number of questions respecting Mr. Merton. The questions were thought very natural; for, as I have said, Philip was a great deal talked of at the time. Subsequently one of the persons of the hotel re- membered, and with regret, having told the half- caste that his room adjoined the bedchamber of Mr. Merton. That night, when all the house was sleeping, Philip was awakened by a noise at the door. It was not a loud noise, but sounded vastly like an attempt at picking the lock. • So he sat bolt upright in bed and listened. He was not mistaken, for the lock turned fairly round. This he saw by getting out of bed as quietly as possible, and going up to the door. Then he saw that the door was only protected by a small brass bolt, which Gretchen, more timid than he, had provi- dentially shot before retiring. Philip now heard some one breathing in the' passage. "Whoever it is,"thought he, "they try stratagem and fear violence, so we are safe." He spoke correctly, for in a minute the attempt was given over, and the boards of the corridor creaked with the weight of the mufiled feet retreat- ing. Philip began to ask himself if the attempt would be renewed; and to provide against an emergency he fetched his sword and laid it ready for use. Nearly half an hour passed, and then a very curious sound drew his attention to the window. Sword in hand he crept up to the window, which was open, and peered out from behind the curtain. He could not understand how any danger could possibly come from here, as it was a good thirty feet from the ground. However, he waited patiently, and then he saw a dark figure wriggling like a monkey along a narrow ledge or shelf under the window. Reaching the sill a pair of dusky fingers clutched it, and the sinews tightening, the figure drew itself up to the level of the window. Then it was that Philip, startled at the sight of the half-caste face, and the memories it called up, gasped the name of "Cokolo!" The Malay heard the sound, and his black eyes flashed in their deep sunken sockets. "Get back!" said Philip, "you're not wanted here." A sharp stroke of his sword lopped ofi: the fingers of one hand, and with a fearful cry the wretched man fell back into the street. The whole house was alarmed in an instant, and Philip gave a hurried account of what had occurred, and the causes of the enmity the Malay bore him. A party started down at once to find, as they thought, the mangled Temains of the baulked assassin. But the body had disappeared. A trail of blood put them upon tho scent, and they followed it up to the edge of one of the basins in the Docks. The wounded wretch, doubtless, had managed to crawl away in the hope of hiding until he could escape, and in the darkness of the night had fallen into the water, and so ended his sinful life. So finished the last of Bilboo's crew. In spite of his strong will and daring, it was a battle with destiny in which he had engaged, and in the end, as you have seen, he was sure to be defeated. A few days later the court-martial was held, and it went hard with Burgess. From end to end of the fleet it was certain he would suffer the extreme penalty, but Philip exerted all his influence, and at length succeeded in saving the wretched man's life. But his fate was scarcely less horrible. Hogging was the pet punishment of the day, and Burgess re- ceived a portion that had to be continued from day to day. But my pen refuses to pursue the sickening details. Suffice it to say that he met with his full deserts. And so with the end of Cokolo and the dis- comfiture of his епепиез in general, Philip's Perils have come to an end. Some men are like cats. You may stroke the fur the right way for years, and hear nothing but pur- ring. But accidentally tread on the tail, and all memory of past kindness i3 obliterated. "Mary, my love," said a not very attentive hus- band to his wife at the dinner table, "shall I help you to a piece of the heart?" "I believe." said she, 'that a piece of the heart is all I have ever got from you." Sober Second Тпоиапт.^А confirmed toper once made it convenient to call a peaceful gentleman a liar. "Will you challenge him ?" asked one of the gentleman's friends. "No! I'll wait," returned the injured party, wisely, "and see if he does not apologize on sober second thought. "You'll wait in vain," replied the other, "for he's never sober long enough to take the first thought." A Fast Witness.—A. New Orleans paper relates a scene in a court in that city. The mother of the defendant was called, and testified—" I am the mother of Mrs. ;; she is my only daughter," and then went on to give details. The next witness was anxious to show his legal knowledge, and imme- diately after being sworn, he broke out with, "I adopt, corroborate, and reiterate everything the previous witness has said." He was required to repeat this, and his cross-examination then began. "Do you mean, sir, to say that you are the mother of the defendant?" "Oh, no, no, no I" was the reply, and the whole court burst into laughter. taliers im í\t Jugmimts, *♦* Original Contributions only are required, and must be accompanied by name and address. Any puzzle or charade received after this date, and found to have been copied from other publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from the same person will be accepted. No Puzzle mill be accepted unless the Solutions areproperlu worked out Numbered Charades in particular must have full answers sent with them. I am composed of 29 letters. My 13,26,29, 10, belongs to ships; my 6,16, 28,1, is a river in Prussia; my 22, 17, 18, 6, 20, is a large water fowl; my 4,11,23, 7, is to exhibit to view; my 24, G, 13, Is a nickname; my 25, 26, 27, is cured meat; my 19,14,4. 2, is a river in England; my 22, 12, 26,3, is part of the human frame; my 26,15, 5, 8, is a river in the south of Europe; my 21,25, 8, 9, 20, is a prickly tree; my 27,12, is a personal pronoun; and my whole will give the name of a celebrated tale published weekly in the BOYS OP ENG- LAND. E. W. EEER3IUND. II. I consist of 14 letters, 2 words. My first is in camp, bat not in war; My second's in chisel, but not in saw; My third's in assembly, but not in flock; My fourth's in alarum, but not in clock; My fifth is in dirt, but not in mud; My sixth is in tree, but not in bud; My seventh's in snow, but not in hail; My eighth is in water, but not in pail; My ninth's in multitude, but not in host; My tenth is in grave, but not in ghost; My elventh's in west, but not in south'? My twelfth is in nose, but not in mouth; My thirteenth's in danger, but not In fright; My fourteenth's in candle, but not in light; My whole is a talo in the BOYS OP THE WORLD. . W. F, Trinder and W. J. Sumner, hi. Л county in England; real ; a river in South America; long-lived; a river in England; a continent; ripened tc* softness. The initials read downwards, and tho finals up- wards, will name a Scottish hero who was executed early in the fourteenth century. William Bell. IV. Л nation this for heroes famed* A river in Asia this is named. A river in China this is—mind 1 A country in Europo this you'll find. A town in India this is named. A country in Europo for beauty famed* A name given to Paddy's Isic, And this a city in Britain's Isle. North of America this country you'll find, And this, north of Kussia, bear in mind. In the Mediterranean tfiis will be found, And in North America this, Til bo bound. And tiiis, a river through Germany flows South-east, as every school-boy knows. The initials is a Journal—you will find— Of literature, to instruct and amuse the mind* ', William/Bell. v. I am composed of 1С letters. My G, 5, 7, 3, 8,14,14,9 is a fruit ; my 13,2,1 isa horse; my 13,12,4, 7 is part of a prison ; my 1,4, 5, IS is a colour; my 10,16,14,8,12,16 is to bo found all over London ; my 13,14,5,11,16 is part of a loaf of bread; and my whole is to be found in the BOYS OP ENGLAND. , JONATHAN LlNFORD. VI. The name of a precious stone ; a Turkish festival ; a large country in Asia; a Spanish coin. The finals read upwards give the name of an animal peculiar to the American con- tinent. _ _ Thomas Platt. VIL The name of a musical work; an empire in the East; a port in the Mediterranean; a people ot Italy; a province of European Turkey; an ancient town in Spain; a large- river of Italy. The initials read downwards give tho name of a gentleman who does much for the moral culture of tho youth of this country, and tho finals read upwards give the name of an eminent Italian composer. Joseph Kettell. VIII. A province of Sweden; an island in the Mediterranean; the name of an English king; a city in Franco ; a seaport in tho West Indies; a town in India; a domestic animal; a lighthouse on the coast of England; the name, of a volcanic mountain; a country of North America; a mountain in Greece; tho name of a Homan emperor; a river of Russia. The initials read downwards iorm the name of a first-class tale In the Boys op England. josepii Kettle. IX, I consist of 18 letters;,4 words. My 1, 7,2 means to purchase ; my 4,8,16,3 is opposed ta cold ; my 2, 5,13,14,16,17 Is a gentleman farmer; my 3, 13,15,1 is a sepulchre; my 12,4, 9, 6, 7,5 is an order for money ; my 4,13,15, 8 is a domicile; my 14,13, 10, 5, 2 is prized by many; my 18,13.11,9 is a potion ; and my whole is a celebrated tale in the Young Men of Great Britain. War. F. Trindeb. 64 [JANUAST I, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. ily first is a town in Franco; my second is a town in "Wales, where a sad railway accident happened lately; my third is a vast beast (plwral number) in the East Indies^ armed with a horn in front ; my fourth is a native oE the new world ; and my last is a river of France. The initials read downwards spell a town of France, and the finals the river upon which it stands. J. A. MITCHELL. XL CRYPTOGRAPH. Nu. Hqbxe 0. Iuiicc. Qhrtj Lxu,—X bxlq jvt hkhuj ltzzhll xe zveqtzcxep cgh IVJL VY HEPWREQ, bgxzg xl, xo lmxch vy rww cgrc grl ihhe lrxq req buxeche rprxelc xc, 11R Jvtep Phecwhnre'l Ovkuerw vy Lmvuc, Curkhw, Yte, req Xelcutzcxve.1' X rn zhucrxe cgrc rww cgvlh bgv qhzxmghu cgxl lxww rpuhh bxcg cgh rfykh, req ouxe nh xe bxlgxep xc "R wTvep req bxqh zxaztwrexve. X rn, jvtul cutwj, Q. N. BRWQXH. ли A DIAMOND PUZZLE. A consonaut ; used by archers \ first appearance ; cavities în the earth; notes ; a Scottish hero ; shaking ; ungrateful; vivacity ; a unit in cards ; a vowel. The centrals will name a Scottish king who lived in the fourteenth century. William bell. ANSWERS TO CRACKERS, No. 159. I. Johnson ; Jamaica, Oporto, Hooghly, Nankin, Sussex, Ontario, Normandy. II. Hannibal; Havelock, Albert, Napier, Ney, Inniskillen, Byron, Alexander, Llewellyn. III. Captain Mayno Reld; Canterbury, Aberdeen, Prussia, Tonbridge, April, Inkerman, Nelson, Major, Asia, York, Northumberland, Edinburgh, Radnorshire, Eddystone, Ivanhoe, Dublin. IV. The Lad who ЛУоп the Victoria Cross; hornet, raven, toad, ass, ostrich, whale, lion, cow. V. Richard Grey, the Armourer's Apprentice; grey, mate, copper, copy, Huron, entice, Omagh, aaieu, chase, hire, arm, rue,* Bafe, error, her. VI. Paul Derwent; Pyrenees, Arabia, Upton, Leicestershire, Danube, Exeter, Rhine, Wigan, Etna, Nile, Turkey. VII. Carp-entry. VIII. IX. S В APE RAT SPAIN BADEN DIU SEA N N *-* All Communications to be addressed to the Editor, Ms. $ Edwin J. Beett, 173, Fleet Street, E.G. *»* We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal, Vе Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents in ashorter time tlian three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. ».* Correspondents who wish to receive replies by post must in ad cases send stamped directed envelopes* «C. Cbedcloüs.—The incident you refer to occurred in 1855. In the ship's report of the British brig Absona," Charles L. lüchardson, master, arrived at Liverpool, from China, appeared the following entry by the captain, relative to the great sea-serpent : -w September 4, lat. Gô ö., long. 13 E At & p.m. light wiuda and smooth water; observed broken water on the larboard quarter, about three ship-lens th'a . .distance; when presently the head and part of the body of an enormous sea-monster appeared, about thirty feet above water, In an angle of about sixty degrees. Ills head was long and narrow, eyes not discernible. From the tip of his snout, twelve feet. On each Ше оГ his head was a white streak, of about one foot in width, which I suppose to be his mouth, which he kept shut. About six feet from the termination of the white streak (or jaw) there was a protuberance on his back like a small water-cask. Ills body, at the surface of the water, was about the size round of the long-boat. Underneath his jaws there was a quantity of slack skin, like unto the pouch of a pelican; It was of a lighter colour than the rest of his body, which appeared quite black, and free from any description ot hair or bristles, being quite smooth. He appeared to be about 180 feet long, as near as could be judged, and water broke on several places along his body, which I thin* must be occasioned by smaller protuberances to the one behind his head. He was visible about fifteen minutes, during which time he went under water about three times. He keot moving his head from side to side, making not a straight, but a serpentine course through the water, just keeping way with the vessel. From the position in which he lay Jn tho water, the length of time he was above water, and being so close, I have not the slightest hesitation in saying that It was tho celebrated great sea-serpent which I believe was last seen by her Majesty's ship 'Daidalus/ Jnl849or 1850, between the Cape of Good Hope and St. Helen's." T. Cantlet.—You are too old for a berth on board a ship. No persoft Is admitted In the navy after u years of age, and your not having any knowledge of navigation would, at your age, preclude you from entering tho Merchant Service. С. Coole.-(1.) Wc sometime since inserted In the corres- ponding column directions how to make tho various coloured fires. You might be able to purchase the article you want at any of the firework makers In St. George's Road, Southward. (2.) Your handwriting is very good. A Tykesider.—(1.) Edwin John lirett. (2.) John Pym 'was a Somersetshire gentleman, born in tho year 1581. He was Instrumental in the Impeachment of Strafford. To read the lile of Pvm, you shonld procure Clarendon's History. (3.) The Battle of Maratón Moor was fought between the Cavaliers and Roundheads. C, DuvAb.—(1.) We cannot inform you. (2.) The tale of «* Clive was very much liked, and was historically correct. (3.) Your handwriting requires very great improvement bemre it Is suitablo for any situation. John WATKtNS,-The causo of hydrophobia has hitherto baffled all research. It Is certain it is not heat alone, nor thirst, nor hunger, nor any combination of these, since every attempt to developo it by such agencies has failed. It is said to be more common in extreme northern latitudes, where the ground is almost always coverod with snow, than in warmer climates, and hence some have argued that cold weather favoured its development. This theory is not supported by Observation, but it is nevertheless certain that the heat of the dog-days has nothing to do with causing the disease. It has recently been asserted that the bite of an angry or otherwise excited animal may produce hydrophobia, without tho existence of specific virus; but the statement seems to be founded eolely on the imagina- tion of Its propounders, or of the persons thus bitten. It is important to bear in mind that the symptoms whtch.aro popularly supposed to be peculiar to hydrophobia are found also in other diseases. Because a patient has a difficulty In swallowing liquids; because he is intensely susceptible to currents of air or waving motions; or because it Is fancied he has desires to bi'e, or snap, or howl, or Imitate a bark, let no one conclude that death is inevitable. Such symptoms occur also in tetanus, and are found in some forms of hysteria; and it is essential, in every case, that л careful diagnosis be made by a competent physician. T. R. В.—Thirty years aso, the electric telegraph was next to unknown among the world's public. In England, the date of Its practicalestablishmentwasln 1838; in America, it was introduced in 1844; in France, 1846; and in Ш1 tho telegraph lines were first down in India. Itussia did not commence her telegraphic existence till the year 1853. Now, the telegraph has lines in every quarter of the globe, including 2,000 miles in Australia, and nearly as many in Africa. Russia has Unes from St. Petersburg to Pekin, and the Sea of Japan, and is continuing them to her northern possessions at Behring's Straits. In Ш8, the western Union Telegraph Company, United States, alone had 50,700 miles of line, with 3,331 telegraph offices, and G.400 persons in their employ. In Europe there is estimated to be one telegraph office to every 45,000 of its population; in the United States there is one to every 7*500. The pro- portion of messages to the population Is set down in Belgium as one to seven; in Great Britain, one to each five; in America, two to each five. The proportion of tele- grams to letters in England is one to 121: in Switzerland, one to G9; in Belgium, one to 37 ; In the united States, one to 22. The total numberof telegraph stations In the world is estimated at 12,000, with constantly increasing demands. The wires in use weigh 05,000 tons, and are stretched on 7,500.000 of posts, iho capital expended in the telegraph business is set down at £17,000,000, givmg steady employ- ment to 38,000 persons. Bhitannia.-(1.) We believe Mr. Morphey is considered to be so; but whether he is In England or not we cannot say. (2.) We believe £3,000 Is the yearly salary, (3.) In all probability there will be, but we cannot at present say. (4.) Tho Board of Revenue settle that, according to the quantity distilled. H. Claude.—il.) Vour handwriting is very good, and suitable for the situation of book-keeper. It is legible ami devoid of all flourish. That only tends to distract the man of business. (2.) We have a tale of school days In pre- paration, which, we confidently hope, will be liked, and still further raise the Boys of England Journal in the estimation of its numerous subscribers. Pantaloon. —We have repeatedly answered the question respecting the.Insertion of the exchanges; they are in- serted free of charge, and then we have done with them, and are not responsible for anything that may occur after- wards. Music.—We regret we cannot advise you what to take to strengthen your volco; perhaos rest for a time might bo of service. Consult юте skilful medical gentleman and he may be able to assist you. Bunion.—We have, In some of the early numbers, inserted a remedy for corns and bunions. Search the correspon- dence carefully and you will be rewarded for your pains. A. M use and.—We arc sorry we cannot assist you. There is a Mr. Hunt professes to cure it, but Ave do not know his address. Will Wike.—Her majesty has been pleased to confer the honour of knighthood upon Mr. Cooke, the celebrated electrician. An Emigrant.—We believe you can purchase a work on emigration at Messrs. Sandford's, book and mapsellcrs, Chariug Cross. T. Chamberlain.—The Monument is 202 feet In height; St. Paul's 300. Salisbury Cathedral is 404 feet in height. Л Subscriber.—Wc have no doubt your wishes will shortly be complied with. C. W. West.-The gratest breadth of the Atlantic ocean is three thousand mlles.: T. H. Panteb.-(i.) It is not mentioned Ir the book of Holy Writ. (2.) We cannot give you the address you ask for. SPLENDID COVERS FOR BINDING VOL, VI. OP THE "BOYS OF ENGLAND." Are Now Ready. Prico Is. 3d. NOTICE TO THE NEWS TBADE, Mr. Edwin J. Brett's works are publisJied only at 173, Fleet Street. ALL BACK NUMBERS CAN BE HAD. PART XXXVI. of the BOYS OF ENGLAND IS NOW READY, With a Splendid Coloured Picture of THE FLAGS OF THE BRITISH ARMY. PRICE Cd.; OR, BY POST, 7d. IMPORTANT TO ALL OUR READERS! OUR GRAND CHRISTMAS NUMBER IS PUBLISHED THIS DAY. The Extra Stories in It will surpass anything we have yet produced. THE BEST WRITERS OF THE DAY, Regardless of expense, have been engaged. NOTICE I THE GEAND CHRISTMAS DOUBLE NUMBER OP THE BOYS OF THE WORLD Will be published on WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER THE 22nd. SOME OP THE BEST AUTHORS OF THE DAY Have been engaged expressly, 'and will contribute to its columns the following eplendid seasonable and thrilling stories:— THE GHOSTLY CHAMPION. THE THREE VISITS; or, the Spectre of the Old Grange. TOM STANBEKBY'S DOCr: a Story of Retri- bution. THE DETECTIVE AT ЕАТГХ.Т. With a great deal of other entertaining reading. IT WILL BE PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY OUR BEST ARTISTS. OBSERVE I The Christmas Double Number of the "BOYS OP THE would;' ORDER AS EARLY AS POSSIBLE. READY TO-MORROW, No. 7 of THE NIGHT GUARD ; e OR, THE SECRET OF THE FIVE MASKS. With this favorite work will he given, from time to time, Pull-Length Portraits of the principal charac- ters, on plate paper. Those who desire to take In this Favorite Work, should GIVE THEIR ORDERS AT ONCE.' NOW READY, .' , TITLE PAGE AND INDEX TO VOL. VI., PRICE ONE PENNY. A SPLENDID CHRISTMAS GIFT! THE SIXTH VOL.UM OP THE "BOYS OF ENGLAND." Elegantly bound. Price 4s. NEXT WEEK I We shall commence a series of stories, taken from authentic, historical sources,'entitled, TRUE TALES OF BOYISH BRAVERY!; Everyone should read them. v , , Printed by Kelly and Co., Steam Machine, Law and; General Printers, 15, Gate Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, and published for the Proprietor, Kdwh J. Brett, by A. W. IIücicett, at the Office, 173, Fleet Street, B.C. i'<'Nih; r.v khwin j, иш-ггт, 66 [January i, is70. BOYS OF ENGLAND. No doubt its volume was greater in con- | sequence of the heavy rain. | Both filled their gourds and drank. The dog floundered in and bathed with joyous gambols. They then crossed the stream, which ran out from the pool, and began a steep and rugged ascent. Henry Thornton stumbled at almost every step. Ned knewthat to proceed much further would only be to utterly upset him. He therefore looked about for a halting-place, and soon found a sheltered nook, where a num- ber of stones were piled one upon another. Here, utterly exhausted, they cast themselves upon the ground and slept until morning. 'Ned ivas on foot at once. Fortunately they had a small supply of meat left, and, with water, made a hasty meal. "Ah I my poor goats," sighed Harry, as he drank water and thought of milk. Ned laughed. "How do you feel this morning?" "Better; but sadly in want of a day's rest. Let us get back to the fort." "Willingly; but first let us throw these wretches off the scent. They are devils incar- nate, and will follow us for weeks, unless thoroughly baffled." "How is it to be done?" "All about here is rock and stone ; follow me, and whenever you sec a blade of grass avoid it, in this way we shall leave no trail." The dog, at a sign from his master, gambolled on in front. The poor fellow was literally as hungry as a hunter. Presently, after sniffing the ground with eagerness, he took to his heels, and darted off in the direction of a small wood. His masters followed. Suddenly they were startled by «wild cries and shrieks, accompanied by rfierce and savage growls. Henry stood still. "The savages:!" "No; 'tis Carlo and some wild animals— come," said his comrade. Ned ran on in advance, and the noise becom- ing louder and louder, he soon found himself on the field of battle. Field of battle it was. Carlo, savagely hungry, hadf sniffed a party of monkeys, and darting suddenly into their midst while engaged tin eating isome Toots had seized hold of a plump, little, young cub, nvhich he proceeded to devour, without 'taking counsel with its unfortunate parent. For an instant the amazed and*startled, mon- keys flew in all directions, utterly terror-stricken and aghast at the strange sight. V, Next minute jnaternal feelings tqokithe place of fear, and the mother flew at .Carlo>with .white, gleaming, and chattering'teéih'. v The dog, which4iaUálready -killed.and *partlyç eaten the young one, was forced to drop his prey. A furious combat followed. v Carlo was more than a match for one, but the} whole party fell upon him. Fortunately the two youths came up ipAthe* nick of time. > . ^ . The monkeys showed fight for a moment, "but when Ned flew at them with his axe, and began to cut and slash in all directions, they speedily took to flight. Henry looked on bewildered, and, apparently sickened at the sight. "Bad Carlo," he said. But Carlo, without taking any notice, went on eating. , Henry Thornton turned atvay.in disgust. The young monkey had something strangely; human about .it. Ned laughed. "You ought to be a girl, rvHarry," he. said, "you are so squeamish Henryiquitc blushed. "What nonsense you do talk, Ned," said Harry, with considerable confusion. He fancied îthat NeÄ despised him for his timidity; he was very much mistaken. Onward still, under the trees, some of which were of enormous elevation; and they now made their way, fearful the savages might follow. Soon, however, after a consultation, they des- cended to the low-lands, tbwards what appeared to be a river. Henry Thornton thought they were not far from home. An unforeseen obstacle, however, forced them again to turn towards the forest. A deep and dangerous morass lay exactly in their way. Here Carlo rejoined them, walking proudly and -pleased, as if ihe had done a meritorious action. At all events, he , v - ; . He then snatchedmp'lThomton's nv.eapon and again fired. ' ;- -V v~:V The Indians were thTOTO^ntô\çonîufiion,' and surrounded'thcir wounded friend. 'Л'-&;У The boys took advantage of the mibbub and noise to plunge into the wood, where "Ihey'left a clear and open trail. This, however, was not to be avoided. At length, exhausted and out of breath they halted, and the guns were again loaded. Their ammunition was in abundance. Henry again looked keenly around. The country seemed familiar to him, and yet he was not quite sure. He looked at the dog. Carlo answered by a wag of his tail. Both followed him anxiously, but he onlyJed them to what appeared to be a branch of the same stream they had already crossed. "I know where we are," said Ned. And as he spoke he floundered into the water, waded some distance down, and then halted. "Where are you going ?'^ asked Henry, anxiously watching his proceedings. "Water leaves no trail," he answered, ad- vancing towards a kind of cliff on the opposite side of the pond. From this he drew the identical canoe he had captured from the Indians some days before, and bade Henry enter. Nothing loth, his companion obeyed. The boat was quite capable of holding half a dozen people, so no objection was made to Carlo getting in and lying down in the middle for ballast. Ned followed, and urging the boat through the shoal water with great difficulty, presently found himself in deep water. But not in the same channel he had followed before. That he avoided. Still it appeared to tend in the requisite di- rection, and Ned kne»v the danger of turning back. Behind were the furious savages, thirsting more and more for their blood. The death of their comrades would make them remorseless. As he expected, they were soon in the river where the fleet of canoes had lain. Its beauty struck Harry with amazement and admiration. "What a lovely spot! pity cruel man should make it a scene of rapine and slaughter," he cried. Ned laughed, for though quite as unwilling to do battle with the savages as Harry, he was not quite so sentimental. The question is now, what to do?" paid he, steadying the boat by means of his paddle. "Regain our fort; that we can hold against any number," replied Harry. "The way?" "I fancy if we descend the river some distance I shall recognise some land-mark," was his com- panion's ready reply. They were gliding down the stream without much exertion. All Ned Summers had to do was to guide the boat, and keep it away from the numerous pro- truding branches and snags which encumbered the beautiful river. It wound very much, and while certain reaches were very short, others were of greater length and even width. Suddenly, just as they were about to turn xound.a sharp corner, Harry uttered a low cry,, and Taised his arm, pointing some distance ahead of their position. Ned looked in the direction indicated, and saw at once a man seated on the bank fishing. íHeiat once, without speaking, swept the canoe dn'shore 4and in/the deep shadow of some lofty --.These trees hung almost horizontally across the.stream. At i the same moment they heard footsteps at norgreat,.distance. - lítheündiañs were on their track. ¿'Ned made ..assign to Harry, who at once lay down beside 'the dog, .and, by caresses and mof|ôns?*endcavouredî.to'keep him quiet. The footsteps and voices grew nearer and nearer every instant. But the bank was high, and extremely well wooded. While they remained still there was no danger. At the same moment another sound alarmed .them—paddles upon the water. ■ V*:Moyc . not, for your life," whispered Ned, "nowis'thediour of peril." As he said this he drew, the canoe higher up, until it could go no further,.being jammed be- tween the boughs on thctsnoxc. A little hole between itwq -boughs, however, enabledthimrto look out.'Ц кт -JД His gaze wasdntcnti. .-%л> ?*$ • y»." The loaded gunsiayv'clo^^olhisihand. If he Avasito\die,Uie>would'dieVdoing battle bravely îoriMs)]Hc^d:ï^^^Uis.4friend; he would mot|U¿$bútcbjtó^ by re- mors¿less¿¿vages. ,v&aS¿* Thcn thßlheÄ л"1од. chant or wail, at no great distance., '/^r-Tf V.**- It was'mclancholy-and weird. Ned could not make it out. JaNÜAST 3, 1870. J 67 BOYS OF ENGLAND. Presently, howover, a large canoe came in sight, and the whole matter was explained. In the centre was a kind of platform. On this platform Uy two dead bodies. Ned, himself, shivered at the horrid sight. They were his victims. The boat was rowed by eight men, who, as they dipped their paddles in the water, uttered the mournful howls which had so it resistí bly at- tracted their joint attention. Suddenly they stopped. Л peculiar cry from the shore, close at hand, startled them. The boat drew in towards the screen behind which was the smaller canoe. Ned Summers felt his heart bound, as it were, to his mouth. Harry lay still with his soft white hand on the dog's mouth. The men on the bank then spoke over their heads, and appeared to be asking questions. The answer was not apparently satisfactory, as the others gave a grunt. The boat then proceeded on its way, the men still giving forth taeir horrid funeral chant. Harry looked up, with an inquiring glance, at his friend. Ned only put his finger on his lips by way of reply to his implied question. He could hear the men crashing through the bushes, close at hand. Presently this sound xeased, and Ned was able to explain what he had:seen. A conference was now! held, and the resolve come to to camp ; in;fact, to remain in their place of concealment all war. «• subst ituîien oí л ,s;ti;j'i>" ij**w tax, 1<<иЛц X i V. aal аиpaioJ bis сма-шааг '*..s «Ыг ïi/ «.hr.w no amoaai, м ,vv« m*«» i:** И^тиЛ, îa tb- fr«4H"r.t **o',,aa!* Ь» !v,i-»'?f u¡>- roid v,я i 1 îj-t ai *ha INd, ;*f¡ní,fii: ai» ariay to -a* inj.; ayrry y<\ar. fhAah an<í Kaid^a, fba F^aa-h had ЬоПн- an tía* IUaa<* hi 1<«<ЧН. 'Пи-, d< aíbof Atme ní Anwirbt '»c«Miïii}vf саин<;«1 ( hono'mtU" рам. A M-a'üan -if !;f;* at ,*нд*f !аа<а^п! Bu! h F, :я*М important рг^аа-шау wa« ib,: '<ÎV »a li¡;,¡i ai fíü' ¡í-íH'<-Í aí Па: t'* f'aart vud and pi'îisli*' al. Sha wnlíl not r-nüV.r anything tbní мгая Mîy.% ha!, Uk»'d -v'i' Ьи^И!' Ml!Tound<-d ■ airiv» a аа-н tbs< ¡a >' '■ ■■( «*>ааа i a-; a<-- v,, <íhi tu)' ■ i. ..; . object wílh vvüicü lie íiad • .. .t . 'uy yekff Ьи'Лcvn't lia at-. •. '\ hua- - 1 î.. Win? a i'n d; , aii»l,"» ía.aiíií, atüa'ki-íj \,y V:¡. r:J¡; •'• ,/t. mirlar Admirai fùav.4?fî, at«'d—h:> «líjj'b f»'\'u>j run mît- -аа; -.anicd. ¡u-ried oïl fu г P)f,a!,; .. ;.; í'f yfH*a*,;s,s beiau ои the ■(а<:И: but t ha a,,i<:»n.M ааач,; 1 bv .% * - i -, ho was tí a; ra;rirn,ía: ЬЫг ía¡ '^i amH., ]u- ,iíe«! jîj I Г 15. hav- ■ Iу-two уаагя (To U contiiaicil, CúiJiracií№l in No, ííí'i.j 70 [JANCAUY 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. BICYCLE BOB. 0jr the Author of " Giles Evebgreeh," *' Nobodï's Dog." '* FüED FEOLîC," " WlLDFOOT," &C &C. CHAPTER V.—{continued.) HE question came so suddenly upon Luke, that he was com- pletely dumb-founded* "And it does not appear in my simple judgment, that I shall get any answer from you. You are a couple of nice boys, I am sure." Luke felt that he was com- pelled to say something. "I left in consequence of a disagreement, and because I did not think that the business agreed with me." "Oh I a disagreement. Ah! well, now I shall get the truth of it. And pray what was the disagreement?" "People's tempers are not always alike, Miss Warner," said Bob, his generous nature stepping in to the assistance of Luke. "No one asked you," said Polly, sharply. "I asked you, didn't I, Luke?" "Of course you did, and I don't want Bob Ready to interfere in my affairs. He has done so more than once." Bob at this felt his temper rising, but ho restrained it by not making any reply. The little tormentor was not inclined to give way. "Well, about the disagreement, Luke," she said. "OTi! it is not wortli talking about," he re- plied. "Your uncle is hasty at times, and one word led to another, and then I thought it best to part. But I believe all of it was brought about by the jealousy and bad feeling of another person." And he glanced at Bob, and that so signifi- cantly that- there was no misunderstanding it. "I always thought so," said Polly, in a triumphant tone. At this Bob lifted up his head, and looked steadily at both of them. CHAPTER VI. THE FLAME АЛТУ THE FUEL. A LONG pause ensued, but at length it was broken by Polly, who had again taken up the newspaper, and appeared to be deeply immersed in its perusal. But those tormenting eyes of hers kept glanc- ing every moment over the edges of the paper, for she felt secretly pleased that she Avas stirring up a little scene between the two. "Well, it doesn't appear that I shall get at the right understanding of the disagreement— ahem—and so I shall leave you to settle it; but, I say, Luke Craft, do you know anything about this?" "About what?" he said, sharply, for his evil temper was rapidly rising, and it only wanted a little more fuel thrown upon the flame to make it blaze up fiercely, "Well, shall I read it to you? I suppose it won't disturb Mr. Ready—and, if it does, 1 can't help it; all the wor^d is not to be quiet because a boy is not quick at his figures." "You may read it if you like," said Luke; "I don't suppose that it will interest mc," "That's just as it may turn out. Now, listen. "« Daring Outrage and Burglary. — Fifty Pounds Reward. (My gracious Î what a sum !) —Whereas, on the night of the 25th, some boys, masked and otherwise disguised, burglariously broke into the house of Miss Blossomley, and stole a quantity of valuable plate, among which were some heirlooms highly prized by the owner. The above sum will be willingly paid if they are returned.' "My gracious 1 only to think, a parcel of boys to do such a thing; a good sound horse-whipping would serve them right. Don't you think so, Luke?" "Me 1 What— what do I know about it?" he gasped out. "I didn't say, sir, that you knew anything about it—only what you thought; and, here, there's a little more about it, and it's about the gentle- man at the figures." "About me ?" said Bob, starting up. "Yes, about you—you're called * Bicycle Bob,' ain't you?" (t I believe so," was the reply. "Believe !—you know so, sir. Listen. "' It is believed that greater outrages would have been committed but for the timely arrival of a young gentleman upon his bicycle. The burglars, alarmed at this, made off in various directions, and have for the present escaped; but, from information the police have received from the rider of the bicycle, there is little doubt that the perpetrators of this outrage and robbery will before long be in custody.' "Well, and I sincerely hope they will be. Don't you, Luke?" "11 What is it to me? Although I dàre say that sneaking cur at the figures would like to lug me in for it." At this Bob sprung down from his seat and exclaimed, "Who are you calling cur—eh?" And the nest moment Bob had rushed over to Luke and-seized him by the collar. "I calFyou cur, and I mean ifc; you had better leave-go." "Beg my.'pardon for that coarse word." "I won't!' Let" go, or it will'be the worse for you," saidîLukc,.struggling. "Г1Г shake it out of you, then," "Will you? curse you 1 I owe you a long grudge, and you shall have it now." There was a piercing scream from Polly, when she saw a knife gleam in the hand of Luke. "Murder! murder!" she called out, and the next moment the door flew opcn,~and John Stout with a number of men andtooys entered. Polly had rushed up into a corner of the room into as small a compass as she could reduce her- self to, and had pushed the table before her as a sort of shield. Bob was holding up the hand of Luke that had the knife in, while with the other he was bestowing upon him a good, sound shaking. Down with him, Bob I Ah, you cur, to use the knife," exclaimed a voice. The next moment, Abel Samson, alias Muscle, had given Luke a rap over theknuckle3, and the knife fell from his clutch ; and then Bob let his cowardly assailant go, and went back to his seat, while Luke folded his arms, and looked sullenly at them all. "What the deuce is all this?" said John Stout. Both boys maintained silence. "Speak, you Polly—do you hear? Speak, I say, or I'll shake it out of you," for the old man's blood was thoroughly roused. "Oh, don't ask me; and as for shaking, I think there has been quite enough of shaking." "What was it caused this? I will know. Speak, you Bob 1" At that moment, the widow Craft was • seen making her-way to the scene of the disturbance, and the men, opening a lane for her, she came, trembling andipale,anto the room, "Speak, you Bob,"'continued his master ;;" I shall have the truth from you, I know." "Well, sir, Miss Warner was reading*, some- thing from the paper, and" "Ali, I thought there was a woman in. it," muttered Stout. "Well,what was in.the paper that caused all this, eh?" Bob looked significantly at his master, glancing slightly at Luke. "Ah, well," said the old man, " I'll soon settle all this. Return to your work, men, and keep your mouths shut upon this matter. The least said the soonest mended. There, go to your work all of you, I know I can depend upon you." "Ah, that you can," said a voice. "You are a good master." The men returned to their several avoca- tions. No sooner had they gone, than old Stout shut the door. "Look ye, Mrs. Craft, the best thing you can do is to get that hopeful son of yours down to your brother's, the ship chandler, at Shad- well." "Oh, sir, I thought you said you would pro- tect him. I am a lone woman, and this, my only one, fatherless. You said you would save him." "And so I will. I'll not break my word; therefore the best way to keep it is for him at once to get away." "Yes, yes; but where? how?" for the poor woman had been so bewildered by the occur- rences that had taken place that she hardly knew what she said. "Well, be calm, be calm. I have thought it all over and it must be done in this way. You must go out of the factory with him, and then take a cab, and land him safely at his uncle's." "But, sir." "No buts. There, that will pay for the cab; and here," he whispered to her. "you can give Luke a shilling or two to put in his pocket. Let me see you or hear from you every day, and I shall be but too happy to have a good account of him." Then turning to Luke, he said, "I hope, if you get over this peril, you will reflect upon the dangers you have run and the pain you have inflicted upon a good, tender mother." "I don't see why I should be driven away from my home in this manner; supposing I was one of the boys out in the lark, I had nothing to do with the burglary, except that cur there," and he pointed to Bob, "swears to it, and that I dare say he will do; but I'll pay him out for it, let him take my word for it." At the accusation so brought against him Bob was upon the point of rushiug against him, when the hand of his master was placed on his shoulder, "Keep still, Bob; you have nothing to fear." The dark evil passions in the breast of Luke had been roused and past control. He turned upon them a contemptuous look, and snapped his fingers at them. "Who cares for you," he said; "I don't, for one, and never did; and as for you," he held up his fist at Bob, "I shall have a reckoning with you some day when you least expect it." "Leave the place," said the old man; "a place you have disgraced in more ways than one." "The knife, the knife I shame, shame !" shouted the boys; "turn him out, turn him out," and they made a rush at him. The next moment Bob sprang in before them. "No, no; don't do that, my lads; never let it be said that any one was turned out of John Stout's factory; as far as regards myself I freely forgive him.'' During this, Luke had approached the gate of the factory, followed by his poor weeping mother. He stood and looked round for an instant, then suddenly seizing a heavy hammer that was lying on a bench close by, hurled it with all his force at Bob. Bob inwardly felt when he was leaving the place that he would be guilty of some action of the kind, and, therefore, ducked his herfd, and the hammer went whizzing by him. The lad called Head-over-heels was close behind him, and, adopting his usual practice, turned a somer- sault, and so saved his head, and then the ham- mer, striking against a forge, fell harmlessly to the ground. Had not John Stout turned both mother and son into the street, Luke would have paid the penalty of his dastardly conduct, for both men and boys made a determined rush at him. But the gate was closed, and the master, stand- ing with his back against it, bade them all re- turn to their work. With a growl and murmur of anger, they did so. CHAPTER VII. A TRAIL STEUCK. The bold and mysterious manner in which the burglary had been committed was the comment of the journals of the day, especially as a number of other atrocious deeds had been committed and no clue gained of the perpetrators. In addition to the reward offered, the police were instructed to spare neither pains or expense in getting on the trail of the daring band who seemed by their boldness and dexterity to set all law at defiance. Not far from the gate of the factory there January l, 1870.] 71 BOYS OF ENGLAND. stood, as there generally does close to every large establishment, a beershop. It was pretty well frequented by the less respectable portion of the men connected with Stout's establishment, and many others from the adjacent factories. At the dinner hour on the day that Luke Craft was expelled, the reason of that expulsion was the subject of a very hot discussion. The men were smoking their pipes previous to the bell ringing for the resumption of work. "I say, my lads," said a broad-shouldered man, in the usual engineer's dress, his hands and face blackened and stained with the marks of toil, and who had been quietly eating his dinner and listening to the conversation that was going on, "it was a, lucky thing that the hammer did not settle the hash of some of you." The men connected with the factory looked up at the *man who had thus addressed them. 11 Ah, I see you look surprised at a stranger joining in your conversation; but, for all that, I am one of you." "Indeed—as how ?" replied a man. "Why, I belonged to one of the dockyards that has been lately shut up, and being a little in want of a job, I thought I would:just take* a: walk over to this place and see if there was any chance. I have always heard a good character of your factory." "Ah, then! you have heard the truth// was the answer of another. "lam glad of that, and so I shall. go over foy-and-hye, ami see the master—or I think Г11 такз it the morning—what say уои,,ек?>т "Well, that will be the best time.!/ "And so, as I am a stranger among' you, if agreeable, I'll be one no longer, but pay my footing at ronco in a couple of gallons, t ch, lads?'' This proposal was received withaJLoudJiurrahj, .and a general: rapping on the tables, and very speedily did. the man from "Woolwich" give the order, which was attended to with great celerity. After the beer had gone round, a perfect good understanding seemed to be established. The Woolwich engineer filled his pipe, and having lighted it, burst into a loud laugh. "What are you laughing at ?" said one of the men. "To think how you must have scampered when the hammer went flying about you. That's л plucky little fellow of,the name of" "Luke Craft," said one of the company. "Plucky, eh? "Very plucky to try. and'use a knife, and then when lie was saved from a good hiding by Bicycle Bob, the very man he wanted to injure, he flung the hammer at him. He'd a caught it if I'd had my will. Look ye here, it's my opinion that a boy who would use a knife is on the high road for the rope." A loud shout of approval greeted these remarks. "But what had he done to provoke all this?" asked, the man. "What hadn't he done?" continued the speaker. "Why he must have been" "'Been what?" man seemed to rouse himself, and rose from his seat; rubbing his hands, and approaching the engineer, he stood opposite to him, eyeing him keenly, the other doing the same. A pause of some little time occurred, and then the man dressed in rags placed his hand upon the other's arm. And the Woolwich engineer leant somewhat forward, "Nothing at all," replied the man, coolly. At that moment the bell rang out, and the men started to their feet. „ "Curse that bell I" muttered the man. "It's spoilt all." "Besides that, there is a little bit of a.rule among us not to tell tales out of school; but you don't seem to be a bad sort of a man,, and so if you come over in the morning, I have an idea that you might pick up a job. Now, then, mates, time is time, and good money, if well kept." The next moment the room was empty save the engineer and a man rather raggedly attired, who had sat in a corner by himself. This man was evidently a "black sheep," for although he held out his hand, and. at. times hazarded a remark, not one of the men.toobthe slightest notice .of .him, . r ■ This had not escaped the notice of the man who had left the dockyard, and he,, with a, free, good-will passed the beer to him, but which kind and generous action did not seem to meet with the approval of the others. The room had scarcely been cleared, when the "I don't think I ever saw a better bit of act- ing in all my life," he said ; "and, what's better, you have dressed it up to the very life." "I don't understand you, my friend," replied the other,.quietly. "Yes,* you do; but perhaps you don't care about doing so. But I can-understand you, and perhaps I can help you. in-the game you are upon.!*' - "-What game, do you meanl" said the otherf.l I stiHicoolly smoking,his. pipe.' ""Well, do you'mihdt treating me;to a crust:of bread and cheese and a drop more beer;,,andi ;then,, if we- can come to an understanding;. 31 [think you will be the* gainer, Mr.. Hawk." ? The person thus addressed half rose from his seat, but, as if recollecting himself,, sank:, back again... i"' "Look: ye, my man," he said, "to the bread andi cheese you are welcome—that is, if you: are hungry, and" "•If I am. hungry* 1"* And the man pub his hand down upon the-.tablc with a fierceness that for the momenta startled the other. "Weir,J don't know that'it is. hunger—it is something./ worse: a. gnawing, a»fearful pain for the want of food for three days- -and nights; and the worst;of it is, sleeping-in the open air rather sharpens the appetite.than,otherwise." "Go and ask,;for what you want," said the engineer. "Oh, yes, , and get the usual answer," "What'sthat?*r' 1 "« Where's the money, first??' 1 think-1 had better ring the bell." And he looked inquiringly at the other, who gave him a slight nod of encouragement. The order given, and quickly executed, the man sat down and began to relieve the pangs of hunger which he had so bitterly complained of. The other man bent a keen glance upon him, but failed to discover any hypocrisy, for. the man ate like a starved wolf., "And so you have no recollection of me, eh?" said the ragged one. "Well, I always thought when once you had a chap-in your grip yon never forgot him." And he took a hearty drink at the beer. "But, you see, my good fellow," replied the other, with a laugh, ** you are making a mistake. You are welcome to the bread and cheese for all that. Will you have a smoke?" "Yes. I don't think it will hurt. I have lived upon it for some time." "Lived upon what?" "Smoke—when I could get it; and tobacco didn't always come handy. Ah 1 thank you 1 How strange things* come round." And he helped himself to the. tobacco, which was pushed towards him. "Ah I yes; it is a strange world/' replied the other. "Very, very strange; stranger still that, two years ago, you had me in custody, close against this very spot." The eyes of the man thus addressed opened to their widest extent for a moment, and then quietly dropped as he took up the beer. I "The trouble you have seen, my good fellow, has rather upset you," was the reply. "Has it; you rather upset me when you. came in. Lor' bless you, with all the make-up I knew you in a moment. I know you well enough, and can guess what you are here about." "Well, then, what is it Î and who am I?" "You are Hawk—James Hawk, the detective, and you are down here respecting the burglary, and M 9 . "Hush—be quiet," said the other, grasping his wrisL. The door at that moment opened, and a mau looked in. Not seeing the party he was in quest of, he quickly withdrew. "Well, supposing L am the roan you say I am, pray who are you? I can only promise you, whatever you say shall be held in the strictest confidence." "Well, I believe you, because you did not behave so badly when you had hold of me once.1' "I had 1 When was that?" "About two years ago. I was an apprentice, nearly out of my time." "Ah, an apprentice! Where?" "Over at the factory yonder; and I don't, think many chaps had a brighter career before them than young Charley Mason." "Charley Mason I I think I remember." "Of course you do. I got out of my, depth,,, and didn't know which way to turn, when, alliât i a temptation fell in my way, and. in an; evil moment I yielded to it, and—and—and— fell for ever."' The emotion the poor fellow felt whUe making this statement appeared to overcome him; for he sunk his head upon the table,, and buried his. face in his hands. The man called James Hawk,, looked* at liiim for a moment, as if to see whether the emotion of the man was real« or feigned;- andi then¿v being satisfied that his" sorrow and peni- tence was real, he placed his hand; kindly/ upon: his shoulder. , "Look up, my man/* he said,, "I am. the person you say." "You don't suppose that, when: a fellow has- been taken by the collar that, he easily forgets the man who did him that favour! Ohj no I I don't think that any man, can. do that..,v "*Well, well, never mind." "Never mind I" and the next moment he had sprung:to his feet. "I shall have to mind; it while I live, and in my solitary cell I have sworn to have my revenge upon the pair who caused it*-* "Well; well,, that is your business." "I know that, and I don't want anyone to in- terfere with it. Now, then, you. have come down here to find out the chaps connected with that business over there/* And he pointed his thumb in the directioa of the house where the burglary took place. "Yes, you have guessed rightly." "I have," was the eager reply. "Well, I think I can tell you all about it, or at least I can tell you how to strike the trail and get upon the track." "It you .do, PU make it well worth your while, Charley Mason,in more ways ¿han one," "I am not a-going to do it for money ; at least,, not so much as. for the desire ; I have to serve out-—" "The chaps who served you out, ch,?" "Just so. Well, you want, tq get at, the boys first." "That's the trail, my lad.!* "Yes, there you are right. WelL.then, two out of the lot are Luke Çraft and young/Jack Pepper—the other two, for there were four of them in it, belong to the other side of the water, and I don't know anything of them." "But how do you knpw that, and are you sure you're putting the'saddle.on the right nag Г "Yes, I saw them ' start off upon what they called the lark; I was lying down by the wall, and I heard them; talk about masks. I thought nothing of it at the time, until I heard.the affair of to-day." James Hawk reflected for a moment. The man who was giving him this information had been taken up for stealing brass articles from the factory, and all he was saying might be out of spite or revenge. "You said you had some spite, against these two boys—what was it, eh?" , "The first boy, Luke Craft,, incited, me to steal, and the second took me to his uncle's place where the proceeds of the robbery- were sold; but as soon, as they saw that the ■ game was up—and mind you. they both, had, a share of; the plunder—they turned round upon me." "Ah l that is always the, case.!' < / "Yes, but it's, my tum,now, and it shall be the case with them. I tell you that ;shop,of> old Pepper's is nothingjbetter^than.——" "What we have long, suspepted' it tq be, but what we have never, been able to prove." "You shall soon be able to do that; Iii ga with you heart, and soul into the matter*, X'E ПО Y S OF ENGLAND. л.чо (,avk í.r к i; л <;<юп suakîm; >:n\<\ ilîiwk. "flip's b. bb a ! rot! Why, b<; î >\<>h" l\ - .ma or irons a Иа| î« 0 ч',П"'Ь i Г y< ôi an.d pat yn b» nab?< l' (./ílirrf, who wa.w J l П: IV « bat not (от ]мг<;Л wdh nud' and J fnw к j, o po a i ha yoaao fVi'ííW, ° I rol! yon ! will, if 1 can only öerve ГП^тп ont * V у ОЧ V' Ь ç M,'.4' •4'\Vt*U. wo uni-t try O-'ÎOO, ( 1по1оу," fît i. I th ,i, khaldioartod mat», "V«.nil IV ?<т do in:t! vim sec h:«w ru y former mato* pive иш t h t • cold sianb 1-T / Л ». i whoa old S< i -ut*— hl'««* him, h т а kiodbjcaitod, урхм! чоп!—oiíered me work, thoy и J they wvaíd al! Mriko H" ho did; w.> ha* was obliged, to ^iv«i in t«_> thi'iii." <4 Ob, that К it,'* .««лМ the оЩоег, with a Ï^11. "Then, íifjfíiiíi. what's to <• пи* bsiok rey рост eld moth о ¡\ and the k'irl Iliât I к,ved wb-n w were ohihiron íopdhor and to whom, when i , was ont oí го y tim<\ í was to have been married 1 ¡o—-and— and /" ¡ H*» stopped, ris thrmeh he was eh ok i o o. i » W.-ü-wei!, whaî. h' ^ifO" of th"lli ,»" í ♦♦They died broken-hearted while í \»,а-,ч inj ;.»>'on. Ib г- ..Ьяпи' js ri* i dh-;o"aeo w;h Ни'П' than , they eouii stand; and ail. i wonder at is that 1.1 am'alive.'' I f, v<»;j have been ka f wa-¡ abad making ; f wa- SiLVt '« J by «'! i4 boon in y frío ad ■ . ■ ,hey 'Шеуем* Bob î * 'T v. ■ ■ a. 'y \Ь1 * bist bf« vvri^ gone; ■.: • word, emptied bis pocket, ! . • i;¡;ítí, ",{•',■1 WO,bah bad ibo effect • i lu" oí" н1! î si vi-г и î î ne.'* tbf'jr <'orivrr>;t?ion, i:»o!f ', " btiî ni- mustHnr». No mai-lor : cinno with m<« ai . TTTE САШ. ît w.'ib y. imi-j мню ho furo the шоп «г the master at Ho; factory í¡-.-aínod ihuruHial C0olnc§S ОГ «ÍÍ4fM-4í»íon to w»rk— tho tdraa'-r having a strong : molination to pay Master Luke off, and the hífí'f \»-m¡r thort *if/hîv dÍF^ü^^íi with the con- duct oí the boy whtrtn'ïict wan tryiti^ nil in ЬУ jMO'/ог to savrt Htotit wind. Into tbooonntîîicr-boiîsf» aod there i'ound I'^liy iíi a huí o <-i' loar,-, atfmidod by KÍodd îlTctôrh'T5. >M Vvi'IL 1 nov«-r w;tiio«se<*i sach íí «í^ht ns this in all тьу Id»*," shv ^ohbod o?¡^, "Ai id 1 hope you willxaivor gt.e such iiu'^hor,'* fvplb'd hor araln, '* It would hav>- soî"vt;d into iáfiht liad Í -аш that yotiagsto.r oíí to prison.'' '•To prison," -aid f'ody, taking Ию ratndkf.'V' chief from ho? oyes; "I dordí se»? why/' "I dar« '*ау th.i ; and. î d^ al н-о v,},\ vot >h-mdd4 ropllod So-ai. "Í have as jrood a rieht to a? yon havo, or aoybijdy ols'a1' Faid í''ody, ad íh«l r>«;rv«H-s-,.n,-s,4 oí hr-r ddspOKitioa, reí urjiín^ jo fu.!i forro, %k Th<: î'.fïor folhov liad ovory!)0dy airasnnt him.'' At this rftnark fV>h looked op from 1п> рпрогя, ''Hiving «/ooo !>aok 'o îhoni diroctly bake liad b.l'î. whîlo <>\<\ Sinii laugh*-d outn^ld, "Ií 's nothing to b'iu^h at. ï say a,'.aain, tho poor hoy hadn't a friend to qfand op tor hinid' - If hod; bo faad огю <,l th" fn' f íro-nd- ir« íÍío wo; M t'* - ' aa ! up f., î* h ' > n. ;to 1 loa: i- yotn •uni'hs Miss Warner:* ,4aid Г.оЬ, Von t (dob î } ою щи aw*ar*i thai anybody in ihn promut ooîopaïjy udo' î //"''•' !, th>nk, \\U ail «plie np<( n ;.oar pa,id Mr. it-b wj;h dao ioovose," ;n;d at tho ш<а;!1',а: "t* do, Ь(.ч. vood Folly thr p.," This last o'-nsarb v/ач mad<'' in reforoitoo lo hot iiîiohî thrtiwing up.ai tho oomdт^мнкс dooi and }№inimz to it* an aothna I'oliy .-цШонаии wo И aîidf'rsiorid, "Wh. o.'V b; nib aiy; уомг own tksh and hhw.d, A m an !-of-all- wo i к 'a place woohi ho morn po-baabh;/* "a« too H ko. Porîlyd' il but î do od dko, and .doobi, hb\ V.l^S me! \vhy ;o'a in your bawd.5, Mks Wärter," «nd lîob. "Ko thev are, 1 doclarc, Л Jul mtc, adieu /i/r fio t«' (bt,roa u. ОЧоо'о..' oí d'o, ¡i-%í i BOYS OF ENGLAND, f AM Л í. V 1, \< 70, J Iii ill "гик sh;i:t or tue animal attîîA(Tî;iî kvkky нгмлк reixc» пом thi: геитлс^;' A STRANGE CAREER; OR, TÎ1B VOlldVAl'iA Yicrm. <#— 1ЩЛРТЕП TL SOMTCTTTTN« LIKE A rKRFORMAXCR. lÎOvï ha'.e 1 f!i<- !aaa¡'if of adhtev ing Г* Osear, alíe.»,",». j; Íí í,.,..t íu íaaam y..,¡r (i.Miuy m v.-if b min"'/"' fka! 1 am *,v¡; híiof f;ip¡i a) í :*ри-!|1;»{Ь»*«.м Ы Osear," *♦ í dhh.'t a4: ;<. Jlí , me*-,' per week, ata! П! Ь(;ц]ч! lo. ?!ed умп slab! arf bboie !'„- : .'H.eh a! -/) I!:-- n,, 1 a,u о! л n ibaa- •lÍ4p«.-iíH-Mf -u.kue¡' ¡a !•'«» ;»ímí >,'-t Ь;Ьс a* ,•;;< w euraajy s<» яг:'''»- a- tay-tery. I . -ks1- ту- eif li>;.;¡ hahi.n »'bí> í ' î* i * * • iüt-í 4,,-¡í be -.aar« »!y' 'Wr Yoil !ГЛГ«" '-at a' 1 h" )'Í;h'¡'. UV t-'b||, ai Mi,ti l ,'íhí a wwke I «u;,i;.- . 'Vt/u*'l ;.'¡v a ^tíÍ!\"{t ri-p:rt»< ;i rrm?4<-i* « wku h a; i holbín;,: (í; ivfiüiiü^vi i¡ítr« bu! 't/^"í!h'Sw, 1 kïinw :Jh" woi-ki «.«/<:П, --iг,'1 "Voü 4''í'í!) ín ;;ih.\v y* ítí r I « ïV • í/í l 'ímüks" и My p!-(i|V^M<»n, sir,'' -líf.b-tz^' Ziuy;,;i''f; >'-ib, wît.ïi i\i¡ih,it\\ J •* Y«% jour pr*í ?>"•*.••• i un» T bf\ií ynnr i-imlnri." ! T*í >n*t t roubi*1 jf.nwi f, híy (3r-;ir sí r. Buffo I |iî«h4M"'?" » I Will -i. H'ít ;;',UÍ Нч' b'aFt jf rL î •n ; can bnt тгт," О^саг. И; lía-'f in;.."" сие tunrunvj '.n%'^}^\ ;w\ h-nrvl it■ <::>'h nh4ví il;'' b;\\*"í), ai".«l afu r parn'.Uag î the pviiinpnl Иii*í;ís, rnnic'l îîitci a pitu-f of , vaH*u».t vr'Hm'i which ?hf-» <'XÍ,-bi'd jas?, by wha» . f J Ha m с îi î г » ri a 1 л îiw si a'n < i ?, j 'I?!, n 4 «<чт.(Ы fr^î» n\v 3Ir. hbî'vh ; Miigp-crick'c, superbly pot «p in his assumed ; rliur.'jnvr, with i?irbaîî»and bTpr-ahiwjia,/ crimson I silk r«h,H?, f»iiibruï«k'J.4*d with ^(hai, which hung i<" Hf from hí'*; >-houí«U'Tí«* and a< Гц»'' wiiai <щ* ; ria^íoiu.bby bhjw it. oa слш sitíií. ili*ijïtay<'«l i*ag*ry ■ ; <;(,ь"!,- i;.ab«% (.í rh'ií b!ar ra-ana-!с ! Mr. MuL,u4a ib!.;c knew the pablir, 11 * un- hamr-S''-:i í;i« abk it *hmn to» i wards ííie >í íi. 'Tía- « -:¡-< eíaíb- crowd ybaob ar<;.i;i<; trank into a ¡¡Y¡n¡* syrin^i. Aíi»*r кк-kmjr oui at g<»a for mmu moments, wit li 1Ы sharp, iî:î"l]iffiTt î ; t f Ь - < ук, and í*ías.iíaaabíy аЬа?нЬпд «idi.-way.< at the cv«A\«i. the <-Ь pbanl i*-l!ow*fal как !аа>!<-г íriu г.к-iîpi; ju.iieinusly k<-pi in the : Itack-^íVrUíHh \li< be trieb. S The bíKTs \von>,< <>i the >е"пек waap<»areb î fniilb br tak'ai a1- any na'ferien, ! lis-a; ,-ем<| ;e !Iи• 'Ьа*а Mei aa ♦ :;( p ,%r îhe ^peeUaîer- H л -, character. î >hif.;íaindpe wai4 bivíbbV inn íï the «* firaeb ачаЬ'агЬу. la "bubal w- have h Tymib.ti.soi yeaV^ — baî ia'Kfiebuai v-a "bave pfreai'она•]< of ia>r*,«u kaive ещЬае-* that Fiaal anb -4b^ jhv, Ijtif i - íaaeh рг»'Ьт Italia, I '-ib by lev batsy.ai 1 !'<><•, a,ial sina-kf! ray pipe, and 1' think of bar j/rea' ¡ Brahma who' :i ved twonty-sevon millions ie- ! Viaars ape ** 1 ^<>гЛ taay pfi te her hus'auab Йо"у(а;Ьо t iia- :|ате; \h . \cair won;an îrai-ay a'.'a hu nab ybv- BOYS OF ENGLAND. [Januaut 1, 1870. to the second husband the clothes of the first. England is great, but she was born yesterday. England is a little garden, India is immense; England is pretty, India is grand. Your river are small, and trickle along pretty, but our river is mighty, and like a rolling sea. You have fine horses, but no elephants. Our elephants is clever with much cunning. My elephant is ninety- seven years old, and his faculties are sharp. "You English grow too fast; your towns are too close. There is no room to wander about. I sometimes feel choked. I want a big forest, or a high mountain where I can breathe." The audience-applauded loudly, and Jabetzee proceeded with 'his harangue, contrasting the various customs of England with those of India, and ludicrously endeavoured to show that those of the latter were far more, civilised and preferable, and the entertainment concluded amid ; a storm of approbation. ¡ "It's a fine spec,*' said Mr. Muggeridge, after! he and Oscar had reached their room, and were comfortably sipping their coffee, (t it's a fine spec. We are well provided for for life*. Our respective and several bread is buttered, sir. No more shall the hungry wolf of poverty approach our door. Two-hundred heads.at two shillings, that's £20; two- hundreds and fifty ab one shilling, that's £12:5s. ; that's £32 5s.,andUhen the tanners—say two hundredtanners—theback- ¿eats, that's £5; that's nearly £40. Sayr £40 receipts ï disbursements what? Rent ofihall,. attendance, and so on, say at the outside \£&;; well, at the least, there's £30 clear profit. Efe' a good spec, sir, a good spec." "But many nights we shall be doing nothing// observed Oscar. "That's true; but not many nights^ Thfë kind of business rests so much upon ai man's power of arrangement and organization. Ehave the bump of order. Do you believe in phrenology? Look at the shape of my head. Leave it to me. There's very few nights we shall not be at work with the two bobs, the one bobs, and the tanners rolling in." "Things went on swimmingly," as Muggeridge observed, for the six nights, at the end oLwhich Jabetzee Zingalec Saib issued a circular inform- ing the nobility, gentry, and inhabitants of Hastings and its neighbourhood, that having been requested by many of the high families to prolong his stay in order-that they might have a further opportunity of visiting his renowned representations, he had determined to stay another three nights. These three, nights proved as successful as the previous six. Another three nights followed, and then ho had recourse to the "positively one more night only," dodge, until at last his daily visit with his elephant down to the sea created no more interest in the satiated public mind than did the appearance of a butcher with his tray, or a milkman with his pans. "The public mind," observed Mr. Muggeridge, philosophically, to Oscar, after returning from his sea visit with the elephant on the last day— "the public mind rushes after novelty, but is soon satisfied. Eleven days ago, I was over- whelmed with, spectators—to-day I had no one to look at me bût a nurserymaid, a small boy, and a lame, poodle." "This place is done, I think," said Oscar. "Yes," observed Muggeridge, in more pro- fessional language ; "Hastings is worked dry." The next day the great grandson of Tippoo Saib mounted the hoodah of the elephant, and left Hastings, the chariot, or car, following with Oscar, and behind that came the waggon with the apparatus. They passed through St. Leonards, and along, the road by the side of the sea on to Pevensey plain. They passed the grand old castle of Pevensey, and soon reached the road which skirted the South Downs, leaving Beachy Head on: the left. The.animal attracted from* the cottages-, along the wayside every human being within; and they stood at their doors gazing in silent wonder as he passed, and many followed him a consider- able way along the road. An entry into a village was a cause of windows and doors to be crowded with heads and faces, with eyes widely distended looking at the, beast. They reached Brighton in safety. This town was dealt with in the same way. Its curiosity somewhat aroused by a red placard beforehand, and then startled by the appearance of the ele- phant taking his long strides through the streets with a richly painted hoodah on his back, and inside this hoodahi sat- Jabetzee Zingalec Saib, the great grandson of Tippoo Saib, calmly smok- ing his hookah^forMr. Enoch Muggeridge was very careful, as. to effect. That skilful; individual found the "spec" as successful atBrighton as ithad been at Hastings, and there is no doubt that fortune would have i followed- their footsteps- had not an incident occurred in this town which upset their arrange- ments, and ultimately destroyed the harmonious relationship between Oscar and.his friend. On tha third night of their representations, Oscar stoodas usual beside the front screen ; the place where he was standing-being dark, he was- necessarily unseen' by-the. audience. He wasjnrthe middle ofl a description*, off theî representation of the rninsjof Ninevehj.when;io> his- amazement*, he felt something: gradually encárela his necki then squeeze him tiglitlyvand then, a face.1 was put close to his, andia pair ol soft lips,- kissed? his cheek, a voice saying: ardently, at the same moment, : "Found; at last;!' ; Mr. Muggeridge being: behind- the scene, and hearing Oscar's voice, suddenly* cease;-called out, "Go on,:go on.- Whate in the world" are you 'stopping: for? Goon.!' Then, finding. Oscar- stilh remained silent, so far as concerned'his addressing the audience, but earnestly appealing to some:one to-be quiet, Mr. ¡Muggeridge went forward where he could discern :(though they were invisibla^to the audience) a female form:with her arms around. Oscar's neck, .from' which embraces the latter was vainly struggling to release himself. "What now ?" asked Muggeridge; ina.whisper, "there must be no courting in business hours. Go on with the description. Who is this girl?" He succeeded in releasing Oscar from the fair lady's embrace, and took her into the small room at the back of the stage. All this while the audience sat in surprise, wondering what could be the reason of the sud- den close of the half-finished description, when Oscar, released as we have seen, proceeded with his address, and the entertainment was at length brought to a satisfactory close. Jabetzee came forward to give his usual ad- dress. He said to Oscar, "There's a girl in the back room wants to see you." Oscar hastened into the back room, and there, sitting on one of the chairs, with her pale face, blue eyes, slim figure, and abundant flossy red hair, was no less an individual than Miss Bar- bara Pendle. Oscar gazed at her in surprise. He could not understand that the girl whom he had only met once before, and who then seemed cold and un- impassioned, should have sought him out in a distant place, and have announced her presence in such a strange manner and at such a moment. He was not a very quick reader of character, or he might have observed on the occasion of his first interview with her, the quickly flushed cheek rapidly succeeded by a deathly pallor, and the curious furtive glauce of the eye every now and then turned upon his features. On that occasion he had looked upon her unmoved-not the least flutter of love or admiration disturbed his breast ; with Barbara it had been love at first sight. Until she first met Oscar she had scarcely been allowed to speak to any one of the opposite sex. When Pendle informed her he was about to bring a gentleman who would make her a good husband, providing she would love him, and that it was his, Pendle's wish, that they should be married, Barbara received the order as naturally as she would have played a fantasia on the piano at her father's request. Oscar now stood silent. He was puzzled at her behaviour, and annoyed and alarmed at being discovered by any one connected with Pendle. Poor Barbara took his silence as a cruel re- buke for her forwardness and want of propriety. She hung her head abashed—looking on the ground—her face and neck scarlet with shame, and presently she burst into tears. Osoar felt perplexed. Why was she crying? He thought of Pendle, and the hatred he bore to the father called up suspicion against the daughter. "I believe she is acting all this," he thought. "Miss Pendle, may I ask of you a favour?" he said aloud. "A favour? I grant it before you name it, Mr. Wilson," said Barbara, in an almost inaudi- ble voice—so sadly—full of heartfelt sorrow— and for one moment she raised her eyes and gazed upon Oscar's face, but quickly again they were bent upon the floor. "Then I will ask you never to inform your father that you have seen me, nor let him, know where I am. The connection between myself and Mr. Pendle is at an end. I wish him to be i a stranger to my movements.,, I "He shall never know anything from me,.Mr. jWilson." ¿ *' I have your solemn promise, Miss Pendle?" ; "You have, Mr.-Wilson; but, oh! why are •you:so cold towards me? In what my father imayhave offended you, I know not; but when •we-flrst met, you must have been good friends, or he would not have introduced you as a hus- band for his daughter. Oh ! Mr. Wilson, is the difference between: you irreconcilable?" and Barbara looked appealingly towards him. "Utterly, Miss* Pendle. Let us dismiss this subject; it is painful to both of us- I hope Mr, Pendle is not in Brighton?" "No; he is still, in London." Oscar felt revived. At that moment he had to leave the little room to attend to some duty connected with the enter- tainment. As he disappeared, Barbara watched his retreating figure with eyes filled with tears. She looked around the room, and exclaimed, in words of anguish, "He does not love me—nor docs he know I love him as I do. He hates my father—perhaps he hates me." She dried her eyes with her handkerchief, and, rising from her chair, left the room by the back entrance. When Oscar returned, he was surprised to find her gone. "Who was that mad girl?" asked Mr. Mugger- idge, Avhen«theyrhad retired tn} their, lodging. Oscanrelated^o his friend sufficient*of bis con- nection with Pendle to account for the appear- ance of his daughter that evening. "She's a strange fish," observed the showman, dryly, and looking very sly at his companion; but seeing that Oscar was desirous of avoiding the subject, he said no more. CHAPTER VIL ЕКТЕАГРЕ1>. On the fourth evening after the strange ap- pearance of Barbara, Oscar was very much sur- prised, on leaving the hall to proceed to his lodging, to find Mr. Pendle himself standing outside the doors, with a crafty-looking indi- vidual beside him. Before he had time to speak or act, Pendle said to his companion, "That's the gentleman ; you will fulfil your instruction;" and then he gave the usual quiet chuckle, that.sounded in Oscar's ears.as a fore- boding of CYÍ1. The man stepped forward, atid placing his hand on Oscar's shoulder, exclaimed— "You are my prisoner, sir." "Prisoner I" exclaimed Oscar, looking round with fierce indignation for Pendle—but that in- dividual was slowly walking away. i( Prisoner I \Vbat for?" "Forgery!" "This is absurd. This is some practical joke. Take your hand off me." "You had better go with mc quietly. Ycu won't force me to use the handcuffs, will you?" "But you will let me communicate with my friend first?" "You can, write, sir. My orders are to take you off at. once." Oscar was placed in.a cab. "Where are лус going ?" he asked, "To Lewes." Then there was another silence, and after some Janüahy 1. 1870.J 75 BOYS OF ENGLAND. considerable time tile cab drove up in front of a large, old, quaintly-built house, and stopped. "What place is this?" inquired Oscar. "The magistrate's house," said the officer. "You must get out here, and go in with me." Oscar got out as he was told, little imagining what kind of a place he was about to enter, or he would have fought against any odds for his liberty. The officer rang the bell, and the door was opened by a bread-shouldered, athletic fellow, dressed in livery. He appeared to expect them, and without uttering a word, led the way to the back part of the house into a small room, scantily furnished—if it could be considered furnished at all î for a small deal table, one chair, and a low bedstead, were all the articles that stood within the four walls. When inside, the officer and attendant left the room, locking the door carefully after them. Reflecting on. his melancholy position, the time passed on, and half-an-hour had elapsed when he heard footsteps; then the door opened and Pendle entered. The forger had taken a separate cab, and ar- rived at the house a little time after Oscar and the officer. "You see,Mr. Wilson," said Pendle, "you are trapped at last." "Then I am indebted to you for this piece of vengeance. You are the person who has been at the trouble of hunting up my late employers, and persuading them to annoy mo with their false charge of forgery." "On the contrary, they have nothing' to do with it. You owe your captivity to your own' folly. You left me in a very strange way. and you know too much of my affairs to remain at' large, unless I can ensure your secrecy. I also think, and Hatton believes, that you know all about the blocking up of the Roman vault. Is it not so?" I wish to heaven. I had never seen you, Mr. Pendle, nor the vault either." "Your wish shows little regard for me or for those with whom you consorted for a time. You are as likely to inform against us as not, there- fore you are placed where you cannot do much harm to any." "I may thank your daughter for this, sir; she is as crafty as yourself." "You are wrong again. You have not a greater friend than my daughter. Poor silly fool you must be to knock down the fortune which fate built up for you. Would not Barbara and fifty thousand pounds be far better;than your present position? Why not marry Barbara, then my interest would be yours?" "If your daughter's parentage were otherwise than what it is, Mr. Pendle, I might act differ- ently; but as it is, I decline the proposition." "Fool, then," cried Pendle, with a burst of anger, "remain here and rot ; you arc in no prison as you understand the term, but in a private lunatic asylum." "Good heavens I" cried Oscar, springing to his feet A cold thrill of horror ran through his frame* He knew now what he had to expect. He was completely at the forger's mercy. The first feeling of horror over, he looked at Pendle, who sat maliciously enjoying his victim's agony. With a sudden bound Oscar seized the wretch byt the-throat, though not before the latter had given a piercing scream, which brought into the room the-man in livery who had opened the door to them, and who evidently had in- structions to be on the alert if any assistance was required. Striding up to Oscar he caught his arm with an iron grip, which made him release Pendle's throat, and flung him with violence on to the rude bed at the side of the room. "Cuss you," said the watcher, "refractory already, eh. We must have the irons." "Yes," said Pendle, who recovered himself with surprising rapidity, "put him in irons if he's refractory." "Kill me—murder me, you would say," said Oscar» bitterly, "and this fellow knows what you mean, too. But mark me, Pendle, if we meet again you will rue this hour." "Now don't be rash," said Pendle, in a con- fidential1 tone.- "Before you talk about meeting me again tell me how you are going to get out of this room." Oscar looked round. There were only three openings in the bare walls—the window thickly crossed with iron bars—the chimney, from which the stove had been removed, was also thickly covered with strong iron bars, and the door was heavy, and the harsh grating of the key showed the strength of the lock. "I will give you time to think of it," said Pendle. "I will come again to-morrow. When you are alone and quiet, you will perhaps be able to decide which will be the best for you to do— to make me your friend or your enemy." And with a mocking laugh Pendle quitted the room. "I am in doubt," said Oscar to himself, "whether that villain is really human, or whether he is not a demon allowed to walk the earth in human form." "Ah," said the attendant, who entered at that moment, " you chaps often have them sort of fancies about demons, and ghosts, and hell, and furies, and spirits, and angels, and heavenly visions, and earthquakes, but all yer fancies is only in yer own muddled skulls. It's only mad îdreaming." "You're a fool 1" said Oscar. "Am I? Not such a big un as you, though, young sir, or ï should be in your place, with some one to look after me." "Just leave me to myself, if you please. I don't want any of your impertinence." "That's mostly what you coves like, sir; you ollust want to be left to yerselvcs." The man took up the candle, and waited to- wards the door, and unlocked it. He then took out the key and put it in on the outside, all the while keeping his eye on his prisoner. "Am I to have no light?" asked Oscar. "No, you might have a fancy to make a bon- fire of yourself. Good-night." And Oscar was left alone in the dark. He groped about with his outstretched hands until he felt the bed, and then laid down upon it. He noticed that the window was high up, and that a faint light came in and fell on the wall opposite. "If Pendle," he thought, "is villain enough to act in this way, he is bad enough to starve me to death, to murder me, to do anything to get rid of me. I must get out of this place." Thinking over his deplorable situation, he fell asleep. CHAPTER VIII. THE ESCAPE—A NEW CHARACTER INTRODUCED. I the morning Oscar awoke and saw the light streaming in from the window. It seemed early, as far as he could judge. He looked around the room, hoping to find some weak part through which he might escape. How absurd the idea seemed when he saw the heavy door, the barred window and the iron bars across the chimney I He pondered deeply for some time, and thought that this latter place was only one which seemed at all practicable. He examined the irons. They were embedded in the brick work. He shook them, but found they were firm. "If I could remove one" he said, " I could squeeze through and see where the chimney leads to; but I must have something to move the brick." After awhile he heard footsteps, and the door opened. It was the watcher, who said, as he entered, "I have brought you some soup, sir. I hope you are beginning to feel more comfortable?" "Has the man gone who caused me to be brought here ?" inquired Oscar. "Yes, sir. You mean your relation?" "Relation !—he's no relation of mine. He's a villain!" "It's very funny, sir; but that's what all of you think." "Can't I go out to-day in the grounds? I shall be stifled in this close place." "No, it's agin the rules. We ollust keep new patients close for a week or so, just to tame 'em a bit. Your case is marked* very refractory ' in the governor's book." "Well, as you please," said Oscar. "Let me have the soup. I am very hungry. But, stop!" he said, as he thought of poison, for he believed j Pendle was bad enough for anything. "You are the only being I shall see, perhaps, for some time, and I should like to be friendly; will you take some with me?" He handed the basin to the man as he spoke, who drank a small quantity, and, being now satisfied that it was not poisoned, Oscar took some himself, and made a good meal. "Can I smoke ?" he asked. "Yes." "Then let me have a pipe." And Oscar smoked, and matured in his mind the plan by which he hoped to escape. Towards the evening the attendant brought him more food, and told him that he should not see him again that night. Then Oscar began to work. By some strange omission they had not searched him, so he still retained a strong clasp-knife in his possession. He went to the chimney and tried all the bars until he found out which seemed to be the least rigid, and began to dig the plaster away. It was a tough job, and he seemed to make little pro- gress. Still he worked on, encouraged by the knowledge that if he only loosened one end of the bar he could wrench the other out easily. Scrape—scrape—scrape—far into the night; and success so far rewarded his efforts. He took hold of the bar, and after an immense tug it came clear away. "That will do," he cried, with joy: "now for another." The bar removed, served the purpose of a lever, and by its help he soon pulled sufficient out to admit of his crawling through, and then he hoped that nothing stood between him and liberty but a climb up the chimney. This feat was not so easy, for it was a task he had never before attempted, and he was some few minutes before he could hit upon the proper method of proceeding; but at last he reached the top, and stood upon the roof, which turned out to be only a low addition to the main building. He gazed around for a few- moments to re- cover his breath. The stars were sliining brightly, and all around was still as death. He could see that the edge of the roof was not more than ten feet from the ground, and crawling to the edge he dropped down by his hands into a mass of evergreens. He lay quiet for a few moments, lest some unseen watcher might have heard the crash of the boughs; but, finding all still silent, he rose up, and made his way swiftly to a hedge of haw- thorn that divided the asylum from a wheat- field. He forced his way through it, and struck across for the main road. Fear of recapture sustained his energies, and mile after mile of the dusty road was covered by his feet, until the early light of the morn- ing began te glimmer in the cast, and then he stopped at a little road-side inn, the shutters of which were being taken down by the ostler. "Good morning, goy'ner; you're early," said the ostler, eyeing him with some degree of curiosity. "Yes, I've had a long walk." "Rayther, I should say. You look as though you'd been a tramping all night." "Well, I have nearly. Can you get me any- thing to eat inside?" "Ohl yes; plenty, sir. Walk inside, and we'll get a breakfast for you in no time." - The bar was on the right of the entrance, and on the left was a small room which seemed to serve the purpose of' tap-room and. parlour combined.: It liad a stone floor, covered with clean. sand, and'even at that* early hour a bright fire was burning in the grate. . > Before the fire, with .her small, delicate, and well-formed feet on the fender, sat a young1 girl, whose age appeared to be not more than six- teen. "Who can shebe^Vthought Oscar;' tTo be continued Commenced in'No.lôO.), , . 7G [Janüaüy 1, 18701 BOYS OF ENGLAND. THE TWO DIVERS. I, "Watts Brown, follow a very hazardous calling, or, at all events, a calling in which, if you choose to face dangers for the sake of higher remuneration, perilous adventures are common enough. Some years ago a large vessel, laden with a mixed cargo, was hound to New York from South America. Striking a sunlcen reef off the dangerous shore of Florida, she was wrecked, and very few of the passengers or seamen escaped. The owner, who was also captain, was drowned. His heirs lived in New York. It appears the vessel had settled down in the ocean, having escaped the attack of any storm, so, as might be supposed, her cargo would be pretty well recoverable; but it was a useless and foolish attempt to try to get anything from her in a lonely sea, and on a dangerous coast. However, one of those men whom Nature has formed for the out-of-the-way modes of getting money in this world, having obtained the consent of the heirs in New York, fitted out a large yacht, and pronr-ing money only on condition of success, I was prompted to hazard the spec; it agreed with my adventurous disposition, and I signed articles and shipped my- self. After a deal of trouble, we picked up another diver, a coarse, brutal, drunken rascal, whose con- duct, as hereafter seen, will sufficiently justify these remarks. Having got the diving bell and other apparatus on board, we at last set sail on this novel pursuit of lucre. The voyage was fine, and having nothing to do I enjoyed it very much, and was even softening to- wards my fellow-diver when we reached that part of the coast of Florida where the sunken wreck lay, and where our fortunes were buried beneath the waves. We were a considerable time in discovering the wreck, but we found it at last, far down in the depths of the still blue sea, where troops of sharks were pursuing each other about and through it for want of better çrcy. No pleasant sight, I can assure you. My fellow- diver gave them a fearful curse, and took an extra long pull at his brandy flask. As for myself the affair seemed more dangerous than ever. The vessel would have to be moored above a bed of reefs, and if a storm were to arise, ill-fate would catch us, for there is little mercy to be expected for a ship from the cruel and jagged coral. However, I plucked up the very best heart, say- ing to myself, "My dear fellow, the more danger the more money." Jim Crow—that was the diver's name—gave utterance to a no wise pleasant oath, about having been swindled, muttering at the end, "but I'll pay them off deuced sharp, or I'm not—" concluding his sentence very suspiciously, which did not tend to increase my confidence respecting his^intentions. We pulled back to the ship, after placing a buoy to mark the spot. The two next days Jim Crow and I were busy in preparing our things for the attack on the sunken wreck. Several days thus passed over; we had broken into the cargo, and, what we considered of value and the sea had not damaged, was hauled on deck, and the schooner became pretty well laden. I think it was about the last day of working, as we were down in the bell, that Crow again wended his way towards the cabin. By this time my suspicions regarding his evil intentions were quieted, yet there still lingered about him traces of obstinate sulkiness, so that I took very little notice of his operations, and I busied myself about different things in the hold of the vessel. I think about half-an-hour must have passed by when I returned to the bell, and I was startled by the cunning, wicked cast of Crow's countenance ; he was shuffling something beneath his diver's clothes; as the last of it disappeared I guessed it was a bag, and the thought flashed across my mind—a bag of money. I quietly asked Crow what ft wa3. "Humph'I nothing. What have ye to do with it?" he growled. My curiosity was further aroused by this answer. "Well, you must tell me what it is," I said, keep- ing myself as quiet as possible. "The devil I will 1" he shouted, savagely. "Then you shall be forced when we get on deck," S I replied, resolutely. "Ha, ha, forced 1" Here he quietly drew a long knife. Quick as thought mine was out too, for I always carried it in my boot. "I suspected something of this," I said.^ He scowled heavily at me at the other side of the bell. •* Now you must tell me what that is," I said, But, nothing daunted, the ruffian cried— "I will see you dead first 1" I knew his mighty strength, but I also knew my own agility and skül. Crow said again— "Tis a bag of gold I found in the cabin, and if you hold your jaw I shall gie ye a third." "Never shall I be dishonest," I said, after some deliberation, looking pale, I dare say, but perfectly calm. Let the reader imagine the scene in a bell forty feet under water; it would take at least twenty minutes to pull it up. A fierce fight, perhaps a deadly one, might be finished by then. Suspicion might be hushed; the body could be flung to the ravenous sharks with which we some- times had to combat with our sharp-pointed crow- bars; but our frightful, gloomy appearance might have been enough to terrify the inhabitants of the deep. We stood eyeing each other for some time ; ho for attack, I for resistance. I offered to pull the alarm-bell, but he clutched it from me. I attempted nothing further. After a few minutes' pause he said— "Will you take shares?" "No 1" was the firm answer. "Perhaps it is not large enough?" "AU of it is too small." "You won't give in?" he said. I expected something and prepared myself. "Never!" I replied, at length. "Then to death I" he yelled, springing at me. Quick as thought I caught his elevated arm, poised in the air for a stab. I made.a lunge at him, for my blood was roused at this fiendish attempt on my life. He parried it, but it caught him on the shoulder; however, he clutched my wrist, and there we were scowling at each other; the foam burst from his bloodless lips, and his passion-wrought face intimi- dated me more than his bloodthirsty strokes. At last he made a forcible effort to free his arm, but I held it with all the strength of desperation. Amid oaths and curses he struggled. Sometimes he was quiet, and the only sound was the hurried panting of our excited chests. At last I wrenched my hand from his, and stabbed him in the hand. His knife fell, but, with a curse that rings yet in my ears, he threw himself at me, and grasped my body and arm in his gigantic clasp. I seized him by the throat. With the hug of a bear he tried to break my back; his strength seemed almost superhuman, but, shifting off the bars of wood by a wriggle, we plunged into the sea beneath. Down, down we sank! No effort was made to lose the hold of either. Tighter and tighter we grippled till we fell into the coral reef. Death itself seemed to me a trifle. Passion and hate seemed but the consummation of my heart. My strength was that of Hercules, under the influence Of this demoniacal conflict. But want of air stifled our efforts. As the fire began to flash before my eyes, and the disc of unconsciousness to creep over me, I released my hold; Crow also loosened his. I know little about this part, but being an excellent swimmer I struck out with all my force. The water.whizzed by me. I was stifling, choking, dving. When I reached the surface, with a gasp of air I recovered, and was enabled to snriek, "Help, help I" when I fainted away. As a dream, floated before me—men, ropes, boat and rescue. I awoke ; but the pain, and dizziness, and confu- sion in my head defy all description. After a few hours I could rise, but still I was feeble. I enquired for Crow; he was in a delirium. They told me when the bell was brought, he lay on the bars as dead, grasping the gold bag with both his, hands. They also told me that they but rescued me from a shark hovering near the schooner. Next day we set sail, and arrived not long after in New York. Two hundred pounds was my fee, but the master gave me fifty more for my honest resistance. Crow was still bad in his head. They put him into a hospital. I called three months after, and he had gone to the backwoods of the far West. HOW HE LOST A CUSTOMER. A few days since a well-dressed lady entered the shop of a London tradesman, who, among other proprietary articles, is the inventor of a celebrated hair tonic. As she entered, the shopkeeper was behind the counter, a matter rather rare for him, and with his hat on his head. He personally waited on her, asking, with his best smile— "What can I show you, ma'am?" "Your hair tonic." "Here it is, ma'am," producing a bottle of the article. "This is what makes hair grow, does it?" "Yes, ma'am; you'll find a little pamphlet inside the wrapper with many certificates from people who have been bald." "Humph! What's the price?" "Six shillings a bottle, ma'am—six bottles for thirty shillings." "You're certain it'll make hair grow?" "It never fails unless the hair is destroyed by disease." "Well, I've lost a little of my hair; I will try it." Proprietor said he had no doubt the tonic would accomplish the result, and the lady ordered half-a- dozen to be sent to her house. Proprietor took the address. As the lady turned to leave, the shop proprietor removed his hat, showing a head whose crown was innocent of covering. "Well, I declare 1" exclaimed the lady, transfixed, looking at him in blank surprise. "What is it, ma'am?" "Why, if you ain't bald yourself I" Proprietor was about to rejoin, but the lady con- tinued— "I don't want your hair tonic now." Proprietor attempted to explain, but the lady wouldn't listen. She couldn't be made to believe that a man could make a preparation to restore other people's hair, and remain bald himself. The moral is, when bald people sell hair tonic, they should keep their hats on. "That's a tarnation tall horse," said Laidlaw. "Yes; I guess you can't account for it," replied Jonathan. ^ "No how," said Laidlaw. "He belongs to Hummins, the liveryman," replied Jonathan, "and his tallness comes through his having been regularly Hghered for the last seven years," One day a poet read a new play before the Head- ing committee of the French Comedy. It was unanimously refused. The poet went up to M. Samson, the well-known actor, and said to him—" I have a right to complain of you; you voted against my piece, and yet you slept all the time I was reading it." M. Samson wittily replied—" Sir, in literary matters sleep is an opinion." A YotJNG man recently went to the banks of the Danube for the purpose of drowning himself. He laid his hat on the ground, when a soldier on guard shouted : "Fall back there, or I'll shoot you." The young man picked up his hat and rapidly ran away. Death by shooting was not in his programme. Somebody, who has evidently been "there," relis a story of a pedlar in the Scotch Islands, who, having run short of butter, applied to a farmer's wife for a supply. "How muckle div ye want?" said she. "A pun' will do" said the pedlar. "I canna так' ye a pun'^replied the woman. "I hae WX1UV Ш iuv.»wb««. iuo Ы10 UUlgS. "Weel, said he, "put one leg in the scale and the tither oot, and that will be a pun then." The woman did as requested, but when it was weighed, she looked doubtfully at the butter, and said, "it looks a muckle pun'." « Oh, it's all right, woman," said the pedlar. "How much is it?" "A sax- pence," was the reply, which the pedlar paid, and departed rather hastily. "I will bet you twenty dollars," said a gentle- man to his friend, "that you will come down out of that chair before I ask you twice. "Done," replied the friend. "Come down," cried the other. "I will not," said his friend, with much obstinacy. "Then stop till I ask you a second time," said the other. Perceiving that he would never be asked a second time, the gentleman in the chair came down in a double sense. Thus, also, we read that Jean, the official fool of King Charles of France came to the palace one morning, exclaiming, "Oh! sire, such news! forty thousand men have risen in the city!" What !" cried the startled king. » Why have they risen?" "Well," said Jean, "they have risen, probably, with the intention of lying down at bed- time." 78 [January 1,1S70. BOYS OF ENGLAND. Not less*than half-a-dozen of the redskins fell' under his terrible blows, and then he looked around in evident surprise that there was no longer a foe to fight. And yet he saw over twenty dead bodies around him. "How is this, stranger?" he asked, pointing to the dead Sioux. "The work of my revolver," quietly responded the young man. "Oh I then, you've got a brace of ,six shooters?" "No, one seven and one seventeen shooter." "Thunder Í Let's start at once. We'll face all the reds we meet in Colorado. Come." The party left their stronghold, when another and a sharp fight took place with some twenty other savages, half of their number falling. The others, hearing the shots continue, believed that they were attacked by overwhelming numbers, and fled. The old man loaded his rifle, and made a last shot at a savage who could not have been less than twelve hundred yards off. The Indian fell, and the hunter exclaimed. "There's old Paul's mark again." "What is your other name?" asked the lady traveller, approaching him. "Paul Jason is my name, please ye, ma'am." "Then there's Lucy Morton's mark," she cried, throwing her arms around the neck of the old hunter, and kissing his bronzed lips. The hunter started back, rubbed his eyes, and then catching her by tho hands, he cried, "No—no. You don't mean to say that you're my little Lucy that was married to a man named Charley Morton, what's got a baby an' coming out to Denver to live in my new brick house?" "Yes, I am the same." Tho old hunter embraced his child, kissed the baby fifty times, and then, turning to Charley, he said, as he took him by both hands— "By thunder, stranger—no, I mean Charley, if my gal hadn't married you I believe I never would have forgiven her, for you're jist about the bravest little chap and the best Inj en fighter for a green- horn that I ever did see. By thunder, but I shall be proud of you!" The mules had not been molested, and the balance of the journey to Denver was performed in safety. And the old man never was happier than when introducing his son-in-law, and telling of their great Indian fight on Christmas Eve, always making Charley the hero. ***** "I hope I may never spend such a Christmas," remarked Swisher, as he concluded. "Makes me shudder at the thought," said Long- dale. "Here, send in a bowl of punch, Blount." Thé punch was speedily produced, and a merry evening was spent by all, till, with promises to meet again, they separated. (To be continued.) ADVENTURES OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK ON THE ISLAND OE JUAN FEÄNANDEZ. TO.DAY AND TO-MORROW. If fortune, with a smiling face, Strew roses on our way. When shall we stop to pick them up? To-day, my love, to-day 1 But ehould she frown with face of care, And talk of coming sorrow, "When shall wo grieve, If grieve we must? To-morrow, love, to-morrow! If those who've wronged us own their faults, And kindly pity pray, "When shall we lUten and forgive? To-day, my love, to-dey! But if stern justice urge rebuke, . And warmth from, memory borrow, "When shall we chide, if chide we dare? To-morrow, love, to-morrow I If love, estranged, should once again Her genial smile display, When shall we kiss her proffered lips? To-day, my love, to-day I But If ehe would Indulge regret, Or dwell with bygone sorrow, When shall we weep, If weep wo must t To-morrow, love, to-morrow 1 For virtuous acts and harmless joys The minutes will not stay; We've always time to welcome them To-day, my love, to-day! But care, resentment, angiy words, And unavailing sorrow, Come far too soon, if they лрреах To-morrow, love, to-morrow 1 There is a story of an old hunter who came into Chicago one day, and after wandering about for awhile, looking at the public buildings and other improvements, got into a chat with one of the inhabi- tants, in the course of which he mentioned to him that he had once had a chance to buy all the ground that the city was built urjon for a pair of old boots. "And why'didn't you buy it?" «Well, I hadn't the boots just then," was the old man's calm reply. Selkirk is the acknowledged prototype of Robin- son Crusoe, and is thus the father of a numerous, family. We will here give his real life and adventures, losing, indeed, the attractive charm of the fiction now fresh in every mind. We go back to the original account of those who drew him from his solitude. This account was first given in "Woodes Rogers's Voyage Around the World," begun in 1708, and ended in 1711. In the year 15G8, Juan Fernandez, a skilful pilot, running from/Chile to Peru, discovered two volcanic islands. Selkirk was not the first to lead a life of solitude here. In 1681, Captain Watlin, after putting a Musquito Indian named Will ashore, discovered three Spanish ships in sight, and had to sail off. Three years after, Dampier touched there and took him off. As soon as this ingenious Indian saw the Eng- lish vessel, he killed and dressed three goats, and prepared a fine meal for those who thus came to his relief. When the ship's boat came near the shore, another Kusquito Indian, named Robin, jumped from it, ran up to his countryman and threw himself flat < on tho ground at his feet. The Solitary raised him up, embraced him; then threw himself at Robin's feet, and was in like manner raised up and embraced. The sailors all stood around, touched at the strangeness of this reception and welcome. Woodes Rogers, who took Selcraig,or Selkirk, off, thus describes his visit to the island— "February 1, 1709.—Toward noon we sent our yawl ashore with Captain Dover, Mr. Frye, and six men, all armed. Meanwhile, we and the 'Dutchess' tried to enter the bay; but there was such a strong wind blowing off shore, that it required all hands at the sails to avoid losing.them. "When this squall .passed, we had little or no wind. It seemed to come from the high plateau in the middle of the island. "As our boat did .not-come off, we sent our pinnace with men well armed, to ascertain what detained the yawl, for we began to fear that the Spaniards had a garrison on the island, and had seized our men. "We hoisted the signal agreed on, and the £ Dutchess' ran up the French flag. Our pinnace at once came off with a great load of lobsters, and among the crew we perceived a man dressed in goats'-skins, who seemed more savage than the original possessors of them. v* He had been four years and four months on the island, having been left there by Captain Stradling, commanding the 4 Cinque Ports.' "His name was Alexander Selkirk, and he was a native of Scotland. ;0 "He had been boatswain on the Cinque Ports,' a , Gro'svenor0 ship that had sailed previously with Captain Smoker О Dampier. I Mr. Eaton О "The latter told me that he was one of the best E. W. jj men on board, so I enrolled him at once as mate. ¡ The Widow's Mite .... о It was he who lit the fire seen from our ships last; R* p< night, after making us out to be English, "During his stay on the island he saw several \ ships pass, but only two came to anchor. "On running down to examine them he saw that they were Spanish, and made off, while they fired at him. ".Had they been French he would have given himself up to them; but he preferred to die alone on the island, rather than fall into the hands of the Spaniards in these parts, as he was afraid they, would kill him or send him to the mines as a slave; for they were not likely to spare one able to act as pilot on the Pacific. "These Spaniards landed before the knew it, and got so near him that he had hard work to.escape,; for they mot only fired on him, but,-pursued him into the .woods. ■ "He,'however, climbed up a tree, and? thought the men drew water and killed some goats just-under-it, they did not perceive him, but went off leaving-him safe in his leafy hiding-place. "He told us that he .was born at Largo, in Fife- shire, Scotland, and followed the sea from his boy- hood. "He explained his being left ashore by laying it to a quarrel.he had with his captain; this, and; the leaky condition, of ' the ship,-made him choose to re- main there to continuing ithe.voyage; he changed his mind in a day or two, but then the \ captain re- fused to take him on board. "He had once before been on the island to get wood and water, when two men of bis boat's crew were left ashore for six months, the ship havingJbecn chased by two French men-of-war. * "He had with him hisiclothes.and his bed, a gun, powder, balls; some ^tobacco, an axe, a knife, a pot, a Bible, some tools, as well as his books and mathe- matical instruments, "He used to by in his provisions «iswellashe could, and then endeavoured to divert his mind, but during the first eight months he had hard work to> overcome lib-melancholy and .horror on thinking of himself forsaken in so desolate a spot. "Selkirk built two huts of pimento trees, and thatched them with long herbs, then lined them with skins of the goats that he shot as he needed them; this was as long as his powder lasted, for he had only a pound. "When this was almost gone he obtained fire by rubbing two pieces of pimento wood together on his knees. "In the smaller hut, which was at some distance from the other, he laid up his provisions; in the larger one he slept, read, sang and nrayed: so that he was, he said, a better Christian in this solitude than he had ever been before, or than he feared he would ever be again." "Robinson Crusoe " was first printed in the year 1719, or ten years after Selkirk was taken off the island. THE BOYS OF ENGLAND LIFE-BOAT. Subscribed to by the Boys of England, Ireland, Scotland, anp Wales. Amount last acknowledged £280 5s. lOd. J. С 1 Mrs. F 0 Mr.W 1 C.N 0 Tommy Dodd 0 Mr. Wells 0 Poor Married Man 0 Miss II. and Mrs. В 0; Mis3 Poole 0 Jim Crow О -Mr. Boam 0 Mrs. Harrison 0 I Three Friends 1 ! E. Ford 0 ¡ A Well Wisher 0 Miss S 0 ! C. Smith 0 ! Mis. В 0 ! Not for Joe 0 I Two Nobodies 1 ■ A. Spencer 0 'Two Friends 0 Mr. G 0 Anything 0 . King Cole 0 1 The Cat О , Mr. Smith 0 ; M.D 0 ; M. T 0 Three Friends 1 I S. W 0 Little John and Bobin Hood 0 G. G. Brittlebank, Esq. 1 Will Scarlett and Friar Tuck 1 Mr. Greaves 0 Mr. Whitely 0 Crooked Sixpence.... 0 Small Beer 0 J. H о King Charlie 0 Three FourpennyPieces 1 Thrçe Friends"....,.... 1 E, Bradley, Esq 1 W. Elleby,Esq 1 A Friend О Ashbourne Chronicle .. 0 T. G. and Mr. M 0 Miss Brindley 0 J. Harrison 0 Drummer F.W. and J.R. О 6£ J. Walkerand В О 5 D. W. Smith, Esq 1 О Dick-a-Dick, and Bar- ney Shakles 0 10 Mr Morford '1 0 So-and-So 0 G Mr. Milncr and Mr. Barnes 1 0 M. Derbyshire and Mr. Sellers 1 О Four Frit nds 1 1 C. Peplce, Esq 2 О Mrs. Brittle*iank 1 0 G. W. M., Mr. R., and Mr. Bullock 0 11 •Mr. Wittaker and Mrs. Cooper I 3 T. Ferneyhough,Esq.. 1 0 Mrs. Strict 0 3 А. Г. Hogg, Esq 0 8' A Friend О С Amount received up to December 10, £482 Qs. 3d. A Hottentot got up a painting of heaven. It was enclosed with a fence made of eausages, while the counter was occupied with a fountain playing pot-pie. An Irishman lost his hat in a well, and was let down by a rope to recover it; hut the well being deep, and extremely dark withal, his courage failed him before he had reached the water. In vain did he call out to those above to pull him up; they lent a deaf ear to all he said, till at last? quite in despair, he bellowed out, "By St. Patrick, if ye don't draw me up, sure I'll cut the rope." Never was the French better translated into plain Saxon than in the story which is told of an ojid-fashioned couple, who received a card of invita- tion to dinner from some much gayer folks than themselves. At the bottom of the card was the then new " R. S. V. P." This puzzled the worthy pair. It might puzzle us in these days, although most, of us are a little better acquainted with the French — liespondez s'il vous plait (answer if you please). Tho old gentleman took a nap upon it, from which he was awakened by his helpmate, who said, after shaking him up, "My love, I have found it ©ut, R. S. v. P. means—remember six v.ery punctual." January I, is:o. 79 BOYS OF ENGLAND. (Sxsátxs tax ti]t Jfttgcmims. *** Original Contributions only* are required, and must be accompanied by.name and. address. Anypuztte or charade received after Üiis date, and found to have been copied from other publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from the same person will be accepted. № Puzzle will be accepted unless Oie Solutions areproperlv worked out. Numbered Charades in particular must have FULL answers sent with them* A town famous for its cheese; a town in Scotland : a town in England; a county of • Scotland; a desert in Africa; a town in Italy; a town in Scotland; a volcano in Sicily; a river in South America; a town in Franco; a town in Portugal; a river in America; a mountain in Wales; a town in France: a town in Italy. Tho initials read down- wards give the name of a celebrated physician. A. PALSIER. II. I am composed of 2 wordü of 14 letters. My 1,7» 3,3,14,10 is one who robs; my 0, 11,1, 12,14 is execration; my G, 4, 8,9,14,1,14 is true ; my 12,4,5. 9,14, is after; my 9,2,4,5 is money stamped; my 13, 5, 9,14 is one time; and 'my whole, dear reader, is a well-known adventurer. T. A. WOODCOCK. III. One of the gods; a celebrated work of middle ages; an ancicnt.building in Egypt; a town in England ; woman's name ;;, pertaining to a school. The intials read downwards and the finals npwards, wül give the name of a celebrated Roman. ALFRED 3IORTI1IER HYNES. IV. A town in Italy. A river of Germany. A country of'Europe. An .island in tho Mediterranean. A river in Africa. An English university. Part of Great Britain. 1,000 and ore 60 and beo 1,500 and rauch Ш and Ys 51 and eu CIO and roof SQ and Sawo My whole is a talo in tho Boys op England. C. F. DELCOMTN. V. My first is in beer but not in gin; My second is in lead but not in tin; My third is in heavy but not in light; My fourth is in black but not in white; My fifth is in king but not in queen; My sixth is in dirty but not in clean; My seventh is in many but not in few; My eighth is in red but not in blue; My ninth is in vaunt but not in boast; My tenth is in boil but not in roast; My eleventh is in scull but not in row; And my whole's a character in Red Snow." A. PALilEU. VI. A females name; . farewell; -furious; small human bones; a portion of land surrounded by water; the drink of the gods. 'My initials , and1 finals read downwards will give the name of the monk that shook the world. R. WELBUItN. VII. I am a word of fourteen letters. My 1, 2, 9 is a title; my 4, 5, 7, 8, 3 is a liquid ; my 10, 12, 12, 14 is a black substance; my 11, 12, 7 is the atmosphere; my 16, 2,13, 7, 8, 3 is a sort of bed for carry- ing the wounded on; my 10, 11, 12, 13 is a nativo of Scotland; and my whole is the name of a famous novelise. A. S. F, VIII. A and В together can mow a field of 72 square rods in a day. Their industry is as 3£ : 2g, and their strength as 2 : |. How many rods will each mow? E. T. IX, A and В have a race on bicycles. At the end of four minutes, when A has gone 1,100 yards, and has outstripped В by 27G yards, he is thrown; but, though he loses ground by the accident, and for tho rest of the course makes 7¡> yards a minuto less than before, he comes in 3-5th of о minute behind B. How long did the race last? E. T. X ,1 am in England, not in Spain; I am in joy, not in pain; I am in broad, not in wide; I am in heart, not in eido; I am in green, not in gray; I am in straw, not in hay; I am in boat, not in bay; If you find these letters and write them down, The editor of a good and cheap book will be found. E. J. Hodge. XL My whole is composed of 18 letters. My 8, 3, C, 11,15,10,12,12 is joy ? my 4. Ю, 11 is a boy; tiy C, 18,18, 9,16 is a fruit; my 8, 2,15 is a spirit; my 18, 9, G, 13,1С is a kind of dish; my 1, 6, 8,16,12 is hire; toy 13, 14, 1G is a part of foot; ту б, 16, ц, 2¿ G is a southern part of Asia; my 7, 10, 5, 9 is a kind of armour; my 17, 18 aro the intitials of my wholes title; and my whole is a great reformer and statesman. ".J. Hodge. XII. An ornament; a part of the head; a Spanish lady; a small boat; the abode of a bird; a scent; a bird. The initials name a tale in tho BOYS OP ENGLAND, and tho finals one of the characters of that tale. W. F. TIUNDEK Si E. Я. SUUNER. A qnairuped; an insect; a deadly, poisonous serpent; a King of Denmark, died 1252; a celebrated geologist, born in Fifeshire, 1767; a bird; a learned Jewish ductor in the third.century (В. C.) The initials read forwards, and the finals read backwards,*.will givo the name of a building used in the city of London for registering armorial beaiings. George Day. Correct Solutions Received.—Arthur Matcard, Thomas Beynolds, MacJohn Venning, A F. Clark. ANSWERS TO ENIGMAS, CHARADES, ETC., IN CHRISTMAS NUMBER. 1. Air-pump. 2. The tongue. 3. Cowl, owl, cow, Co., C. 4, Bust. W AR M *0 y\ R M i L a N ALOE VILE IrEnE ROPE ELBA LeEdS MEET REAL [AuDiT N e St S %* AU Communications to be addressed to the Editor, Mr. Edwin J. Brett, 173, Fleet Street, E.G. *»* We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal. %* Kumerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents in a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. %* Correspondents who wish to receive replies by post must in ail cases send stamped directed envelopes. Young Man in the Countrt When you come up from the country be suroyou pay a visit to the British Museum, and don't miss it. With reprard to the books, vou may Kue>s what the number must be, when 20,000* volumes alone were recently added to the Printed Book Department of the museum. Ihe library is now the finest In the world, and the courtesy oí the persons connected with all parts of the museum is proverbial. IIistouicus.-(1.) About the reign of the third George the western const of England was infested by pirates. (2.) Lindj Island is on the coast of Devonshire, and its area is about 1000 acres. There is only one landing-place to it, and that is on the eastern side, and upon which two men can scarcely walk abreast. The southern part is occupied by a lighthouse. Th * northern part is 2Ü0 feet high, and, in 1853, the number of inhabitants was 5i. Red IIALrn.—Before a drama can be performed, it must go into tiie hands of the Lord Chamberlain. You had better ßive up play writing; there-are thousands of good plays rotting on the shelves of tu с managers, unacted, (2.) Cer- tainly not ; it requires great Improvement. G. Floyd.-(1.) The Bristish Museum will be open to tho public on the 27th of December (Boxing Day), irom 10 till 4. (2.) When you arc there, ask the questions respecting the coins. O. T. lî. M.~(l.XThc trade you speak of are paid according to the work they do. (2.) The same rule applies to com- positors'; they are paid so much per Ю0О. Tomahawk.-By all means give over smoking; your case looks very like a softening of the brain, and smoking is very injurious to any one predisposed to that; at all events give it over for a time, and see what effect it will have. G. Fawx.- (1.) You can have all forwarded for 2s. 4d. (2,) Your father cannot (oree you into the army. (3.) You may improve in height slightly. (4.) Yes, capable of very great improvement. Live and Let Live—We have at all times stated that we hold the nations of England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales to be upon an equality in bravery, learning, and intelligence, and, so long as they continue united, they have little to fear lrom the rest of the world. J. В. C—We do not think you are entitled to compensation. Being a weekly tenant, you can only give or receive a week's notice. A. O. S.—Why not consult the market columns or the news- papers? Ihe retail price is trom Is. 4d. to 2s. per pound. We cannot answer your other question. Wriic to somo salesman in the New Market, Smithfield. J. X.—We gave an answer last week, but we again repeat It. The greatest breadth of the Atlantic is between the Peninsula of Florida and the Western Coast of Morocco in Africa. They are separated by upwards of 3,000 geogra- phical miles. A Greenwich GnosT.—Tho completion of the Nelson Column by plac'ng the lions on their pedestals, February 3rd, 18G7. 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Том О liEiixv.—The name of your bookseller from whom yon purchase the work will be the best. H. Graham.—We arc not aware of any alteration since the 6th October, 18ü7. A SKATEtt.-Tho accident on the Ico in the Regent's Park happened on January 16, ISrt7. Forty persons perished. Bicycle Bon.—Wo do not know of anything that will eradi- cate the marks you speak of. Cahadoc- Your suggestion shall be takeninto consideration, At present we have no space for one, Т. B. B.-Apply to Mr. Lacy, theatrical bookseller, Strand. W. i!. C—You will see' the tinw advertised. IMPORTANT TO ALL OUR READERS! OUR GRAND CHRISTMAS ШМВЕВ IS EE-PRINTED. The Extra Stories in it surpass anything wo have yet produced. THE BEST WRITERS OF THE DAT, Regardless of expense, have been engaged. NOTICE! THE GRAND CHRISTMAS DOUBLE NUMBER OP ТПЕ BOYS OF THE WORLD Will ho PUBLISHED ON WEDNESDAY NEXT. 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THE SIXTH VOL.UM OP THE «BOTS OF ENGLAND." Elegantly bound. Price 4s. PART XXXVI. of the BOTS OF ENGLAND IS NOW READY, ■/With a Splendid Coloured Picture of THE FLAGS OF THE BRITISH ARHT. PRICE Cd.; OR, BT POST, 7d. SPLENDID COVERS FOR BINDING ^YOL^ OF THE "BOTS OF EN GL AN JO." Aro Now Ready. Prico Is. 3d. NOTICE TO THE NEWS TRADE. Mb. Edwin J. Brett's works are -published only at 173, Meet Street. ALL BACK NUMBERS OAN BE HAD. • J AN ГАКУ I, 1670. 82 [January 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. "Lost, lost 1" whispered Harry, dropping his gun, just as Samuel bounded over the frail barrier. "Fire!" he cried, in a wild but com- manding voice, as he stooped to pick up the fallen gun. "Back!" shouted Ned, levelling his piece. "Harry, run for your life! wc are near the grave-cavern; the savages will not enter there." And, picking up the gun, he took to his heels. A shriek and a loud laugh made him turn in a few minutes to see Harry struggling in the arms of the young ruffian. Harry shrieked wildly for help. Samuel held him firmly with one t hand, while with tlie other he waved to the Indians to approach., Ned's rage was boundless. Why hail he not killed the wretch, and why should he have thus basely betrayed them to the Indians 1 If lie only liad known the truth! It was too late, however, now to repair the damage. To all appearance his companion—the boy he had learned to love—was lost to him for ever, and he seemed no longer to care even for his own life. Still, it was utterly useless for him to be taken also. The only chance was to remain free. With this conviction, he darted into a thicket with the two guns, and then fortunately finding himself on the top of a steep incline, slided, sitting, to the bottom. The Indians were too delighted with their capture, however, to take any notice of Ned, to- wards whom, in a few minutes, Carlo came, howling and moaning. As soon as Ned thought himself safe, he began to reflect. > Short as had been their acquaintance, ho now discovered that Harry Thorhton had found the soft place in his heart. He loved tlib i gentle, tender-sotiled boyas he would have loved a younger brother. And as much as he loved him did he hate the false, treacherous Samuel. What was to be done? Probably the Indians might make short work with them both, in Which case he would be utterly desolate and lone% At all events it was worth atrial to save Harry from their clutches. How to begin? Well—his heart was as true as his hand was firm, and thé worst that could happen was sharing the fate of his friend. After some repose and thought, Ned, finding that he was un pursued, rose from his place of concealment, examined the .priming of his two guns, and, restraining the ardour of Carlo, took his way along the foot of the slpjiö down which he had fallen so unexpectedly, in the direction of the spot where Harry Thornton had been cap- tured. He had a very vague idea of what he should do, but, like many öthers, he trusted very much indeed to the chapter of accidents. The sun was going down in the west, ere he^ in a round-about way, reached the spot, where the vile treachery of Samuel Petworth had given poor Harry up to the machinations of their enemies. ;»; .. Not a sign of white mart or redskin waâ now to be seen. Ned peered around j while Carlo sniffed about anxiously. At length the dog gave a low whine; he had found the trail. He looked up imploringly at Ned Summers, and wagged his bushy tail. "Go on, my faithful creature," said our hero; "come what may, wc will not desert him." And he at once followed in the track of the unfortunate boy and his savage captors. Over morass, through dense thickets, through woods, across a stream, marched Ned, weary, footsore, and sorrowful, but never daunted, until the midnight hour was nearly ap- proached. Then Carlo, whose paws were bleeding from thorns and briars, lay down, as if exhausted, on the sward. "Tired—poor fellow I" said Ned; "so am I— but, still, I wish we could go further on. Sleep and I will be unacquainted to-night.*' The dog, as he crouched at his feet, whined in a low, warning tone. Then Ned rose and looked about. They were close to a camp of Indians, which proved, on examination, to lie in a hollow near their feet. There were some faint embers in the centre, and around this the whole party lay. A dozen sleepers at least and two watchers, erect and armed. Where was the treacherous Samuel? Where the unfortunate Harry Î Ned could scarcely advance near enough to make this discovery. At all events, he determined to try. He surveyed the spot cssactly. The camp was bordered on one side by a thicket, while on the other Side was a spring. Between the two was the fire. Around, with their feet to the centre, lay the whole party. Beside the spring was one tall tree, against which leaned the sentries. They were smoking. Their eyes were closed ; but occasionally, as if to keep themselves awake, they spoke, in dreary and guttural monosyllables. Ned drew nearer and nearer, compelling Carlo to keep slightly behiud. In this way he at length reached the verge of the thicket. The sleepers were not more than five feet from him, and the nearest sleeper was Samuel Pet- worth, the traitor. Where was Harry? Ned looked slowly round. All the sleepers, except Samuel, appeared to be stalwart warriors. Harry was nowhere to be seen. Ned's heart was very sore at this discovery. What had become of his unfortunate companion; his fiiend, his comrade? Surely they could not have murdered the poor boy in cold blood Î Just as this idea crossed his mind, Carlo, who had been quietly sniffing about, sud- denly flew at Samuel, and caught him by the throat. Ned had only time to draw back into the thicket, when the whole camp was in a state of wild confusion. Samuel, with loud and furious curses, caught the dog round the neck, and tried to throttle him. The dog, howeter, finding himself about to be attacked on all sideëj let go and leaped into the thickets Ned had contrived to crawl to some con- siderable distance, but Carlo readily found him I Pursuit there was none. No one ventured for one moment to think that a mere boy would come near a camp of armed men. Ned, however, thought it wise to conceal himself in the dreariest hole he could find. He was resolved to follow them unto the death until he discovered the fate of Harry. Next morning he easily triade out the move ments of the Indians. He did not, however, make any attempt to move. They were preparing, he soon saw, to take their departure. With difficulty restraining the dog, he lay вШ1 until he heard them pass at no great distance, their shufiling and limping gait betraying them at a great distance. Still Ned Summers never moved until he was satisfied the whole party of savages were out of sight. Then he rose and cautiously returned to the camp they had just left. It was completely deserted. Carlo, however, found a sufficient supply of bones to satisfy him. Ned stood leaning on one gun with the other slung at his back. He was watching for the slightest sign of his beloved Harry. None showed themselves, "Lead on," said he, at last, in an angry tone the dog, which was wallowing in the spring close at hand. Carlo needed no second word. Lowering his head to the ground, and getting possession of the scent, he walked forward in a dignified manner. Ned followed. Instead of being downcast, he walked erect and proud, determined to do or die. For hours, however, nothing was seen of those who were ahead. Ned was compelled to satisfy his hunger with berries, roots, and sweet acorns. Water was not wanting. In this way, aided by his dog, he kept not far behind the marching party. He more than once actually heard their loud- toned voices. Now Ned knew that they were not more than eight or ten in number, with, he expected, two prisoners. They were armed simply with clubs, and bows and arrows, while he had three deadly barrels loaded. Why should he not surprise them, kill three or four by means of his fire-arms, and then, while the panic lasted, attack them, and rescue Harry, who must be their prisoner? If he failed, why then he could only lose his life. Second consideration, however, convinced him that to attack them in the open day was simply madness; all he could do was follow them up, which he did, until they made a halt during the noontide heat. About three hours after mid-day the Indians broke up their camp, and continued on their way. Guided by the burning embers, Ned entered the clearing where they had made their fire. Carlo, as usual, began to gambol about in search of bones and offal. Ned looked round in a melancholy mood. Suddenly his eye caught, fluttering on a branch, a email piece of black velvet. He flew towards it. He waá right. He had often noticed it round the neck of his companion. It was fastened on a horizontal branch. Ned eagerly clutched it, and found that it brought with it some choice morsels of food— venisoîl and Indian corn-cake. His heart beat wildly with joy. Kot only Натгу was safe, but Harry was satisfied that he was following. Welcome, indeed, was the refreshment, but more welcome still the pleasing intelligence that Harry was most certainly alive. He sat quietly over his meal for some time, shared it, of course, with Carlo, and then went on his way rejoicing. He knew that they could not*go much further in that direction* The sea was at no great distance. Were they about to carry his friend into captivity? If so, where? Well, ho could only follow and wait. The further journey was, however, doomed to be very short. Less than an hour after he quitted tho mid- day camp he was in sight of the ocean. There it lay before him, calm, blue and beau- tiful. , Scarcely a ripple moved the translucent waters. Ned's heart beat wildly. The canoes were drawn up on the shore. About a hundred yards from them was a per- fect village ï some twenty wigwams surrounded by a formidable stockade* From the height .at which he stood he could make out no sign of prisoners or Indians. Carlo, however, continued on his way, and, by a rugged and winding path, led him direct towards the wigwamSi Again the sun began to set, ^ Suddenly Carlo stood still, with tail and сага erect, as he heard the hark of dogs. It may be true that the canine race, when i wholly abandoned to themselves, lose the faculty of barking—from the absence of tho January i, 1670.J 83 BOYS OF ENGLAND. human voice, which certain philosophers declare is necessary for them to hear; but it is quite certain that Indian dogs are the most noisy, yelping cuts in creation, Carlo, who had heard nothing of the kind for nearly a twelvemonth, could scarcely com- mand himself. Ned, however, caught him by the collar, and checked his othenvise headlong course. The dog evidently intended making a totally unaided raid on the village. This would have ruined everything, betraying his presence and his hopes. The dog once checked, like the well-bred and obedient dog he was, yielded. The two descended the elope together. Night fell, as is always the case in the tropics, suddenly. It was quite dark when the two reached the confines of the village, The camp-fires were already lighted, and Ned determined to act at once. Carlo was left tied to the foot of a tree, about fifty yards from the camp. Ned advanced slowly, almost desperately— alone, to carry out his plans. There was no moon. He was able to get to the stockade before he even ran any chance of being noticed. Fortunately, he had selected the shadow of a row of trees by means of which to reach the primitive wall of the camp, which was simply a wattled stockade, eight feel? high, with a ditch on the outside. To a sailor this presented no great difficulty. In another moment, a tree, growing conve- niently at hand, Ned was over the stockade and in the interior of the camp, A wigwam was close to him. Ho crawled along the ground until he reached it, and then lifted boldly the skin of the tent. His amazement may bo conceived when he discovered, with his arms tied to two tent-poles, Harry Thornton, in the dress of an Indian squaw, very pretty and becoming, even \n that garb, but still disguised. "Harry 1" he whispered. "Heaven have mercy on mo! That voice V* gasped the unfortunate prisoner. "'Tis Ned—keep up, Harry—I am near I" continued Ned, in a low, hearty voice. "Save me now, or let me die 1" faintly ejacu- lated Harry. CHAPTER XVII. THE ESCAPE. Ned was perfectly bewildered to find Harry in the costume of a squaw, confined in a separate prison from Samuel. As, however, the important business was to escape, he forcbore to ask any questions. Harry was secured by the waist to the pole of the tent, but not otherwise bound. His companion, a woman in reality, seemed to keep constant watch upon him. A tomahawk lay close to her hand. Ned was well aware that she would not hesi- tate to use it, if necessary. What was, then, to be done? Any loud noise would be fatal! Still, no time was to be lost 1; Lifting up enough of the tent to allow his' head to pass through, he slowly, with something of the snake-like progress adopted by his ene- mies, began his venturesome attempt. A breath, a stumble, the faintest, slightest noise, and he was lost. Harry sat with his eyes closed. Painted, adorned with gewgaws, and made up admirably, he looked a very handsome squaw, thought Ned. But why this inexplicable disguise? This, however, was not the time to waste his thoughts on such a subject. Ho was soon beside the woman, who, though watching the unfortunate boy, had still her eyes nearly closed. Suddenly Harry moved forward, and the woman woke up thoroughly. This was the moment caught at by Ned. He knelt, and clasped his hands round her neck. A slight gurgle followed. "Help me, Harry !" whispered Ned; "thrust1 something in her mouth 1" The woman struggled more violently; but, finding that Ned squeezed all the tighter, she suddenly ceased. Harry, who seemed amazed and astounded, looked round the tent, and then made out some articles of Indian costume, which, without re- gard to their nature, he thrust into the mouth of the woman. With admirable celerity, Ned tied them behind. He then contrived to tie her hands and wrists. "Come!'* he said, in a low tone; "walk slowly—do not stumble or speak, or we are lost!" Harry made no reply; but, snatching up a bundle that was close to his hand, ho prepared to follow. The night was still and calm. Fortunately, it was dark, No moon, no stars, nothing but dark, heavy clouds. The door of the tent was open. Ned peered out. Far away on the edge of the village, at the entrance, was a small fire. One man stood close to it. This was the sentry they had to fear. Harry, as they walked, shook as with the ague; and Ned was every moment afraid he would stumble. "Calm yourself, Harry," he said, "or we are lost I" Harry nodded his head, and crept close to him. Ned at once put a tent between him and the sentry, and then looked round. They were close to a small wood, and he at once made for this. But his arms and ammunition lay on the opposite side, and must be secured. Will you remain here," asked Ned, "while I fetch my guns?" "Yes." (i Do not move a step," replied Ned, "or in the darknes"s I shall not be able to find you." "I will not move," said Harry, gently. "I will not be long," responded the brave youth, and began his journey. He had to turn the whole camp. Treading lightly, never pressing his foot on the ground until sure that he was not pressing on a dry stick, Ned advanced on his way. He kept the camp in sight, but screened him- self from all danger of being seen from it. At length, after twenty minutes of patience and crawling, he was close to the tree. He took the guns, and stood erect. The sentry was not twelve feet from him, and one false step would be ruin. Suddenly he stood in the act of listening, his : glaring eyes directed full upon Ned. Our hero stood motionless. He was beneath the dark shade of a yew-like tree. Slowly he backed, keeping a strict watch on the other, who, as if uncertain, made a step or two in advance. Ned still retreated, until at last he touched some bushes, through which he slowly backed. Here he was lost to sight. The sentry, apparently satisfied, returned to his place, and silently returned in search of Harry, who awaited him on the skirt of the wood, He had not moved, but he had concealed his strange disguise by putting his own clothes c-Ycr it. Ned laughed lowly as he gazed at his now rather comical figure. "You looked far better as a girl," ho whis- pered. "Don't say that again," replied Harry, sadly. "I know I am not brave like you; but do not call me girl." "Well, I won't," continued Ned, good-na- turedly. They now, clutching their guns, entered beneath the leafy roof of the wood. As soon as they had gone about a hundred yards, they held council. To remain anywhere near the savages was impossible. Where to go? Harry was quite lost. The only thing was to try and make a straight line from the camp. Ned looked up. Not a star. Suddenly a slight noise was heard close at hand, as of something bounding in the bushes, Both halted, and hastily levelled their guns. "Stop-don't fire," cried Harry; "'tis only Carlo. And so it was. The faithful dog had suc- ceeded in getting loose, and after a careful search had, indeed, found them. They were saved. The sagacious animal looked up in his master's face, who waved his hand to him to advance.^ :¡ Carlo trotted on slowly in front, as if he him- self were not very far from being fatigued. Presently he halted on the borders of a stream, and began to trot across, not to'swim. Both followed, and, in this way, soon reached the bottom of а Греку eminence, up which the dog led the way. ^ When the summit was reached, they found themselves on a ledge, sheltered from all wind, and very much like a natural cavern. Here they resolved to rest until dawn, when they would retreat to their cavern, and there await the departure of the savages. The dog nestled at their feet, and both the young people being tired, imitated his example. CHAPTER XVIH. PURSUED.! When Ned arose, he found.that,Цаггу had peen before him, having descended- to the river, and obliterated the paint with which the savages had daubed him. He had, too, removed the woman's dress, and stood erect in his own garb. They had nothing to eat; but, under the cir- cumstances, they cared not. The matter to be looked to was escape. They found themselves, now it was light, on a kind of table-land, which Harry appeared to re- cognise. "Why, we have worked round in a very mar- vellous way," he cried. "We arc not three miles from my cavern." Ned was delighted to hear it. At this instant a well-known sound caught his ears. It was human voices. Ned fell to the ground, pulling Harry with him. There they were, a dozen Indians, armed with spears, bows and arrows. They marched in the usual single file, and came straight to the river. "Follow," said Ned; •" there is nothing but to run openly." Harry at once obeyed, and, after drawing back out of sight, took once more to his heels. Before them was a small rocky plain, and over this they could hope to pass without leaving any trail. Ned encouraged Harry to make a dash, as the only chance of saving their lives. Carlo bounded before them. They had reached the very edge of the rocky plain, when a loud shout proclaimed that the enemy had sighted them. They were straining every nerve to come up. Before the unhappy fugitives were some thick bushes, into which they plunged. Plunged to fall down, down. Harry gave a loud shriek, and then all was still. When the savages came up, not a sign of the fugitives was to be seen.' Then arose a loud clamour, the savages running along the edge of the brushwood, but not venturing to enter it. They held back like men who knew the danger they were likely to incur. Presently, however, one party went one way and one another, peering carefully at the ground. At length they seemed satisfied, and going round the brushwood, moved in a direction 8-1 ÎÎOYS OF Г.К'ЛЬЛМ!). which niadc it likely they would won maci [ b wrn dead, Imvinv bat-n 1Лt* apaaiaa пааТ, McatiwUilc, what, had become of Nod and Папу? Tin', bada.1» f.rr»:\v or»-r a drep bn*-, «lang« tous ho ;•; к up vn:\!l pn-* -а «а I >..»„• - ;n;d w • flp-aara,, t <:.•** I" î V* aaa-aü iaa.í i: from ib-wa | Tb;- bf ;; >, ha uah< ••':t;it : ípby aaaho a b.< , aaad Tn'o lab' < а.» b,pa, {,;•,! ¡;i:i»:«T'Í, l-k^^liríi'^. j' Ро - аь tí;;' a aaw*.. i ' ¡-ai ¿ » i' " • , .a Faríamaieiy ida y wara baht wayhfa and íh-ar Н»»ч>4 • ,v 5 *>a • by <'<ааа*р í:s - Г wáa: cJofht.'K cwrjllí. in tía' bnbuv. W!UJ..„s/j:iT. Tbev were, il appaarcai suspended m the air. ^ *->аа bov.a ver, Х-ч iraal<-d bim a v,ad. A¿<* v.-a.af.N И an г'Г said-Ned, ^dd'-n>. d'm-ob а-; ,.flkb ba io '. b with я :-nhba Vr-,; but wbwr а^Г J' v/.-w v i-:". in "WIí-'ív is Г.о'о v/а -da; ;il 'л.-r. I: ,:a m.-y, Tbc. do.f rephud by jumping up und <:aî4;s.dnç '« ••" '" v' '''¡'-'itíi 1« -.b i bt-riii, s.i l!su' :,b'p tUuir fccU *'' ', Wí>ív îh'! n;;btfra,-1-:. 4tA!l т'ф\, Um fall cannot be preat," Faid л|-'" h<(,'n;n.f' '* ,]У U)V rT-7 •i:îv1 Xe i." a:i ' idabaa: n>. ne. ta y ! íf '!;"c;4vc; a:ah vi;,I; And ho let pi. b.;.:>';: mty JHiîn'" г,Г i 'arbs wl, . ,-:!;v;«y !!■■ !N'i-d '«I >;rM.,',d wH(;0ii?. ;mîv bin, and i'1 ■!v"*! 1 ■ > ¡ thv'j aidr.i Имгзу ío-к ^v;îi}," j'^ >v У *h, *b tf^rndiird b» tía,.' a li-'a. TbЬааиЛ,а- -a,. a aa-aiad, wbíbk Harry bada *'ati<> s-;\d acaaa li'a'aapîi awu!d THE К0ЫАКСВ OF PEERCH HISTOEY j-í:om TilV. КАШЛЯЛ" AGH«, У,у tí''- \aaa-;f '■*" м 1'л-п лаа I'jjwkxt,*' 'ba """"T^' ;,\ a-'-' Vi1 i ;;b;ít Щ ,;пр, a fbbbp» ])чк- fif O ríb<; bi? a* a a- •ar. '.viv ¡aa'-* маа'" wiaafpa'^ libe .saaaif-я on íln-ir ! / 'r bloinacj/K. i v,,,,i; ";! Fi-s1 Xad thrt'W tbwn bis !ai,-b. '^'bp4 la aa iaaaa! í ísíl 1'>а;-ааа aap а^та aaara iff n ■ '• 1 íáabaív н]а»"=к'> tía y" laad P« «aaawî ihraa:y;a nearly î.o-à, a way un ir , Uta". it t babb p,,t, *. Лаа-н i'av аал' b-ia^t-; ;.v¡a ¡a'; a ir>(m\ »- i -aa''. ib- ■ ;; aaab- \;i."d :>a o¡ íT; "ra'a ia < naa-a Ib/'. •«'aai a, ba> IVabaa.« al 'ЬчГ! a "ibb • vUs 'a;, y,.-!; bbma aa- íbaí íia ib' a aa •" , -, b. !< a-, s bid', а о 1 • -/aa v< pv 'iaa bnaaaaa aaia la'aaavar, ao рм>г ia cv a-p, - Та-! a!7a;d Kid ;a b í : aa^ib ia ¡ aa,bí<' ;' i '.l'A a üoibínY аааа.а-;. d,¡rh d al. fia- aaii-.-ab ¡ bu. a w: i'.-ii íaiaa. b aaa, duaaaaa 1 '•>>' ¡d, '!;■•< ■;. a,« bb'.baab a, aa ia v 'a b» pa be I ¡t ip). aaaí i !b"a: a\ J 1 1 p.,.v anai'i р-^.ааЧ do i'o;' t ianaaa.-«a^ « »í Jam..»KV î, h;-кi 8 Л ÜOVS Of ENGLAND, ïka I abek i,{ i bíVO * íVi-'iTYV' l p'au'e f <• .'.ule» ikih cuemics .saiví. - • .".ни w>rU. Thw.; ¡eavryer, к fi! \v !b,a. 1 !.. h,!a n "<> va.Mab: ;t war i P'r'í»í •••«nVriv:.- 4--" 1 \l<; i-e- í¡c|«- .: i ;ее b a; !' A <\"!.... j >paín í;i ;:' i'kiljp \ СШШПеОСеЬ íí,; 1 'и1 Ib-y a h whb'b w:¡- • 'W a*a» ;,:»' í iii'.' v. 'ars bel wcili г'кии': на ti! tVíу period eí hiea: vi.-hi'. haa Tía- khaî vra- .ter;:, ■ v/h»jn he was i í Л rt**«:í; a. ad ín Oí.' í>u! - < !' I i¡ ,r lotice „f UO'ÚVÍ^U be-aa .'¡.iiiisí ei* < T :-iab-, and s ¡ : е>!.Л; W be Ma¡ í.¡. i; '¡aaaaí-r * [ Kaai! ^in • 'vf h< КО i . ! IViat The < ^уае-еаЧи';,! p, л « 1j I it<- areaí* r parí, « -i! b -ttk XV.. the iiiüsb ]>: i 1<а».Ч íeb, «41 ai W;LS 1: the exS^îeîire of ;h< .и <■а at• аала»\а <»{' Ved abv, !; .a •,-."in, i ddep ;¡ : ; 11 < a he-s, "fui- < í i íí ■!• ■;.','<< ol «»,.;!¡i..¡i ¡/.'í\ve;i t Л < J >aí'I ?< a ef < a "U-'a î a i a'eia a h t., aaiuv aerean * , j s Si k i , ahb i vhh'h Vv ' : a aba '••! 14 !aa< a; a A an ;/r*;í ; í : »' 'ef î a" aU a a "'. iaeaaea! \vhke¡: k n' v/ji a1-' :a ¡: <■! i b ,"V eí ae ,!¡ К Га;;- ■!!' «Te.í aa aaeí ím an aai i- < a; î e Ьаам'Н eiaaeba'y, a, ¡ saaear e-.a) 1 ae \ t'-ií !•> ie;>. "Tava bv îi|e w,i« î Ьа.-аел eíf )if¡i'aea,îee, ~ ea;va. 'í'i.e eatue ■? ( ai huííc.s miv <>•'( 1 iiis ¡íí Яфраг! ef î aeír < «*t'i«l íne síaí'íí'air.-' m;\>lr íha !" ¡Liaw i aiíeula i;u the' líaieia 3'ÎH.:ï'C Wefe |>b'î!îly eí i •Ч,П.'.% ^iTeeír ¡I* bv" ll;e laH'iea V 'tir tneí During Ни* reiiríi oí Loîhh XV», еошши-се íoiá ■irts ílourísiicíl. excecdmyiy. î a'fore the e<")iiiïïH'isei;»a;n! (if fin war with iíia roiintry iïî îbc year 17,"Л, i'*raje'4e had al- a«-î ea;,»í î ?a- 'eaa»*íra.b« ;\< aa I i af <Л' -»«|¡r-(. Па' :f ííí ir - v.j'a 1 aj ke;. ra'«,l t!a' i'Jar, ïi a, me»st. lie, urí>birs¿ binlf, and the 'aliada was rxtroTociy íncratire. Liierai'ei'e, s cíe íí ce, and the lie aitaS<- !« inri ii'uiay v»!arias alai paU'ciia íiueiiua tbíH ivipiu Ja j'.'dnlk'H.', it i h í rue, tbey had ïie.ht: in (.uy»\4Î(>V}\\ í . V t r eV' !y ]мап îiatieb. with the the Italian?. In w.'îeia'e aral ï v< aiiiif actores r i anee wa-' (X*-el led h y bai^h'Huí. Uiir iNítiiííía v/aa ai-a a ramp'/í ít«»"' I'm г Ike paisa h¡ ïiivrniMViî* Moliere, l'erraulle, láiciiie, l'asehaí, Ik aèlon, i haeîer, iïe,--1,!*'!. mal l'eabai», were I be jr'.«»ry eí f be rcíjíl) • 4' LoitÍS XIV. *, \k,bairr. Ikaae-eau, {''«нНеиеИе, Gal- lia'í, !t'A ;* • ?? J "ííaüai i bbí^a.a'Juriie,! tisal oí' Leus- X\b Eijglaiiii, íimiiig tlie ¿ame periud, v¡ uld Im a;»', ef THaHs» ?a Addison, Swiít, Nbwíe», aial ïaaiay aM- eí t/n ï*ej»W'll. Ill a Weak íe»' íl. w O.u re le V.'lio e er eiíjoy íl'« ealiii scn i.iL>a Jr>* a|"fn lizil!^ Iniit;- !-o ¡iwtiy bway i tvü. íivaag taam wnviec l>v tac v.'ftV, ïïi reüdi ef ub ; foaî yet *J.Toa|ïli"i' 11 оь!" An au ял! t'íísiícr. a word ítiítjniy •• jx)ken, Âuû lrn Ijeílip";, t'bail W ar eí'ítnaí; c! r.ti )y Ьткш; IVIaía <-ií;y pn.lf, Hat fa rpea t »•■'..i«b«M eaal.iv by lit л.ч<|< i If link.- Of rtîî tin; liräf.i'b l y which tïtt'tnrth fa í К, ;ia>t - Jí) rrsde m ira h* tî-e va.tst; Ь< r îlit tiwh the n¡i;4'itt<4' r: v* freiti цн 1шг, ЛЬ'{ leaaee-' í t e !е»аадее f.!" luluîk «U'H«»ir, Инг- laoiihU'r раьаой, iîit; a «ifiiiii» btîuals, Airh t*;< lia- bt-aiî a îavsiHîar haa.î woukl î ha- tha: Ьл 1,1 bybb^e -íí", í!\t aiab u а < • >atpa ; а , ' v - b 1 !.« ''r: Uu'<*- b-aiía baa.-í lni,.r>:,l ca"aî a *a tkf 'aa < a,<' litiü' v.-ffi! th(! «aorta и. *> 5ni^ t4> rт; Ai.ú f HL.k'f '.и-!! a • кк'СШ " huw tu a-»u: b 'Hi,; тш, * па* ?Л v: дп <»еа- í V аа! е< т яреаееа! t-f < i¡r-. ünaíba^ а }>.И1\ ef пи™ \ he oîbi?r dny m 'i>NaP, Uniibrtil ÍJ-eJH the reíalaeíer \\h:û tjj.- ha-u iî. 'lia* fjraí V»ap:e.'a \\(ач; intended for, -IV) dear the f<«iw«/" "Wall," вМ Ц ^aiiulvhai aie г!,о>с ;u the aaceLd for?". й Te baba ;h< kiaie'" иаа tka- ,:»-p!\, ь4 Л mi ibnl old Y^mr.badid man in' the thW —v. kit ia he fur ï" was the next i :<Лд<1, to wiiieti the teply we ha»b' my r.aîai-; we shall cemetery with him. Г* Ош bki ne! iueiere furiiieia "be!l>*. béa- v»,í, i ke е]. г;-} icaib. l< <• î !,:■! Яаа- dr,y У" ^ prt îiif4 rfa-a"? fa'.ik1 ,fefai. •* ! b-îkvp itwn» Ui4h-. í'h. heb-ur ia\ ;-huït uitlutay! J <-ubt r* «'.ihh-ri île- pke f, bai 'bu- v.l.mis wvïv a^uju.i, за>аа aab bike y-air ;•<■>!. *,f «Л'Пан ilíb ht1 топке of l.L.il. John "Í doli4 knew/ ^ам ihe reply, ** for htb ejukiiiek*, k,Leii ieibjaa aa tb.ai tibí h :j- í íy, ала \vw>!,-'-:â: у» ¡baba,' T ?e ia.y-îb П1 î.;»y" У » at. veuf word îi*r ».i¡,vs aî.(| I ]¡t*\ef iiwvko tííl a fier I be , limon." M - h, ata'' a y.-'r« ;< , ',■ "Come, Charley," at last he said,. " this will never do." • . And he patted him kindly on the back. "Come, be a man." ■},'■ "Ah I Bob," replied the other,looking up, "I thought I should have "been one once, and a happy one ; but it's all over—all over 1" And he rose slowly up. "It's nothing of the sort, Charley ; there is a dark cloud hanging over you at present, but do you mean to tell me that there is no light behind it? If you have made a mistake once show the world that you can repair it, and you will soon find that the dark past will be for- gotten in the bright future." "Ah ! Bob, I wish I hadn't" "Nonsense 1 I know; come here; I want to say something to you." , And he led the way into the counting-house. * "And when you have done I shall havc:somc- thing to say to you," was Charley's reply. "Well, hear me first; the master has made np his mind that you shall come back, and bygones shall be bygones." "But the men, Bob?" "The first man or boy that upbraids you with the past will be shown the outside of that door; and so keep a stout heart upon'it;, and we'll sec what next week will bring forth ; in' the mean time take that." . / And he pressed something into his hand. "I won't have it, Bob, it's a sovereign." "I hope it is, and a good one ; all I know is that it's hon "he checked himself, for he saw a flush pass over Charley's face, "my own, Charley; and I give it. you to enable you to get some better clothes; and, not to hurt your pride, when you get all right again you shall pay me back." "I will, by all that's due from one to another," was the reply, while the tears ran' down his cheeks. "I know you will, and so now good-night." And Bob proceeded to put put the light. The bicycle was already at the door, and waiting for its master, and Bob had only to extinguish the gas, to look round that all was right, and then to start homeward bound, « Don't put out the light yet, Bob. I want, to tell you something. Have you been paid a large sum of money to-night?" Bob started, and looked inquiringly at Charley, as though he would read his inmost soul, for a dark suspicion flashed across his mind. "Why—why do you ask?"' *: "Merely to be sure that I am right." "Eight about what?" "Whether it is to this factory the money has been paid, or whether it was only the boasting of a drunken braggart." boYS OF ENGLAND. СМ Tí и, к i! I.M ».Y 'íMK ТПКИЛТ; ¡iíl, o,j ¡MHíV HAMi WAS ТИКГ-Т J.% IIIS »»«и:К í"í\ '* What ís il you mea:;, < 'ЬчгЬ у; 'лр» ab ллЬ ' v, b\ I will voii ?1> )î!V УУ.Л ol '* VfS, I was ,t:.f,d;i,.' jt, П;-л? »<' j'y- Li- bur MÍ 1h<> puUi«' v<'j¿ 1 hlV<' ОГ ÍU1H' ÎÎM-П In Ио.чм <"'/, •} [ и-y, j "П Ibíb, * lu'V \У*ТЛ 1 !И4 'ЛЛЛЛ H.*-!!, < i,i>Л ' Л á b Hb ЛЧ 'il L 1 '* Í ч< S .'!<- ' <-i;î t b' dfs^d, Vbat !i's>M f«. t h h: Ши; ni; •/." * I o, > r", ,d-> .;,'(• r bin;. '* Л H' \<>îi /av.' y «л'о г- ^ mbi:û. л, < п И'\<л ' Л"; ¡;.V'„ i- 41 Ob' по, 1 *»; Ь и. 1 eothd pi'к j h" 'y ;:c;d If'M'îH nu! f'h.fii .! m;.1 t\ i ЛмЬ<" -р|м * . Г i ,. Л ;; - f - b и , ■' - my пплЬ t" uairh Пл'ль win !> lit- lb;1,! im>;mitd j !h" |'.ч<-! <■?;,■: -'!;, u- .i'c Л • л y :!'., (f Ihitty, i hiv.v d>avh a .••« > % < ■ r< ■ ï ¡. Tb<- w:-,i' "í,' y < лЬ "*л\ IííOJmi 1:1. ÍS*' V,';ï'- <ПП'<.:]Пм'"' i У Н<И;!, ain! И; ;í ¡ p;¡ •; o¡ ЛУЧ,:.y v.. ¡ í n a very I- w nunwiíl •! a Ii--,;:.-; b< < an h <Ь;У"-! "(i!,' ч:, ' b »b'"V found, I n< rdnd b-li i"':'-! i>4plb,4 ü; Л;;ч.-..",! ! s y '! 4 d WHh on ;;ü!ü !ли «• л-Ь<лу bada't a ЬлУч;; • . í; ,. > : v,;.^,;,( t, ü:; Ь iî, î«ï,H \\v> Л\\\^ -да |. :!Л" -Ií;- 'Tb» '<Ч(.,-Л, j,!.-'!'-- г-. fb»i?> phi'.l У im Vi'i tí i¡;¡. ••.'!.!' -, •' S Гг<ли i \;>, ¡í \, ,¡ У . ,, \| , •! íh.ul )u¡ Iv.í-i p.iid a lury.-s!n;; ío ;! Hirr.-ry < Ь s ••,.,,t(i:!r»i¡ b> í ;; ' Л , !л-Ун! гл it \v;¡- 1!л:'г','р!У 1 wí-'ií ii'íív>- 1 'haiv у b¡ bu,;;i. i u V-n-yy Ь-î, ni" b.i\o j'í'1'; ,:»í;-r :i ! Уы, \v..;:í'i; ig' a race with •л í; »D í У ¡y \\4>,ii;¡ : ;ün sii'Hti.i :i<>l т:т\ , Л*и: to 1Л,'.-Л УЛ1 V.'iî. i 4' H«;.J-, I V;trhyv- -Vi'íí! Л í('V, i* Y»-U líi..»!" V, :K I tbr n.'pyv. У, {"У ,;(; *У<. у;.,л ¡ Ai tí:.'U л;п;;н-!Л, tin-y ib-ir«! «п.- «м-нь! (¡! л i •A íl-< î tW ÜKXÍ l!H>?¡,. 1Л ¡í «I i ? ( - Й'1 - i :!}!"!!,' ?Л, ' \ ^ J '(, ■];>■< \ ,\ \ J.Mik«;-! lit CbiU'i'-y UM ¡i M.vl-.Tiini w!,a! . | 'И*,;, Ь ! I, *Ч Л-ииЛ, î ЛЛУ, I ;!Ы Ум- ьл! W'fM'ii i .--;« '1" 'Л г I НЮГн'Г Ь-ч'П p¡t¡y hi-ií'. I'. .Ь." -■<."•:'< i ¡ ^' \V«'!Î, Г;«'У < '<уЛ-У у. )ч«Л ;,.'<: л ПИЛ' iJÍ ib" Í Л;. Ул-, , , "1 îÎH-!i.*r.t и?* лл'.л;, илЛ саШ.л t-* Wal л | л , i ,,.¡ >,,- !, УЛ1<У \\ЛЛ^ t l*':piy. 1 /•"//,;'< , - \\У.,Л; ЛгЛ ДЬ-Л! w.m;»;, ;' ¡ ! i,. У '» а; «Улулл-лууУ^ ^ ( !"r!i/'ä''' ;4 ^ *1ЛЬЛЛ Л*: лл;-î : ЛПЛ лЬ< 'Л Г;.;Л; !<'¡.|'. î h" !» и л 1 \ '<' . f « ■ л \\ \\btyf f,»- U».\.,xw; иЧ< '• лк-» ИЮм:. ! Lave ул: ,ч,.;:<л л^л. <Лл Í Ь'лц л!!' t ;л- л'л^л!,; f-лн' л',<.1,:-; * р с,,.' » , л, , ^л- м;у;гг% ,h 'Л<-л! Л-'..;!!'У. М,,« • s. i'/'. ¡¡¡ .^*J'"tV Ul^ní !,;'!(,. ';Ал*', / , лл w t Wi^uPiny, ¡ni" Ь' л;< i'» y <í î л,,г. уыл1 лл;. л;л, lït'b: * ;S;,-,y(; ;u I! 'W!:y ti ^ f/b:?í¡ y: 1 I sido oí the road, while lus companion was run- -i Í' - л,i лл, pa:!' ' i.i л-; í-y i « • ; by* ou îb • р;л, л, i Hrcpít* aU ííiiíí, f he f<*lli»vv driving the роит- -i -лг-г!-» йплл4 ', лЬ;;,л- * ш иу'а гаи «'VíT В-1Л vty,ís{¡- Nv.^b.i ;ini 1 - lbill.a f*f Hb- ïib''i b,«f): "where are you лг^'.'Ц Ii um uul Uni J riiiiî^iii-' tu. eh Г - 0>,<'"- ynn У' sui-l Il ;лл,:1! г^У'", "il yOU mío ií-.iá cuiiimiiied tbt. ; duiid, kee-p uut ut the \\tfcy t?r *.ц vour right ; h,: vv.cí. ibe иль.ubi - ; ьпУ *'; ; "I am и» my rbdit Fidi-." w:;f- ïho reply. !'! ^ »bîi( \У;Л b Лр-Л "ilil^lbph' uf íVlwllj % V..KÍ ini Л t.. MÍM и\- Г Iii. V ,;л рлл.], л. largy tum oí , "And v rw y-, a jyKy well ri^bi, for being ! u¡¡ рлу <»f itMw -íiíN-ni-'fc f ЬЬлуч,"'said he. г. my Imbf fdUi the шаи { "Xiait i.< л^ Ьц.чЬи'** of voiir*.'* chiroed in л old !*. ¡,wv » ' i"¡,uvl>-y : ** ít\ p,dd Ь>", juní tbuiV more tima •d v.dif^ \vv.--' 1л reality i спя b«r Huid nf уопг к::,.1* i if ab i...' h ¡a -л!Ь 1 '(*«. \v;4s »,?¡ i h* !; ; лЬ-г^лл, und лл1'' *л.:лЛ ;у îbc г:,л v/b- f; ad i.-; л i]\t' р|;и'Л lo грлилч-,!; und нм the f*dî«nvt ПьчЫц.; а a.¡d.t it: ib: íba1( 1 saw with an híiu d',»vvu, hi,.*, that ,j4.jüíjey лЬн-к di die public," muttered tv чьи Ь, îiv-.- bim io bib " <'1b¡rl< у, |,;Г"л- v baverbi loht lumbî iitme»1* - *H,4u42d~*~w«ï kîtow tint1 Wirbr.Ht члушу an'»t,h*/r word, tbny wmt on |Лулл, nui! ibey'arrived at tbevbbî that bad yînл, 1л! w*4íi rapidly c-íT. ib- .-n aibaHa-d île- f<"'v; nb.:ht< рп-гго»;^. -'«•л, лм b', tl.civ . - i и élu»! a- w:;b; 1Ь.-г»« Charky th>u«rt,l it iiu*o ím j,ut ín pruohVe ПЛ*| W*4i.;ii Л1 ,улчлл;Л aïbî the 1Л.ЧЛ, : tint f>but 1л* had rc-a!\a-d oïb л wuiií лл Íi,/í* h¡m «ruVt rapidly Ы1, ¡ (To be coneímM hi oor nt«.tb. C^mmví:^ în No. 1*и,) ira ^мьл'г or this í-k^i-íj: »ji:i> лт tum inn*. A STRANGE CAREER; nu. тш; mint's vr-thi, ГИЛП'КК V !П,—(о/^/м/оок) I * w.-fï-Гг mm-b." Lui sím],|„'4í N,bí?rf., тешет- i ostler to lemî h ira or sell Mm a smock to go jí'tTHi- »hat lk.tf\ ш^шгу с.1Ы mí exactly í oxor Ь:я bbick «-ИВ-*, a?ni a rtMfifb \vnNi\vnk<* I amr-.jmtfo an invitation to brrakfa*. * f H t«av<- juA, V>a;u-* . k<* !, лч that unüvibaal | tuwarüs Loîidon. ^^;&;^îf г'"1:',;1"^ î!l;lî bppjp':B,i in :<-t:..-!vd wnh LU .,:dc.r, " i.\v., im.jvaip,;. Will j Tko нт hy 1 îii^ iîm»t hhbbny; br^bllv on hair, I f "Thaïs rbrh:» И^у." ли';! .U*>\ #\Y';U ÍBp o-i ' pt,:Bb »Ii« J/' ivpB-d fi, •'•«',' 1 iît:'*' tra v'"b¡b tîaj jreiiilenian MB-* u„ íIhj j (iY« live h, bun.b.-n/wi'h your parent:-- I ineaiB * j pjvKum ж" г, В г .s» v. ЬВЬ fí/i| Iii паоч i'I^mx'.;"!' Íí«'í' ha ок. As a,-k. >; < * 0 0 В В Г В-'" b olía and tbi> »)/ ¡v<-!ía,!íit ГсОааВЬ oí a fa< Уил íu:;.dBi шкЛ UUih .*¡i*." ib nrh!' ,k V»'" h:v,a< i„( к.гоаю-! Вч ^ briv- bo<-a Vi-ry .¡..(¡•.h„ u • Bokm" timidly al üs.-ar. í!;ííií:ij¡ií wouivi bf- ! lomr ^iea 'biispN- Bar, in IBV V.V,;t,V.r'¿¡.r,' ;;'i!ît,,î fa.ihl.vs Ьш. 1 ^»<>}Wt at tbw nuisis гошагк, !Г, ;ï Vani. bav<» •'•;'m-': 'r'i: 1 îim lb'' * Uni 1 ia-«. ь:г! I кыдук y«* i 'Inri i ; yua'r,' a ; îhhuv^s <)Vî г l!,^m : ^î^^ >u'v • Î! 'П-^п a I 'V»m are au, early U-avdkr, ип^;- paiij Ь^д1 „ - <> ;í*:ti% , , vim." тпИн*а Oscar, laa^'Uuig. "Cuuic, - Fîr,%f ;Лн« îvplâ.vî, willt a swect sîïiw;. ■ ^p;^^^ ,iit|4 l£ct yli vrry fast..** i, \!0t ;my bu.t'mn* Лое Ы with me;' b,i-v" hU* ÍV.iV.w eutc-rca the room. о Г furniture/1 ^ { y,*..^! Wallt Í'/Г \ .-y liUly/' CK.'.tr si/'с 1, a?» i woïai'uvl \î bís fatii wa,s biark a> be baayiu-l íi. lio ha^t sîJîrb'.a in laVwith Ь('Ии' ргонрпс.!^, but I,,-. nnt fir.-y"> biv'!¡lia,;/iî| hs,> гиаа!на*, ¡ л:- í'kbly m tr-- <«.:.<:■ î *.v;,y i?l wbi-Ь b^ ad- .;ak «4' a МЫ lo/ari. ♦'Ibibo'i» fi,yv." b*. « ^cb'i.m'-d, ь Ь.чу^ ууц bоrríi.Í a. r:4ijnp:i!rÎoîî '/*" *k o<-ai k'aain su bbt ^oav in, *)oü,*f *• Ib'pc yiiiib'í,' i-'ir/1 ^iib ЛiMr. ') ííít.k y.;*/ ; a'ri vr"V b .a/ry. 4-\У<-;Ь ь;г." как! t;;*<' wur.i-v, *ia!fj'iia; fhc î*"ba: min, <.Ы Jamaica, orb, !Л V.Tr *• braaoyks tb'.1 b ^i, 1 tkbb.." ,.akl 0>г«аГ. Vua яга riybi, sir. -Now, Ci&>y% what wili you kavt'.'" *• Nu!ha: íbank yina" bbyv is y<,«ar visK-r, I p:v\«uiii'!?" "U'/b*. -b"r — пука y,u arc," i-arlaiairb Joe. íife.-аг kok, ! al 1 к- pb'i's « ,x vy*e, ■n '. d tbnhy «i hi-- o,Aar 'o..-- ..!'! i Mied in Ii: ids, He was ich was in p ..art <•;■ hA , of yaH bos y о L Oe obthrknie; j'.fov.'J an bapoamaUa yro? eat a у and Hio Am/m-Nm-man kid^bi.- « omin,,' t;p ht ауу«.<аугау атеАпо, omit i jack Ha- brave I a; h¡ ими V- aa t "ш-ч -h. Î ()o. V b НАеуНаО ï'i(M.!"'!l il V, ,-•1:1 Hlboo bat t';;«. baa- o oom " m.» d î.» mioy hv a Th.'v ¿mr.-.m.d ii. oeiya i imam wie Normans. i h С i) "UV SO \\ í,h, hhn.íli-h Cl'OWn hy ¡' I- <"!*;¡fí y ho Но Г , Aon' o;.,;,; jt;i Henry, the first Jtnglísk king of that name. j alarmed than ever, Wmio i'li'n yy y> î а к, -с h: !•', araba,, hi.- | НА n« -л . ¡. h î-■ - •.; h«<: .Wap« h !; í î ï y.rhmm her h,..,!, ami ios on h-r i < h;- m , n< y,h V( .'•îail' d from bhaauaody f...r himbanb bo io- :h- > i -es '¡ ; >" h - y?» •• fît or !»• m • ■• ïîiî"j* h * xj'i-.ljt ii.u in wbi h:i<'k he» » af rhmmy, A-on y n« mTy his m ybyv :Í■.»-( ! m h o Ho A if, Iii* father. Wiho--- jhc: ;i;,!í-' V, ;:•'.;»!" ;,г, I 't: ; 1 Im.,-", Ííoüí 1 he sAoh habí bne ¡o A his' :h;: < ho . угу \vj-» !у r< ■ í о,. !o ,> i r m¡ a;;-'"у: I'lO 'h¡- In,' w;ny ih;oy ¡i-, mící, П- new h.* ■m.'H'aro!h', 1 a i'.-hí, ■ yi-z/'w^ ííí;..\v -h' < x'w ohc.ary <;n¡m,!.y, líe ;v;„''!nl hh- cn?..t río-f ;-an- ••». <)..;:;._ !;«ayv - ,h ; a-! h ,,, - ;w ra i Го a « î o-n--h* aya , !I < * » '00 roa н> o i.is ( ow- «a> тч >a ay 4 я. ,.,,¡ yt ab,| !■•,•■,,!;/. !Ь o f. ia: nah inw^WOV t.-> 'h- ia WW a h i î h ■ l. • > ' ■• r 'Í,. > s ■ .a y'h h- io =: h i-a* ¡ О a,» î hwo v>;»í;- í oa.-aaa T¡. Lí;:;s,^ ha *i.t\ íuroan; « 4' ai"! he- • ■ ho ir » hawaak, '\\iti> lo - a .¡'¡ai' < <¡ a- aaaO ^, î ;.« f'aaa ;4" Лч}>»п .a-a!. a v/ar-'a . i»1'', «"-y -O < a«'h, aal l!»'îi;v. íh í acaon; o ] hh a.oo" O.. • *a ■ '-.vr. * í la-t i.^ai/'' ,."<; o W ;c¡,i¡ -"u !iis ,«'¡a o - w-OaOW 0 - « h: ¡ « « a oh' ah I (h" Oaaa, ai'.» - /• i ia- aa'h, ,\l(a!«;o 'lia-, a",a;. 0« ■ !,. • ;• ,'■ ii!"., '[>'■'> '■ '** -y. >(î" »a«yaaa ■ i ;,y naoiy < чуо ,-■ . í • i >.'hy, ahí aay,!':aarh l)a;,r Ih-'a-'ít Oí на/ r¡0--a.- a.i ¡" a.-wa ! - , .-..a'- o- i, íimi '. a iy ;oT"ao.-и aaa >. ,,¡\ana, :ay ". !a.i a, O;, o-' i.(' ( *,'i!-hh., i !h ' í , 'i »< a- h,-a aaa a ;■; ¡,;,i,i' -y iM lahh-: 'I i ' a Oh O w » с Ь г . ;¡, ;У 1 s ■ a " ■ < ,, :; aiîOi'!' ,\í ha, > y .a/ í.f ;aa- O|;0¡ a' ^ ■ Í- 'h ia,o.i íh.-'aa.ia- a. a„ о. * 0 sar-h T'aay луг-'-о o , ut a ai: ! aaOaiy lao, i - h:- v.ao a<-'î-- .,;;;h-', ih-a;;, i»'.h^'«i ^ 'а<*аанО<а î-; о •!'. a oa • a aa? о-y. j i( , h .p „, t, t{]и, 0« Oaa-OW- aa iaa,^.;;aaaaî o. toa* i >: о s: aaî îa' ы a;f -.VrO « a); «'hri-O-oh-ч». ',a,;0 ni' ici - a : ou.à.'û. î (O oa j ïw- Í '•<• . !í aaia,!" о < h; wh< >y/-aovi-,1 *• f.;ne Га;( ;hc hha-avad ahi'.o,, ula ]М4'а^ау, Ob î hot i v<-о ;h • hof>! ia / :: s ■Г i . -! W i. ,■ '".i a. í hiW ,,'» I 'Ijo1-'- i;i.O П.'ОаОа hf O/i-. -' O':!;-* aa ч'/aih OWO a- raai-Iy ih'.'O'.O'aO ta < v, i í i:h !';¡a Г r< an hhîtu î ha !' íii¡ Va! pn.o-as of Ko; Liari . Ihh 1 ¡o,>- < \ ~ lo.- or» saic-', w*'}m a j aOü «• i •;' i anoc> a'h-at« ■!. I ai.a'- O hall Oí O.' Sa~ЩШР***ЩВ' 'Рес1аНг111 W:1S îîrt bonis r^ninod aiaroa'd, ami reWoyd \vi!!a»ui dalny tu tfot the ^¡fr 4 faithful to hts y« i«* haVM ihurîicd a «З.чи-.d.di r was now okydd. yoara old, '' 1 broke whh io-ory, aoo oowe m«ач» :-w;;dai Ню laa о rvatiîK, tîuwssio'j lha tndîo hiift.'Oacl to . "fiance oí yaao- < 'lib a hiV «djaiiibcr, where. thi«y i'^utul hUu а-Ь-ор, Tlayv - !ib* \v;h î,<-'w <.f a murrias-abo; асл, аш! Hoe awoke hiiu, and tx-aped with him, and earned f\ >u'*Jri '//; '.'• . •' .'' , ailiaa<-«y wioah vans raw U,v a third time < s;a- lidm in safety to their master. '.A""-'-"' .'" __..A ''' f 'biislmd, was е.-пк-г!»-.» by the count he i o hadofx Tin* latter paid a heavy ]>гач* for the trust- :.. • t- , r _ j to him ob- иНпог .;;о,о/1и,-т, Sybil, in mumay". worHoda-ss of his retainer* and Iii« r\vn fidelity; ;Rut onea raoo Ha; ei'.dhy Ileioy ioorrvaa>'d; --da* wan dasyvih-d » v lh"nr> la! all hoHp>a.! • y and a third time Нм-соеоИ iai>«dy drew back from "aadiWfc, Ib'earri'H him U> HaefA nn: of Aojáis, - ' • a'- - a*- his pb-„'hi/-d ir.nh. wha van ohi'd \ü¿ jiO'iîaat h >п ha t lam;r¡ h .ri anafe; ■; 11 tiaheaaoh bey -od sa- a- noy чеум' hi di. h-maim The r»M<-fit wa.s f.,r н-т.- tina.' |a;:sa.*d with ot.naoi of" whom wer«* n< bh htoh'o v/hone : ea,. !my. And 0 vmy uoh./oaeo-' o>oi I ,r doubtful î O'o^a ia arts oversowed with ,-yi:no.athy f< r bis hapless « rbi'> «."a ;rr-d aa,:s iauj.yaima- ,y. !! Old ehroni'd'.rs ieil 0- thai p»-r Пока IhAz-rf, position. У" I У'-', ha;' Hi- ad. Ha- \\!a-ic ierm «d his s-ahs die 5 in twelfth year-he had passed Hie last, few years Ulrichen ta death, fn/htin- by Hii^V Hde at the 1 OardifT ba>. И,-- ^' -ne. >л Anj; and at líos o-adi r e"b he oírl on tin- î t!:at í îh«, of bd^ b.m 'bt-a.- H-'oki • y-a-< Ho a;yA **Ab. ! 1 fear my >"! i4-hu«ad !*' y.» avyiy and weaooa'-M-fAo ktoyid. m Упа h<-p" ,,f* . ¡« -:ь! ¡a b\ # "aa., a* >a- o. "; Tía- dowm was 'Hrdd iy cab i a-'oaaô" a 01 wha h Ja ¡ yo vbau - id íaríno''; IA» y hao :, . « , y\harp <; >•.,•:' ; -Aa. I baoy , ojah-r Hs уа.чГ щк an bona :o, arbhrarrmnt of fair warfare. i dito, althoistfh ^' }"> hl'uh ha-i 'a- mi b<: <'o.-Ha.-o1 bv !¡,x p../i»'aoo't tha, < \a«at «n Anion, i; hjsh^atyhp.r, oek'.rd > í fAaiylaad, aao h nah íhon "ií Иегоу pîayod nfjon Hot aupid'dy ,d üm e-orod. no'i Oídc,e.-,i }VlU¡ Li,i vií¡y 10 bo ak oh'í Hm oa"0>',Ia buh 1,0 wnhdrosv í'ra-ш Hao marHa! adi- are-e. 'liar bíO'O whieh ací» d a- a ha ids* raj Ha: u*^,t. Ы(м lo < Adío A ílr-i i rahierm, waos î Le fair Aim i у/ i-A H,.- v:,'.,? ;ь о с aoy-rtm-d ro.vaa face ho,y kfpt. los istia, rio oh.».:0 dura.'O.'C in Hardof í A: î'". I at Ibooo A bvud. Huí lb- weiAih-rord a ad cuy bid «-f у'.'0's/d i- y m,.'d mid a.iei.'satoe a - itaiaii 'i îooh{ ,,¡' a paay >o!aíoiaf a h a 'aa i •• h*H bra', yd rO o an -oaí ia-d it¡ a score id* ibdhso (T1,; ha ÎT ís sí",o.o.-, baf wry wo'.a-ohs ImHa.md is i км d. V Г ¡ ал M' i Ayo f Ada; О С"П '<>" i;a' ;(, h /'-a maiv mr Üm ür-'b tim«a И:о,л' ар Id-- bandyav т.ошо:у —4- Ay Нтоот! wIoA a ya ..m „tye BOYS OF EKGLAND. 93 the boys of mïïihnb[\:::^ wb,*1^Ä^ STOBY T£UXR. b ЯМ* ШШ Inn. а b г »•! knov.'íi ; !... Ь;;: a ■ }í*t . ,¡:x and transí vi her ti» tb* «-pot. .•. -: bu îb- ?пчп^'—Urb,?/ H í«\.m T¡;¡'\'í:¡ii l'üi '»•,! In i*, 4,' tiu > ;,;< r-b j: 4 î b- ¡ ;>.'::'.; ;('» ! parc, ».íí«í;m'Í;';'' ''»VC ?'• ¡I » * !л ,' ><'.•> • <,>' »!. í I" П!Г'''Г ЬлЬгЬк t »rv.,- bvniK'Hí ;H'4n:li!l«''j with Lb Vb, vb. >nb"'' i,*'- «;t}, l • r».'ÑÍ-.]', (1, b*r \vi" h b^ ;'!4''f ".Mr- , . '.).' '..«Ib :.:! b! . :' ib «*;íja- '4 - ;>.a;:¡- br o-; í ;:'bl 'Уt.' y Iví.í ;,;<;,. ,.¡, íl',;¡п1у îb<" two Пиа! *логЬ; b ilaWHtri'l: цл,:-л:к. "};y угли- !с;И'(1 ?>r Jiotbííi tí.;,- t'V.;îi- "Ami,*' ii.iorjH .,ч»ч! M г, АЬЬк- wctrOiy, "1:«"Г.> í,^ "tíг mo *J»»vtii, aí'ter a 'r'-HiLíí'ul ¿ux)d ubi mhikbo: g;¡.V' ■ a ¡;b! \ ytí>< :bb rnar, .;:.-.r»Í ."л ib- 'bf.H-h, b:-w manu a".-, iñh&pclQzs bonds drifted acress Tïi a ri h.tá ínviítrq Thï- Hrr-;u tbcrra} ruiibby ri'.r-f th'' гу" iai^l' Ьг.ч,. b i- ,i:d :', -r » Ib' n fnl'd: ij.irrv bv-b,<^ -л síL ];;.;S.¡in'ur lu thu r-n;rriîv«, althcr Hl(l '!b I.' 'I* ;• -f , bil I; .д ;| 1 ','<;;: ífid '"'4', <и <:b;' V !'b* «'"'^ <<"b- 1¡¡. ¡ « f ! Iii' , Hi- y, >tt the j TI young I Lï ií ií» r ; imát ! Tb>- .- . ybybeb Hi-n'-n-clii j i-.oi^nllyb'H \ *br»'dby ;n>i,,»d .« ; ydb'':! ■]■■■> .«) b "f'«' i'-'v¿-i íi:yj-:: íb.Lj ;i«:lbu, w if и no î.tn> •r from th^ таг,*п ir. ïbfa ,"тЬЬ /f t'l,i.s.'.' ;*■ ^ Cl f b. bina bn»" .di b t'b- 'î,;- :«• :!'•;,!'::<•;, '" \Vby ?^4. win il !,м<а îaojn.y vd'ü 1ь «о Ьг -I !г ;. ¡,,, - • •:. i¡*» а ! lb ;а<"; '/ 'I Íаi - ; у; yl;sfi , \%v nbl ^'»ji, ( Ikí анан'У у,т l'-b-b-^ Г) b\y, I — *л о îïiU.-f П'Я U-\ "л bf'« hînml in Üi»t wuy. Oai'i: in, i лиг î,'/,s-'i';-vbï;, wc nti^ fb ï h': г«»игл rv, Jbb and all, Ii. v,,d two bb îo n.b,d. и/, 1 yyif'^'í," la a.dnlfd* vbbh a biliar, f '} y« rs'i'/iay I iu;di, y i i/.' [; ib r fat!îa:nia жь'з'а; г«\у!у vf/iU ibb wbívh JliIi fab »1 t<» bVíTÍa-ar; lira. ,•!;<• !\aiгч-! ! I- bb Í >jк- } yaaba:*» а aa еж- tensîfe tract of land adjoining bis « a, a, a ad ta-- а*<аа \ *<. a- > j ,y, t угг5м,а ¡r*■ y ttaay.' »rirb l'br a a т-ааЫ :da' H', aaai aanaî io In l'-a- /»a. •< ;; lîa- la, ï-;1 .-la* yn-'-v a.da.r a.-i la ¡ heart rose up pmmâs dc;âaal, cou» tageous. db* wadil mv<" fila î ids: b<<< :aa,-s art умаакЬ ; a«»- a ííaíiai'- v.a. "í bí- h, y idb зга l lier father were making ready Us t-Urt. T<« а а Ь^агу rbaa ír<«a; : a'-î'dta* •1 iba *a«....v, '. >л 'by };,« ¡v , mí !b- d—, la .d !' a» .-<" í b-' v.t.f'k b ;•»%%>'<■' I« aa-a*' 1 ban a -"гма!» •aa.í î»., a . ':b:,' .aad^.aa-d lar 'abaa ob .b ïi îaa- ;a-;.,a«,a : aa'd d aad b ]> «a! f .a-dd a,a! *b" -чан d d <> !>а< » Í îi-.< a. 4rV,..v .... ^ a a), У a . . ^-a •< y--/^;^: ^; .j^'"' * ^ ^ ''^ : 1 ;, -."a bi -r í ' î ''*::»"» la;, î; ,/';■' i.aib'd 'й1«п î b* « «aaa| ■ ;* : - ob, »a d t b-b» b, • ',, , b a -au ¡r ас; tbar" :4araba.r ^ ï.i j;,- ».,-aP. ,»f la a,,«d ; a a .^fa'/а''у, rvd. aaa ^aaaby, Í (aïb»aaady b aabyr ÍK.-tb-' r }.'■<.{.'!">>,-, lia. a.ddfv--!. a , a 'î' a. v<-'i '.v., ,-bb;y il '• Í аал-г ! Ь на; -Ь'/ч'ЬЬш laa r¡ >? » • \< ís,, d! ■ а-» , , !, -а; -'av'_ ' ta,, ^ I * î у у а ьаа • y^aibbw .у.ш, lai.'',, i;»".: а Йп а; . ■ - <а * i л lana <а* -'a¡ «< rd(,í а<", a va: ra a tb ia » луЬ b r d i,'--, .a v-b.r yd bb Vbî-b ^ d - •»'.' wa- ra? ad^.akb.'i bai ;daa«aby ad-'aa adí av. -.bb) ",rî "'b--; »«vj i/lvv r ;,,ii> a bryva raaa,. ''.liai ^ a' , y;ay í b- varíala, • (a: y aaa d a-"av !aa : ay. bv !a îv t« y. îanaai a>- ¡ на- a yaJJi thai îcd '»'rc-f tba favlibbto tbvír j b.atau. 94 [ JANUABT 1,1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. It was hia intention to return as soon as he had conducted hia sister home, take charge of the horse, and, if possible, learn moro respecting the [night's adventure. Neither recognised the person who gave them the timely warning; and Khoderick had not the faintest idea that it was gentle Lila Wyndo who had saved his life. Their retreating footsteps had not died away before old Casper Wynde entered the glen, glancing about him at every Btcp, аз though he feared their prcv had escaped. What his conjectures were on finding the horse and gig there, we cannot say; but a glimmering of the truth must have come to him there, for, after a moment's hesitation, he sprang into the gig, seized the reins, and drove rapidly down the glen to the spot where Carl was lying in conceal- ment. At the bottom of the vehicle was a large fur cloak, which Ithoderick had worn and forgotten in his hasty departure, and almost unconsciously the old man drew this closely about his shoulders. Attired thus, a casual observer would have easily mistaken him for Rhoderick Orvis. Their height was almost similar, and their figures were certainly much the same. By this time he had gained the end of the glen; he, jumped out and walked on a few yards in ad- vance. A moment after the report of a pistol rang out, and a bullet whistled along the beach. That shot was a fatal one. Lila, hurrying breathlessly homeward, heard it and shuddered. She had meant to avoid the spot where she guessed her father and Carl laid in wait for their victim; but now, impelled by a stronger curiosity than she could resist, she ran thither. It was an open space at the end of the glen, covered almost with huge boulders, around which the road wound like a great white serpent; and when she reached the place, a strange sight met her eyes. Carl Conner was standing beside the prostrate form of her father; far down the road she saw a horse and gig going at a fearful speed, running away. Lila grew pale as the dead. 6ho took a step nearer Carl, and this was but to confirm the fear that suddenly smote her—her father was dead! Yes, dead I and the moonlight streaming about him, showed a fatal wound in his breast, from which the blood was oozing in a crimson stream. When she saw Rhoderick's cloak lying near him —even then she recognised it—her mind grasped the truth. Carl had mistaken her father for Roderick Orvis and shot him dead. And it was so—the old fisherman rode straight to his doom. Slowly tho horrified girl turned to Carl. His face looked, in the weirdly-glimmering moon- light, the colour of death itself j a violent tremor shook him from head to foot; ho seemed paralysed with horror. He moved toward her; but she waved him off. "Go Г she said, slowly, solemnly, sternly. « Go, and never let me look upon your face again. Go, and may the orphan's curse for ever follow you!" Without a word, without daring( to cast a glance at tho rigid form of his miserable victim, tho guilty, terrified villain slunk away, never to return. Then Lila Wynde's senses reeled, and pale and ghastly, she sank to tho earth beside the dead body of her father. And thus Rhoderick Orvis found her a few moments later. It was a long time before Lila recovered from the effect of the dreadful shock she received that night, or ceased to think of her father's terrible fate. And when she became Rhoderick's Wife (for I married them about two years afterwards), even the limitless love he lavished upon her did not suffice to banish it entirely from her mind. • * » * • Every one thanked the worthy gentleman, who, after he had taken a single glass of good ale, de< • parted. , , Tom Hawser then volunteered a song, and struck up- 11 You gentlemen of England Who live at home in case.'* Great applause followed, and other songs were sung. At length the host gavo tho signal for departure, and at a very reasonable hour, the company separated. (To be continued.) Why is Asia like a market shed in Christmas week? Because there ir Turkey in it. PRESUMPTIVE PROOF. In tho year 1632. Thomas Harris kept the "Rising Sun," a public-house about eighteen miles from York, on the road to Newcastle. Harris had a man and maid servant; tho man, whose name was Morgan, he kept in the threefold capacity of waiter, ostler and gardener. James Gray, a blacksmith, travelling on foot to Edinburgh, stopped at Harris's, supped and lay there. Early in the morning, Morgan went secretly to a neighbouring magistrate, and gave information that his master, Harris, had just then murdered the traveller, James Gray, in his bed. A warrant was issued, and Harris apprehended. He positively denied the charge, and Morgan as positively affirmed it; deposing that he saw Harris on the stranger's bed, strangling him, and that he came too late to save his life; and that Harris's plea was, the deceased was in a fit, and he instantly retired, and made a feint as of going down stairs, but creeping up very softly to an adjoining room, he there, through a keyhole, saw his master rifling tho breeches pockets of the deceased. Harris peremptorily denied every part of this story from the beginning to the end; and the body- having, by order of the magistrate, been inspected, and no mark of violence appearing, Harris was on the point of being discharged, when the maid ser- vant desired, also, to bo sworn. She deposed that almost directly after her master came down in tho morning, as she must conceive, from the traveller's room, she saw him go into the garden—being unknown to her master, in a back wash-house that overlooked it—saw him take some gold out of his pocket, wrap it up in something, and bury it at the foot of a tree, in a private corner of tho place. Harris turned pale at the deposition. He [could give no direct answer as to the money. A constable was despatched with the girl, and tho cash, amounting to upwards of thirty pounds, was found I The accused acknowledged the hiding of the money, but with so many hesitations, and answered every question with such unwillingness and apparent re- luctance, that aU doubts of his guilt were done away, and the magistrate committed him for trial. Harris was brought to tho bar at York Summer Assizes, about a week after his commitment, Harris, in his defence, endeavoured to invalidate the charge by asserting that the whole of Morgan's testimony was false; that the money which he buried was his own property, honestly come by; and hidden there for its better security ; and that his behaviour before the magistrate on this particular arose from tho shame of acknowledging his natural covetousness —not from any consciousness of guilt. The judge then summed up the evidence, remark, ing strongly on the circumstance of tho hiding of the money, and the weakness of the prisoner's reasons for his so hiding it; and tho jury, just Con- sulting together for two minutes, brought in their verdict—Guilty! Harris was executed pursuant to his sentence, persevering in his declaration of innocence. The truth came out at last. Harris was entirely innocent I Morgan and the maid were not only fellow- servants, but sweethearts. Harris's Buspecting, covetous temper was well known to both, and the girl once, by accident, perceiving her master burying something, told Morgan of the circumstance. He, acting as gardener, took an opportunity when at work to dig for it : it proved to be five guineas. He left it there and told the girl. Thev settled not to touch the money, but to keep watching their master, as they had no doubt he would add to the amount. When it arose to a good sum, they agreed to plunder the hiding-place together, marry, and set up in some way of business. One day, in a quarrel, Harris struck his man Morgan several times. Morgan determined on revenge. At that exact period James Gray arrived. Mor- gan found him next morning dead m his bed. The diabolical thought struck Morgan of first charging Harris with robbing and murdering Gray, and then of plundering the hiding-place while his master should be in prison. This he communicated to tho maid, and obtained her concurrence. Morgan then gave the information to the magis- trate, as before stated. The girl, unexpectedly finding the accusation likely to break down, and fearing lest her sweet- heart should be indicted for perjury if her master was released, the expedient struck her at the moment of sacrificing the hidden money as well as her master to the safety of her paramour. The whole of tiiis stupendous tissue of wickedness came to light early in the year 1G4J3, on a quarrel between Morgan and the girl. They were taken up, in consequence, and com- mitted to prison, but escaped the public punish- ment due to their crime by dying before trial of a gaol fever. Harris's innocence became further illustrated by its being found out that James Gray, the supposed murdered man, had had two attacks of apoplexy some months previous to his death, and that he was never master of five pounds at one time during his life. GIPSY GIRL'S SONG. The queen hath a crown of bright diamonds to wear, Tho countess rich pearls for her dark gleaming hair; Tho merchant's proud wife hath a hood of rich pall, But mine is a coronet fairer than ail. Sweet roses of June, newly-plucked from tho bush, In the dew-gleaming dawn, or tho twilight's poft hush, My summer crown forms. Oh, my heart throbs with glco, For they tell me I'm fair, and I know I am free. The queen hath great nobles her crown to adore, The countess, yeung pages, and maidens ft score, The merchant's proud wife hath her husband to sway; But I am as joyful and happy as they. In the oak-shadowed glade, in the fairies* retreat, I list to fond whispers, full, fervent, and sweet. My love he is poor, but a monarch to me! Young, merry, and jovial, and handsome, and free. The queen and tho countess look cheerless and dull, The merchant's proud wife hath no rosc3 to cull. How can they bo joyful in town and in tower — Far away from the mountain, the meadow, tbo bower Tho scent of the woodbine outvies each perfumo That hangs on the air of tbo close-crowded room; Oh, the smeU of tho heather is dearest to me, For amongst its sweet blossoms I know I am free. When tho summer smiles sweetest I rovo through tho land, The gay merry queen of a gay merry band; While the queen and tho countess, and merchant's proud wife fiit pining in prisons .which hold them for life. Jly prison's unbounded, my lonest retreat, A high reaching hill, a rock Is my scat. Then away to tho wood, to tho shore, to tho lea, For in Nature's sweet golitudes there you'll bo free. A Young lady explained to her inamorata the distinction between printing and publishing, and at the conclusion of her remarks, by way of illustra- tion, she said: "You may print a kiss on my cheek, but you must not publish it." TíIB educational examiners of Akron, Ohio, recently asked a female applicant to teach, ""What would you do to a pupil who whispered?" "I would first use moral suasion," she said, "and, if that failed, would resort to capital punishment." She was excused. In the lobby of an inn at the head of the Scotch Lochs, the following inscription was painted on the wall in conspicuous letters, "No person will get "credit for whisky in this house, but those that pay the money down." Jones met Smith as he was going on board a steamer, and asked—" Which way, Smith, up or down?" "That depends upon circumstances," remarked the latter; "if I got a berth over tho boiler, I shall probably go up; if in the cabin, down." "Do you call that a veal-cutlet, waiter?" said an old gentleman, dining at a restaurant, "Why, it's an insult to every true calf in the country!" "Well, sir, I didn't mean to insult you," returned the waiter. A modern writer gives the following enumera- tion of a female eye:—"The glare, the stare, tho sneer, the invitation, the defiance, the denial, thej consent, the glance of love, the flush of rage, the, sparkling of hope, the languishment of softness, the squint of suspicion, the fire of jealousy, mà tho lustre of pleasure." • The attendant of the witty Matthews in his last illness, intended to give his patient some medicine: but a few moments afterwards it was discovered that the medicine was nothing but ink, which had been taken from the phial by mistake, and his friend exclaimed : "Good heavens 11 have given you ink 1" "Never mind, my boy," said Matthews, faintly.-, "I'll swallow a bit of blotting-paper.'; # AB a party of gentlemen were taking dinner at a country inn, one of the guests found the poultry rather tough. After exercising his ingenuity to no effect in trying to dissect an old fowl, he turned to the waiter, and asked—"Havo you such a thing as a powder-flask?" "No, sir, we have not. Do you want one?" "Why, yes. I think the shortest way would be to blow the fellow up." January i, 1870.J 95 BOYS OF ENGLAND. THE ENCHANTED BRISTLES. BY JAMES GREENWOOD. In the days of tho magicians, there lived in her father's castle a young lady, who being the most beautiful of her sex, was, therefore, so silly as to imagino herself to be most superior in every other respect. Perhaps, however, the mistake was chiefly due to the fact that no one whom she honoured with her acquaintance had the honesty or courage to con- tradict her in anything. She was proud, overbearing, and arrogant, and of a temper that would brook no opposition. One day she went hunting with her father in tho forest that surrounded the castle, when presently she began to complain of lack of sport, and declared that the dogs were of no more use in starting game than a pack of turnspits. "Why, look you," said she, "they go nosing and sniffing about, and can find nothing, when what they seek stands grazing unconcerned not fifty paces distant; see yonder buck I" And she pointed with her gloved hand. But with great respect, an old huntsman declared that what she mistook for a buck was nothing else than a swineherd in his buffi leather jerkin and leggings reclining against a tree. And truly she should now have found her error, but she was blinded with chagrin at hearing her attendants titter, and fitting,an arrow to her bow, declared that whatever the beast was it would serve to shoot at, and sped the shaft with spiteful vigour. Next instant the company were made awaro of the result of her wicked impatience. Instead of a pair of antlers two human hands were tossed in the air, and such a cry was uttered as never came from buck's throat yet. It was indeed a swineherd that had been shot, a young man who had been busy over a sick hog that lay under a tree. But, even when they convinced her of the awful mischief she had done^ and the young man's mother came to her wailing and wringing her hands because her only son was shot through the heart, she felt no compassion or remorse. She laughed, and declared it not so bad, since swineherds were more plentiful than deer it seemed; it was only fair that animals that were most nume- rous should be the first to be thinned. Finding that the lady only mocked her, the old woman turned away, and hurrying to a remote part of the forest where a magician, friendly to swine- herds, lived, she told him her grief; and he was mightily indignant, for it was not the first time that the lady of the castle had injured and oppressed these poor people. "She shall pay you moro gold than your son would have earned had ho lived to be ninety," said the magician, wrathfully. "Nay, it is not gold I want; I want my child 1" wailed the old woman. "I am nearly blind, as you may perceive; and I am so feeble and lame, that without somebody's arm to rest on, I can get along no faster than a snail, I cannot get strength to walk, or eyes to see out of gold." "But you can't have your son back," replied the magician. "What would be the uso of him with a hole in hisheart? However, leave the matter with me till фпоггелг, and I will see what may be done." So he changed himself into a boar's shape, and next morning he encountered the beautiful lady of the castle taking a solitary walk. ' She was crossing a narrow path in the thicket, and the boar placed Itself so that she could not pass. She did not lack courage, and though she had no other weapon than a light riding whip, she struck tho great- tusked creature with that, and bade him move aside. Had she lived in disenchanted times, it might have surprised her to hear a boar speak j not but that even in modern days, it is no uncommon occurrence to hear of a "pig's whisper;" and there is scarcely a fair in the country at which a pig, more or less learned, may not be found. "It will be time for me, fair lady, to obey com- mands of thine when I am a trespasser within the walls of thy great castle, which saints forbid !" and he displayed his great yellow tusks in an ugly grin as he said the words, "It is thou who art trespassing here, fair lady, and if thou art wise thou wilt retrace thy steps,'* "That never will I for any tíreature alive, let alone the hideous brute thou art," returned the high-spirited baron's daughter, again raising her whip; "make way, Sir Pig, or I score thy hide before it's time." "Were I no more than a pig—a common pig—I might think it high honour to have my hide scored by thy fair hand i" replied the enchanted boar, laying his cloven hoof over his heart, and leering horribly, "but I am a boar of more ambitious breed, and if my fair lady would pass this way, she may only do so on one condition." "And what may that be ?'* eneered the beauty, scornfully. "Thou must give me a ring of thine to wear, fair lady." i "Aye 1 that thou mayst be sure of» and by this j token, thou amiable monster!" And as she spoke she gave tho boar a cut with her stinging whip right across his face. "Thou shalt have an iron ring thrust through thy snout as soon as my father's foresters, knowing thee again by tho mark 1¡ havo set on thee, shall make thee a prisoner." The little pink eyes of the enchanted boar twinkled ragefully as he felt the smart öf the lady's whip, and listened to her scofilng words, but ho restrained his temper. "Now that I think of it," said he, gallantly modifying the natural harshness of his voice, "now that I think of it, I am afraid that the gift of a ring might hardly satisfy me. I must have something more precious—something by which I may remember thee to the last day of my life I" "What say est thou to oui cook's knifo in thy throat? That will serve thee to reflect on whilst thou hast a drop of blood in thy ugly carcase," "Nay, thou art too hard on me I" pleaded the boar, with a languishing air. "All I entreat is that thou wilt salute the bristles of my mane with thy rosy lips; then thou shalt have freedom of the forest, and may come and go at thy fair plea- sure." But the request was so preposterous that the haughty beauty laughed aloud. "When that happens," said she, "there will be no need for mo to crave of theo freedom of the forest ; it will be my right, as a swinish brute such as thou art." "That being a bargain of thy making, fair lady, thou wilt not grumble to fulfil it when the time comes?" "Aye, when the time comes," she replied, still laughing at the animal's audacity, "when, with lips of mine, I approach the filthy bristles of thy mane, I shall be content to be no better than thou art," "That is a fair contract," replied the boar, bowing low, and with his cunning eyes twinkling maliciously. Then ho went his way and the lady went hers. The lady went hers, and in ten minutes forgot all about her meeting with the insolent pig, and the latter went his way bound on tho business in hand. His part of tho contract was easily fulfilled; he made for a path where there was a great, rough- barked tree, and rasping Ыз mano against it, speedily rasped out a good handful of bristles. Then he assumed his proper shape, and strolled home to his hut, as though quite satisfied with his morning's work. He was satisfied because he knew precisely what would happen. He was fully awaro that at odd times came wan- dering through the woods an old man with a bag, whose business it was to pick up bristles. When he made up a bagful he carried them to the city and sold them to a merchant who dealt in brushes and brooms. All manner of brushes this merchant dealt in, and as he was the only one of his craft living there- about, all who stood щ need of such ware dealt with him. Of course tho magician knew all about this. Coming along tho path next morning, great was the old bristle-picker's delight to discover such a prime heap of hairs. It just made up his bagful, and away he trotted to the town. A month after, the merchant's waggon, drawn by mules, stopped for orders at the castle, where lived the count and his haughty daughter. But nothing was required of the merchant ex- cepting some small and fancy goods for the haughty beauty's toilette. Nobody noticed it, but just as the porter was shutting the gate after the brush dealer, there darted in a little brown mouse. This was the magician. Still, without being observed, he followed the maid who bore the tiny brushes up the broad stair- case, and to tho door of her ladyship's private chamber, at which the maid entered. But the mouse remained outside, He did not remain a mouse long, however. Exerting his magical power, the enchanter, in the space of five seconds, became a boar; exactly the huge, great-tusked brute that the lady hatl con- versed with in the forest. He reared himself on his hind legs, and applied his ear to the keyhole of the door. The haughty and arrogant beauty was scolding her maid, "Is this a brush fit for my hair?" he heard her scream in a passion. "How dare you bring me such a thing? Look at this discoloured streak down the ivory back of it 1" And then was heard tho sound of a hard slap, and the- faint cry of ono who daro not cry louder. The great boar at the keyhole wagged his stump of a tail, and grinned till you might have counted all his teeth. He took his ear from the keyhole, and placed his eye there instead. "And here's a pretty brush to clean a lady's teeth with !" pursued the count's daughter, spitefully. "A clumsy thing! It would make a better knuckle rapper. Try if it wouldn't! Now cry again, you booby. Get me some warm water, unless I'm to stand here with the tooth-brush in my hand all dayl" The great boar's stumpy tail wagged faster and faster. Ho watched the maid, whose poor knuckles wero bleeding, bring the warm water; he saw the mis- tress dip the little brush into it and raise it to her mouth. He waited to see no more. With a mighty push of his great shoulder ho stove the door in with a crash, and stood revealed before the appalled beauty, while the maid fainted in fright. The lady would havo screamed out, but the spell of enchantment was already on her. "The terms of our contract arc fulfilled," harshly grunted the great boar. "Thou hast saluted tho bristles of my mane with thy rosy lips, and so hast earned freedom of the forest, and that in the shape that thou hast chosen." Nothing more was said; but there was heard by the servants at dinner in tho kitchen a strange and heavy scampering down the great oak stairs, and there was seen by the warder on duty atop of his tower, the uncommon spectacle of two creatures of boar shape scampering up the avenue cheek by jowl, and leaping at a bound the high wall that abutted on the grim forest. Pretty True.—Some author says that one of tho uses of adversity is to bring us out. That's true- particularly at the knees and elbows. 96 [Jánüabt i, is;o. BOYS OF ENGLAND. CxHito for \\t Мщьшт. •m* original Contributions only are required, and mutt be accompanied byname and address. Any puzzle or charade received after this date, and found to have been copied from other publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from the same person will be accepted, No Puzzle will be accepted unless the Solutions areproperly uorked, out. Numbered. Charades in particular must have ÏTJLL answers sent with them. .: i. My first U in walk, butnot la run; My second is In play, but not in fun; J My third is in tumbler, but not in glass; My fourth is in male, but not in lass; My filth is in run, but not in walk; My sixth: is in lamb, but not in pork; ; My leventh Is in horse, but not in maro; My eighth is in orange, but not in pear, And my whole is a celebrated battle-field. ABTUUR Crick. и. À bird; an animal often mentioned in the bible; a river in Egypt; a county in England; a river in America; a town in Norfolk. The initials read downwards will give tho name of a celebrated city. Arthur Crick. r in. I am a word of 19 letters. My 17,5,19,3,18,1G is a pleco of ground; my 6,15,7,2, 14 is of the greatest use to man; my 4, 11.' 1G, 17, 12 is a part of the human body; my 13,18, Д, 7¿ 12 is a county in England; my 7,13,1,11,12,8 is a bird; my 10, 16, 1, 14, 9.4 is à part of a gun ; and my whole is a good tale in the Young Men of üheat Britain. A. T. Crick. IV/ >: I consist of 18 letters. My 13, ß, 16, J3, 2,is an island of Scotland; my 4, 10, 14 is an animal ; my 3,8,2 is a place to keep wild animals in; my 7,13,2,11 is part of ono's self ; my 15, 7,1, 2,3,17,5 Is a noise î my,9,0,11,18,16 is to command; my 6, 12, 4 is part of one's self ; and my whole is a tale found in the Bors of England Journal. Charles Caley. v. My firsfJÍB a watery substnnce, And of very great demand; My, secondis bothroush and smooth, Arid my whole when first found . Contains my first.; *'' Charles Caley, - :ЛЛ * I consist of 44 letters. *' My 12,41,1,18, 32,4is a very near relative; my 10, 6, 29, 34 is the name of a woman ; my 29, 7,16, 9, 2, 33,44,30, lb, 35 is an English city; my 13, 20, 26, 3 is a Scotch county; my 17,5,40,22,11,8 ban import of great demand; my 19, 38,1G, 14,25 is a man's name ; my 26, 37,21, 31 is iormd in the 39,3,41 ; my,36,43, 7, 40, 19, .32, 24 Í3 made froui part of an animal; my 8; 3, 42, 27, 23, 39 are of African origin; my 16, 28, 4, 29, 41, 8 Is a man's name; and my, whole is found inr tho Boys, of England Journal. '' '; ;1■" '' f; VII. Charles Caley. A native of Middle Asia ; a domestic animal ; to accoutre; a great warrior; a river in Europe a letter in the Italian character ; a small river fish ; tho name of a wine ; л mes- senger from the Pope ; to judge ill of ; an Island in the Gu¡f of St. Lawrence; an animal ; a speech at the end of a play; meaning help. The initials read downwards will give tho name of a celebrated novel, and the finals read upwards tho name of the author. E. W. Peer^und. * : ANSWERS, TO CRACKERS, Ко. 161. T. Bed Enow,.or the Murder on the Thames ; mast, Oder, heron, shew, torn, ham, Ouse, head, Arno, thorn, mo. II. Cluude'a Revenue. III. 'William Wallace ; "WiluthirK, Intrinsic,*fLas 1'latA, LongivaL. IrwclL, AslA, MelloW. IV. Boys s of Enclakjj-, UritUh, Obi, Yang-tsc-KIang, bpain, Onore.Franee, Erin,Newcastle.Greenland,Lapland, Arehi]>elago, Kcw York, Danube. V. Bob Lumley's Secret; mulberry, cob, cell, bine, street, crust. VI. Lynx; onyX, BamordaN, TartHrY. reaL. VII. E. J. Brett." Rossini; Engedl. JapäN,-Brindis!, TtomanS, EpirtiS.'ToledO, Tibcli. VIII. Frank Frceland; Finland, Bhodcs, Alfred, Nancy, Kingston, Ferozepoic, Babbit, Eddyetone, Etna, Labrador, Atlios, Nero, Dwina, IX. By the Qutcn's Command ; buy, heat, yeoman, tomb,cheque, home, money, doses. X Bari-«, Seine ; PariS, AbergHiE, Ithinoccrel, IndiaN, SeinE, XI MR. EmvjN J". BllLTT. ; DÉAB Sin;—I wish you every success in conducting: tho Boys of England, which is, in-epito oí all that has been paid. and , written against it,, u A Young Gentleman's Journal of Sport, Fun, Travel and Instruction." I am certain that all those who decipher this will agree with the above, and join me in wishing it •» a long and wide circulation." '1 - * >' - • • I am, yours truly, D. M. Waldie. ':'R; '.; В O W s DE В,UT CAY 13 ÍUNS MEMO R ANDA ROBER T BItUOE" TUESI В LINfl '"' INO К ATE ТП U ТИ АСЕ - Е •*» ЛИ Communications to be addressed to the Editor, Mr. Edwin J. Bbett, 173, Fleet Street, FM. *** We cannot^ under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal. **• Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule wa cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents In a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid.,. 4* Correspondents who wish to receive replies*" by post must in all cases send stamped directed envelopes. Youno England.—William Hone was born In 1779, at Bath. At the age of ten years he was placed In an attorney's office In London. In 1800 he commenced business as a bookseller in Lambeth Walk. It was in 1817 that he was brought to trial for his parodies on the Book ot Common" Braver. He defended .himself with so much courage and skill as to secure an acquittal upon all the indictments, lie brought out the Every Day and Table Books, by which he will be long remembered; the works themselves ought to be in every persons* library. His life was one of great vicissitudes, naving a family of ten children to bring up. He died at Tottenham, November 9th, 1842. An Admirée—John Keats, the poet, was born In Moorflelds, London, in the year 179C. He was first articled to a aur- {:eon. In consequence of his writing some poetry, ho was ntroduced to Leigh Hunt, who brought him before the public. In 1817 he published a volume containing his juvenile poems, and shortly afterwards his long poem, •* Endymion," which called forth a violent attack from tho Quarterly Review. He was ot a very sensitive dts- . position, and of a weak constitution, and finally, to recover his health, travelled to Koine, wnere he died Feb- ruary 24th,1821. Jmioraji.—(l.) You will see the time duly advertised. (2.) No; because It would be impossible for us to find a place large enough. (3.) We arc glad to hear you are 15 years and six months old, and are likewise pleased at your writ- ing; but what height you will attain when you arc done growing surpasses all our conjuring and calculation to arrive at; you may out top **London's column pointing to the «ЫсзЛог remain only fit to be a drummer; at any rate, let us hope that each succeeding day will add to the growth of your wisdom. J. P.—(1.) TJe a cloth, dipped In cold water, round the neck of tho decanter.and it will, after a time, loosen the stopper. (*.) We cannot well send you the particulars, In conse- quence of their length. (3.) Excellent; tito neatest wc have seen for some time. (4.) The exenange will be In- serted In due course. IIistoiucus.—Lady Jane Grey was the daughter of Frances Duchess of Suffolk, who wat the eldest of the two daugh- ters and only surviving children of the Princess Mary, daughter of Henry VI I. Tiesd of Home.—No doubt; most boys are, and very often have reason to regret it. What In the name of íortuno could you do at 14 years of age, placed in an unknown couutry, friendless, homeless, and penniless, ignorant of 1 any trade or profession? Tired of home I Try a little industry, and you will find the blessings and love of home. A. J. Heed.—-You can, get what you require of Messrs; Trubner and Co., Paternoster Kow, London. (2.) You are bound, to tcrvo tho seven years apprenticeship notwith- standing the death of your father. Вов Battlee.—However much we deplore your misfortune, we cannot depart from thé rule laid down, viz., that ** all" the tickets and cheque must be sent in. You must, there fore, do so if you wish to take a part In the distribution. Hubert.—(1.) The White Tower was preserved from the fury of the conflagration. (2.) You can obtain an order no doubt from tho churchwardens. De Wilton.—W e have never heard or seen any plate worn at ;the back of the shako; we think you must be mis- taken. J. W. U—We cannot advise you respecting the regiment you wish to enter. It you are tall and well built, try the Life Guards. T. W. Wahner—(1.) We have no recollection of such a work. A bookseller could best answer the question. (2.) The wreck of the ** London " in the Bay ol Biscay took place about fourycars ago. / Mazeppa.—Adah baacs Menken, actress *and equestrian, died at Paris, August 10,18G8, and Is buried In the Père la Chaise. Ков lîor.—Your handwriting is not at present good enough for cither of the situations you arc anxious to fulfil. O. HUI1EELL.-.Y0U put us In mind ofthat famud boy, Oliver Twist, asking for more. Oiirown opinion is that at present we have quite enough on our own hands to carry out sue* ccssfully, without any more; but we thank you for the kind suggestion, as it shows how pleased you aie with those you havo alrcadyread. < F. W—Wc arc very reluctantly obliged to decline your kind otter, our arrangements for 1870 being complete, whlehi •wo trust, will still further ment the good opinion of your- self and friends. Pieates' Lair.—We have before stated that " all" the tickets must he Jorwardcd at the time the drawing is advertised to take place. Glad you are pleased with the tales. 1 A Constant Beadeh can purchase a book upon the breeding, rearing and treatment ot rabbits or Messrs. ltoutlcdgc and Co.', Broadway, Ludgàto Hill, price Is. Lnquirer 1ч informed that up to January ist. 18G9, theo wer« ¿3,177 person.* of unsound mind under official cogni- zance in England and Wales, being an increase of 2,177 upon the previous year. Captain Jexks,—Lines rcccircd, and will havo duo atten- tion. Robinson Crusoe.—You will have to forward all the tickets, from the first to the last. BoacEss.—You will pcnelve the answer given to Boblnson .Crusoe." '3 Sekgeant Tally.—"Bicycle Bob" will be completed In about lo numbers. Yes. very plain and district J. LocKEY.-It Is likely that the suggcation you kindly send us mav be acted upon. Happï Fbank.—Will you kindly scud us tho book from which you took the quotation? NO. 8 OP THE; GIPSY BOY EEÂDY THIS DAY. J>HICE ONE PENNY. ALSO PART IL, Containing Four.Numbers, Price 4d. IMPORTANT TO ALL OUR READERS! OUR '* "' GEAND CHRISTMAS NUMBER IS EE-PEINTED. The Extra Stories in it surpass anything wo have yet produced. NOTICE! THE GRAND CHRISTMAS DOUBLE NUMBER OF THE BOYS OF THE WORLD Now. ready. TALES BY THE BEST ATJTHOKS OP THE DAY- Price 2d. BEADY TO-MOEROW*, No. 10 of THE NIGHT GUARD; OE, THE SECEET OF ;TÇE FIVE MASKS. With this favorite work will bo given, from time to time, Füll-Lengtu Portbaits of the principal 'charac- ters, on plate paper. Those who desiro to tako In this Favorite Work, should GIVE ТПЕ1В ORDERS AT OKCE. NOW BEADY, TITLE PAGE AND INDEX TO VOL. VI., PEICE ONE PENNY. A SPLENDID CHRISTMAS GIFT! THE SIXTH VOLUME OF THE "BOYS OF ENGLAND." Elegantly bound. Price 4s. PÀET XXXVII. of the BOYS OF ENGLAND IS-NOW BEADY, -' Ь . '( Containing 1 ••' • 'ТДЕ OHEISTMAS NUMBEE. , / PRICE ,Cd.î.,ORÍ BY. POST, 7d. SPLENDID COVERS FOE BINDING VOL. VI: OP THE «BOYS OF ENGLAND," Are Now Ready. , Price Is. 3d. '' NOTICE TO THE NEWS TEADE. Mr. Edwin J. 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Law and General Printer*, 15, Gate Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, and published for the Proprietor, Edwín J. Brett, by Л.ЛУ. HUCKETT, at the office, 173, Fleet Street, B.C.. 98 [Februaut 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. "How?" "Look I" Ned turned, and saw at no great distance, creeping from tree to tree, and bush to bush, be- tween twenty and thirty armed wamors. They were their own persecutors 1 Any one could see by différence of dress and colour, that they belonged to a different tribe from those who had just landed. Ned at once guessed that they were about to attempt to rescue the prisoners, probably mem- bers of their own tribe. In the meantime, the fresh landed warriors were preparing, some a fire, while others danced about with swords and javelins. Between the expected, combatants and the white boys was a dried-up water-course. "Let us*get nearer,''said Ned, "perhaps we may do some good." Harry, who apparently did not like to stop behind, followed. Creeping out from behind the clump, they stooped low. When they got about a hundred yards from the clump, matters stood as follows— The warriors who had just landed, were to their right, the prisoners !n the middle, the other savages to the left cautiously approaching. They were evidently preparing for a charge. Suddenly the prisoners who were fastened with withes, saw the approaching foe. With one accord they began to run in that direction. With a fearful yell the armed warriors started in chase. They were better armed than the foe and much more numerous. They passed within thirty yards of where Ned and Harry stood. By an impulse, which he deeply regretted the minute after, Ned aimed at the foremost warrior and fired. He fell prone to the earth. The rest stood still for a moment, and then advancing, picked him up. He was quite dead. They stood still around him, bewildered and astonished. This gave time to the prisoners to reach their friends and be set free. With a joyous bound they embraced, and, though several were young women, rushed to the charge. This act roused the others to defend them- selves. A terrible hand-to-hand fight ensued, from which Harry shrank with horror. Ned, not* sorry-himself to get away, having loaded his gun^retrcated along the water-way. When * titearreached the old clump of trees, the fight was over;- The later arrivals were defeated and. made prisoners. "*'" The effect of Ned's shot Jiad.been something fearful. • ' *" He himself dccplyjrcgrettedliaying interfered, as one party wasxertamly no more to him than another. \ч, « . * v" The ,thing,¿wasi!done,iíhowevér,and:could.not be undone. :iV . г, jv.; With-: av. sore, and - dejected' heart he turned away. ''::-y:'-M<;ï\À:f'" The sight: of; so; muchVbloodshcd' < was vsicken- ing. • ■*4V"'v' Besides, it was clear their island was well known to the inhabitants Vof the main, who made it occasionally á battle ground, at other times a place for hunting and feasting. What peace could they hope to enjoy? Their life would be intolerable. Even if gunpowder held out, they could not use it, and game would never be procured. Besides, hunting was a pleasure in which Ned delighted. He would rather venture to the main land than live in this continual dread. They determined to ascend a hill at no great distance, and watch the savages. The fight, we have said, was over ; but when they looked again they found, to their great surprise, that the two enemies had fraternised, Why? Only one idea suggested itself. Against them, Then a fearful hunt would take place over the whole island. What was to be done? Return to the fort? Fight? Or dodge round the island? Hany was for the fort, urging that for weeks they could live comfortably. But Ned was never m add for confinement. ^ He preferred even the attempt at immediate flight in the chaloupe. "Do just as you will, Ned," said Harry- Thornton, gently, " I will only obey your orders in future." Ned smiled, and they continued ascending the. hill, which a little before sunset they suc- ceeded in? doing, and found at once that, as they expected, they were on an island. Not a desert island. That is a misnomer—on a deserted island, except by occasional visitors. Suddenly Ned gave a wild start. "What now Г "A ship in the offing." "Where?" Ned pointed it out, coming in slowly towards the land, at a distance of three miles. This explained the conduct of the savages; they, too, had seen the ship, and had made up their differences in order to capture a prize so valuable. What should they do? Strive to save the ship, of course. From the fact of there being an uninhabited island, it was to be supposed that this vessel was coming for water. Both the young hearts bounded with joy, and, fatigued as they were, they began descending the hill in the direction of the vessel. It must be night before they reached it. Should they be before the savages? Ned determined to make a desperate effort to aid, doubtless, his countrymen. Harry was quite as delighted at the oppor- tunity. The vessel in sight was a brigantine—that is;, half schooner, half brig, having two masts,; a mainmast and a foremast. On the,former there was a sail running fore and aft; and on the latter there was a foretopsail, and a fore-top- gallant sail, all of course square sails, and fastened to the yards. Ned, in his own mind, had no doubt she- was English, and equally had no doubt that.man-of- war, merchantman, or privateer, she\ would gladly take them on board. As, however, it was war time, anda many! French cruisers were about, it was necessary to be careful, as the island home would be better than imprisonment on board a Gallican privateer. "What say you, Harry?" asked Ned. "But for the savages-I am in no hurry to leave the island," naively replied Harry. Ned was rather'surprised at-this, but made no remark, as they were nearing the sea. -. CHAPTEB XX THE BEIGANTINE. The two. boys ensconced themselves behind a large plump of trees at no great distance from .the strand., Thé .vessel was heading directly for .thé land, as if about to enter a bay formed bp two long; projecting points. They were going very slowly, with scarcely any sail set, evidently sounding as they ad- vanced. This was a wise precaution, as the water shoaled rapidly, and suddenly all sails were taken in, and the anchor let fall. Still no flag. Boats, however, were rapidly put out, and amongst others, the long boat, fitted, as Ned had fully expected, with barrels. Water was, then, the object of their visit. Other two boats accompanied this one, and into these descended numerous sailors. They were not half a mile from the shore, and the boys easily made out that they were heavily armed. They watched them keenly. As they neared the shore, Ned anxiously scanned their countenances. His hope was that they would prove to be English, and, therefore, friends. In this case their escape would be a certainty. His feelings then may be imagined, when they proved to be a hideous collection of negroes, Mulattoes, Spaniards, and men of a whiter caste, but certaiuly pirates by the very cut of their jib, as Ned observed. Harry drew back from the contemplation of their hideous and ferocious countenances with unfeigned horror. "Ned," he said, clutching the other's arm, with him an unusual mark of excitement. "Well, Harry." "Let us away. The sight of those men inspires me with disgust," he continued. "I will be careful. But be sure they will not come this way. They are making for yonder spring that trickles from the rock," replied Ned. He was right; and very soon the whole party were on shore, the barrels rolled upon the beach, and the chief part of the- men hard at work. There were two exceptions, in the shape of white men, apparently officers. One, who wore a nondescript uniform, and whose belt bristled with pistols, while a hanger and musket added to the martial character of his appearance, moved on one side with a younger companion. The first was a burly ruffian of about thirty, with huge, ruddy whisker and heavy moustache. The second was a youth, not more than sixteen,, pensive and delicate, decidedly English; at all events, so they fancied. He was armed with a kind of dirk, carried a small gun, and one pistol. They were about fifty feet from where the boys crouched in an almost impenetrable retreat. They sauntered slowly along, .apparently not very pleased with one another's company. They are coming this way," said- Harry. S "They will not come here; what could at- tract them? They will-pass within hearings however, and, do you;khow, Harry; that pale,, pensive youth interests me?" repliedNed. Silence now ensued, as, the strangers were close at hand. * ^ ... "Cheer up, boy^'anÜ don't.be- spooney; a. short ilife and a merry one is my motto," said: the elder- sailor, with a grating:laugh. "An honourable life is my .motto,*' replied ¿he- boy sadly;*, "Nóñe'íof your sanctified nonsense for me,1* savagely cried the officer. "Why, what's more- honourable than our trade? We ain't got no king or country, it is true, but then our ship is king and country both."* \ The boy sighed, . "Don't we have-plenty of money?; Don't we enjoy ourselves, go where we will? Haven't I seen more of the -.world 'than mostrmen? Fred Blount;* I'm ashamed; of .you!" "I shall never be a pirate, Lieutenant Eobin- son. You have.never,:been; unkind tome; you saved my life when "my father was killed before my eyes; to protect me against the brutality of the captain,, you made me an officer and put me in your watch. Do me. one. more favour—leave me behind—maroon me/ as you call it.";^' "No. Take care I don't repent my"former kindness," said the sailor, sternly; "never while I live shall you—" : He did not live to complete the sentence. A volley of arrows pierced head, chest, and heart, and laid him low on the green and pleasant sward. . Then the whole.band: of united* savages burst from cover, and came bounding iri.their direction. The youthc stood irresolute,.* looking towards- the crew of the pirate. .:i "i Life is sweet, and.he .was"PreParinS-to ru& ior it, when a voice asrfrom; heaven arrested .his footsteps— ;■' "This way—quick! Pick up the gun." He looked around amazed. Mechanically he obeyed, however, picked up gun and game bag, and entered the clump, where two unmistakable English boys faced him. "No time for talk," said Ned; "we must fight for dear life." The situation was as follows. Febkçary 1, 1870.J 99 BOYS OF ENGLAND. The Indians were not forty feet off, coming down like an avalanche. To the itght were the sailors, a hundred and fifty feet off. No time was to be lost. Harry, roused probably to desperation, levelled his gun with the others. Three sheets of flame—three reports, followed by the discharge of the pirates' heavy gun, startled equally savages and corsairs. The former stood still, uncertain how to act. "This way," said Ned. "Leave them to settle the business between them. The others did not hesitate, but securing their arms, followed, nor did they halt until they were half a mile distant. Volley after volley, cries of triumph, shrieks of suffering and dismay, sufficiently indicated what was passing behind them. Presently, when in a valley which led by a circuitous route to their central cave, Ned halted. He whispered a word to Harry. Harry nodded his head, and the three seated themselves on the ground. "Yonder ship is a pirate,1' began Ned. "Yes, but "urged the boy. "You are no pirate. We heard your con- versation with the dead man. You are English, of course?" "My parents were English, but I have never seen England. My name is Fred Blount. I was born in India, where my mother died. My father being invalided, came'home, intending to put me to school. On the road home, our ship was taken by pirates, and every soul on board slain, except myself." "Poor fellow I How long ago?" "Three years ; since when I have never been J on shore until now. My life has been one long agony. The presence of my father's murderer, the captain, strikes awe to my very soul." "You, of course, have no desire to return to join this ship?" "Death rather!" "Well, we, having no such calamities to deplore, have been very unfortunate. My dear friend and brother, here, has been wrecked over a year. I have been deserted a week or two only. We have contrived to find home, food, and shelter. Now, if you like to join our association, and will swear to be a true brother, we will ensure your escape from the pirates." "Make me your servant—slave—what you will—but do not give me up to the wretches who murdered my father Г cried Fred. ''Never I" said Ned. "Never I" added Harry. "On the contrary," continued Ned, "we admit you as a companion and brother, so follow on." Fred Blount was profuse in his thanks, and with a bright and hopeful expression of coun- tenance, took his way in company with his new- found friends. They were fortunately at no great distance from the cave, the narrow entrance of which amazed and-delighted Fred. His wonder and delight was, however, some- thing, when he saw Carlo rush in among a flock of goats, and begin gambolling with them as old friends. He appeared to fancy himself on some en- chanted isle. The others smiled, and led the way to the hut on the hill. Fred was beside himself with delight. He seated himself on the ground fairly sub- dued by deep emotion. "You seem to have descended from Heaven to save me," he said, unable to repress his tears. Tho others only smiled, and then Harry, \ g a bowl, went out, and soon returned Jp\ a goodly supply of milk, which to the nnro^tunate youth appeared nectar, after ship tea ahd coffee, bad rum, and tainted water. Th ïy then explained their position to him, and then resolved into council. As their numbers were increasing, it became necessary to enlarge the hut. Hirry stuck to his locker, as they called it, from habit or some more powerful motive. It became necessary, therefore, to carry the cave further in on the other side. This they began at once, and, it being wise to keep close for a day or two, continued at the work for nearly a week. CHAPTER XXI. A FIERCE FIGHT. At the end of this time they had not only per- fected their residence, but become very great friends. Fred, from education and nurture, had been originally as delicate as Harry, but his residence on board had roused his energies, and given him strength. Still he was not so manly as Ned, to whom the others looked up as leader in all things. In everything, however, they acted together, and, the week being expired, resolved once more to sally forth in search of adventures, as on a voyage of discovery. This time they made up their mind to use the chaloupe, and, for this purpose, took along1 with them as much food as they could carry. In this way they gained the river, launched their miniature vessel on the stream, took¿ in water both for drink and ballast, and- glided down the river, three happy, joyous Boys of England. It is not in the nature of British lads to be cast down, and though Harry was graver and more thoughtful than the others, no one would have imagined, to see them, that they were poor ship- wrecked waifs from the ocean. The voyage down the river was delightf uUin the extreme.: The ever-varying views, the glorious foliage, the multitude of birds with bright plumage, made an ever-shifting picture. At length the channel widened, and they came in sight of the open sea. It was a splendid day. The water was smooth, with a light breeze. They could run no danger, and resolved, as far as the wind would allow *them, to make a tour of the island. It had so many bays and inlets that they could always run in and take shelter. This resolved on, they pursued their journey. The left bank of the river was formed by the promontory, which projected on one side of the* bay-where the brigantina had-anchored. The wind being fair that wayy the cbaloupc's head was turned in that direction, and, with a joyous bound, darted out to sea. A quarter of an hour elapsed ere they rounded the point. A wild cry from Fred startled them. f4Look! look!" There lay the brigantinc at anchor! They could hardly believe their eyes. What could it mean? The boat's Jiead was rapidly turned, but, as the wind blew, they could not return the way they came, but ran out to sea. Not a sign from the vessel. It appeared deserted, What could be the meaning? Ned used his spy-glass. No* a soul was on deck. There it lay riding slowly at anchor, like some phantom ship. Where were the crew? On shore; in hits. But why had they thus temporarily deserted their vessel? Fred could not make it out._ Were they determined not to leave without him? The very thought made him sad. Suddenly Ned gave a hearty laugh as he once more directed his glass on the shore. The sailors, in ctrange and fantastic garbs, were either dancing with dusky brown beauties, or seated by their sides. "They're on the spree," he said; "only fancy if we were to capture the ship and sail away." Both Harry and Fred shuddered. All this time the chaloupe, under full sail, was flying out to sea. The village was being lost to view. As soon as this was certain, they changed their course, making for the land. One object of their voyage was answered; they knew that the pirates had not left the island. But how about the black women? Had they fraternised with the Indians, and selected this island as a place of refuge when too hotly pursued by hostile cruisers. This was a question which they had no means of answering. At all events the presence of the pirates was to them a source of continual dread, while, even if they presently took their departure, there was always the fear of a speedy return. Well, there was nothing for it but patience and circumspection. They must be exceedingly cautious and wary, collect food, and lie as much as possible within their safe retreat. The life would be a little monotonous, but anything was better than a residence on board a pirate ship. All this while they were running along the shore before a stiff breeze. They kept as near the island as was safe, and lucky for them was it that they did so. Ned's keen eyes were soon occupied glancing, round the horizon. A low black line was clearly visible in the-, distance. Ned sprang up. "Whew I" he cried, "here's a pretty how-de- do! The savages arc coming in a perfect army- Douse the sail!" As he spoke, he loosened the halyard, and the- chaloupe, being at no distance from the shore, ran at once into a small land-locked bay,, where the boat was at once dismasted, and' concealed under some of the luxuriant foliage. "What is to be done now?" asked Harry,, timidly. "Let the fellows fight it out," said Ned. "The white men will be surprised and mur- dered," replied Fred. "Serve the villains right." "No. They are not all bad," urged Blount; "there are several worthy enough lads among them. I vote we warn them, if we can, without injuring ourselves." "Just as you like," said Ned, always good- natured ; "how is it to be done?" Well, Blount didn't exactly know; but, as- they had the start of the savages, they deter- mined to make their way in the direction of the pirate village, and seek their opportunity. They were well armed ; the'pirates evidently in the midst of a drunken orgie, and they hadi little to fear. Harry made them smile as he advanced, he- looking more like a martyr going to the stake- than a brave Crusoe marching to the wars. As the crow flies they were not more than; three miles from the spot selected by the pirates^ as a residence. In this direction they determined to make,, and, having reconnoitercd, trust to the chapter of accidents. It was very hot, and, though they kept be- neath the dark shadows.of tho trees, they were long ere they reached the confines of the camp.' The drunken yells, the shrieking, the laughter, which greeted their cars were anything but. encouraging. Still, they contrived to approach by means of the small rock above the spring which had attracted them on shore, and overlook the camp. It was as they expected. Not an Indian warrior was to be seen. Whatever the fate of the men, the" giris of the tribe had all been captured. Fred shuddered. "Do you know," he whispered to Ned, while Harry sat sombrely aloof, gazing down at the scene of wild disorder with feelings of utter disgust, "what will be the fate of these women?" « No." "When they arc tired of them they will be sold into slavery. I have been two voyages to Cuba, after what these fellows call black berry- ing.'' "There is one remedy for that; let the Indians surprise and put thcm»all to death." "Murder—still murder 1" said Fred. "No; KOYS OF ENGLAND. 102 (FeeeUAUT lt 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. BICYCLE BOB. By tlie Author of " Giles Eveegkeen," "Xobobt's Dog, | •* Feed Feolic," ** Wildfoot," &c. &c. CHAPTER VIII.—(continued.) SAY, Bob, let's have a ride now, that's a good fellow," said Charley, after they had gone some distance. "All right, old fellow," was the reply; "but I think you'll come down, that's all." And so saying, Bob dis- mounted. Charley the next moment was astride the vehicle, and Bob was surprised to see how well and firmly he kept his seat. "Now I'll take a turn up the lane, and come back to you. You'll wait here?" said Charley. "Well, yes, if you like," was the reply. "All right." And away went Charley slowly but steadily up the lane.' "Don't go far, Charley," shouted Bob, "as I want to get home. He rides well; and I must see now if I can't get him back into the factory. The warning he has given me to-night shall atone for the past." Here his thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash, mingled with oaths and execra- tions. '* Ha 11 see through it all now. Charley has put himself in my place, and is waylaid by the thieves. Noble fellow! I won't be far off bim." Producing his revolver, he dashed up the lane. By the dim light he could see two persons struggling upon the ground, while a third was partly kneeling down. "Help, help 1 they are murdering me I" shouted Charley. The next moment a bullet from Bob's re- volver whizzed through the hat of the man who was standing up, and another quickly followed. "Here, come along, sergeant," shouted Bob, to an imaginary policeman; "here are the villains 1" At this the men started off, and before Bob could reach them had disappeared. "Hilloa, Charley! are you hurt much? A nice trick you played me. Hilloa I what is the matter?" he asked, for Charley leaned heavily against Bob. "The fellow has stuck a knife into my shoulder, Bob," he said. "I feel very faint ; the bicycle is smashed to-pieces." "Never mind that; we can soon^make another; it's you I am thinking of. ,You did that, you know, to save me. I shan't forget it easily. Tell me the truth, Charley, was it not so?" "Well, I won't deny it," replied Charley, as they moved slowly along in the direction of John-Stout's cottage. '-" You see, Bob, I guessed what those villains iwould be at,,and,another thing I guessed." And, in spite of his weakness, Xfcàrley smiled. "And what was that?" said J3ob. - Ie. That you had the.money about you." "You were not far öut," was the reply. "I thought not. Well, then, if you had been robbed and murdered in your defence of the master's money, and which :you would have been had you been alone, what .would have been said eh?" * "Can't say," replied Bob.¿ "Not much." "".Wouldn't there though; the whole place would have spoken, out, the old people would have cried out, and Polly—»» «The less said about Polly the better, Charley, for here we are at the cottage." The astonishment of Polly, who was standing at the door listening for the sound of the bicycle wheels, was great when she saw Bob leading a man along. His face was ghastly pale, and the blood, having trickled down his arm on to his handl made him look still more spectral, especially as he lifted it to his face to push back his hair. "Ch! my gracious, uncle—aunt!" screamed out Polly, "Bob's been and murdered a man, Oh I my, where are the police? Police Г And, faintly uttering the last cry, she sank j upon a chair in the passage. i "Don't be foolish, Polly." "Sir, I'd have you to know that is a liberty that I" "Stuff, nonsense!" said Mrs. Stout, coming into the passage. "What's this all about, eh, Bicycle?" Ah ! it's all owing to that. It's been a spill," said Polly. By this time Bob had given up the money, got Charley into the kitchen, and placed him in a seat. Pull off his jacket, and get his shirt sleeves up. I'll be back in a moment." And without any more questions, Bob darted out of the place. Up to the top of the lane, into the high road, the half-mile of ground being soon covered, and Bob pulled up panting at the surgeon's. Luckily he was at home, and knowing Bob, hurried back with him to the; cottage. Arrived there, they found the greatest con- sternation reigning. Charley had fainted dead off. 01d.otout had, alarmed at the affair, hobbled into-the kitchen, and was stamping and howling with agony,'*Polly having, inher fright and zeal to get him a chair, clapped it on his.gouty foot. Then again, having heard that feathers burnt was.a good thing to recover persons from faint- ing, she had tried in vain to find some, and thinking that burnt bristles might answer the same purpose, had set light to a new broom, and was rushing up with it to Charley's nose, as Bob and the doctor entered. "What on earth is all this ?" said the surgeon, who could scarcely refrain from laughing at the scene before him. ^ Trying to bring him to himself, poor young fellow," said Polly. "Yes; and nearly suffocating the rest," re plied-the surgeon. After examining the wound, and binding it firmly up, the medical man prescribed rest and quiet. Incase he should be delirious," whispered the doctor to Bob, "somebody should sit up with him." "I mil take that office upon myself," replied our hero. "He saved my life, and I'll try and return the compliment." "Iknow I can trust to yon," replied the surgeon, and took his leave. Charley Mason, after the visit of the surgeon, recovered himself so much, that he could walk into the sitting-room, into which by this time John Stout had been got back with much care and trouble. "Oh, uncle," said Polly, "had I known that chair would have hurt your toe so, I would have dropped it upon my own." "Well, my child," said the old man, with a grin, "the next time will do." There was a pause of some little time, for all the parties sat gazing at one another. "Bob Ready," said his master, at.;last, "I should like vastly to know the meaning of all this." The explanation asked was soon given. "And now the first thing that I shall do," said Bob, "is to go into the lane and see if I Can bring back the remains of the bicycle, then I have a favour to ask you." "And one," said John Stout, holding out his hand, "that there won't be much .trouble in granting." "I'll go with you, Bob," said Charley, - rising from his seat, " and help you." "You sit down, my lad," said the good old woman. "You have done your day's work, and you shan't stir to-night, unless it is to bed. Bob can manage all that by himself, and won't be long about it." "Oh, no, I shall soon be back," replied Bob. "But I must get a light." And so saying, he went into the kitchen to procure a bull's-eye that had been kept always there. He lighted it, and was passing out, when he started back at seeing Polly with her bonnet and cloak on. "Polly," he said, " are you there?" "Yes, Bob, I am. And so are you I see." And she tossed her head back. "And pray where are you going, Miss Warner?" I shall answer that question by asking another, Mr. Keady. Where are you going?" "To fetch home the remains of the bicycle," was the reply. "Well, then, as I was present when the un- fortunate—ahem—vehicle was first projected, perhaps you will have no objection to my being at the funeral. It's a break-up, isn't it, Bob?" "No, it's a break-down, Polly." And so saying Bob was passing by her. "Stop, sir, you are not going in that way; I have very great doubts about all this, and shall go and look into the matter myself." "With all my heart ; give me your arm." And Bob offered his arm with the greatest politeness. I beg your pardon, I can walk without any assistance." And then suddenly snatching the lantern out of his hand, she ran out into the lane, leaving Bob in the dark to follow her. Polly little thought of the reception she would meet with. The shouts and cries for help had aroused the policemen, and they hastened with all the speed they could to the spot. At first they thought that another attempt had been made to rob the villa again, and so they made their way there; but finding that it was closed, and that all was safe and quiet, they went further up the lane until they came to the place where lay the remains of the bicycle! "Hulloa! what's all this? That fast chap has come to grief at last!" said one of the men. "And hurt himself, for see there is his hat; and by the Lord Harry l look here, spots of blood —and here is a knife! I say, Tom, what is all this about?" "Blest if I can come at it; but hold hard, stand back, here is a light coming." The two men drew back and hid themselves from any observation, watching at the same time intently the progress of the light. Polly's good humour was in the ascendancy upon the occasion, and she tripped forward gaily in advance of Bob. At last she came up to the spot where the dis- abled bicycle lay. "Well, in all my life, to think that it would come to this; plenty of robbery and very nearly a murder! Oh Lord l what's that! Murder!" "Hold your tongue, my gal," said a rough voice. "What do you know about this, eh?" Polly looked up, and her* heart sank within her when she saw the figures of two- giant policemen standing by her side. "Oh, sheiJinows nothing about it, police- man," said Bob, who' that moment came up. And pray who are you, you seem to know all about it,-myiad," said one of the men, not re- cognising-Bob. "Well, yes, I think Œ do," was the reply. "Oh, you До; then we'll trouble you to walk with us." And he stretched out his hand to lay hold of Bob. Bob sent forth a hearty laugh a¿ this, and stepped on one side, which the man, thinking was an attempt to escape, he made a rush at him but was prevented by the other man. "Hold hard, Joe, I know this .chap ,* it's all right. What's been up4?" "Only an attempt to rob and murder, that's all," replied Bob; "but here, give me a hand up to the cottage, and you shall kave a glass and know.all about it." This was done, and the men-having been made thoroughly acquainted with the facts, took their departure to look after.the two men and the pony chaise, which, by this time and by another road, had reached town. After a time Charley Mason was put into Bob's bed, the latter having signified his inten- tion of sitting up the wholo of the night. Before retiring for the* night^old Stout shook Bob heartily by the hand, and in a paroxysm of delight, exclaimed, "God bless you, Bob, for this night's work; if it hadn't have been for you the money would Febädaät 1, 1S70.J 103 BOYS OF ENGLAND* have been lost, and a very serious one it would have been for me." "Charley Mason saved it, sir; if it hadn't been for him I should have been murdered and robbed/' "I believe you, Bob," said his master, "and from this night Charley Mason is a man. Good night 1" And they parted with a hearty shake of the hands, CHAPTER IX. THE GHOST IN THE FACTORY. Master Jack Pepper and his companion had taken up their station near the factory for some hours before the attempt at jobbery was made. They stood in an alley close by, which, while it concealed them from the eyes of the police, gave them an opportunity of seeing what was going on at the place they intended paying a visit to. "I wonder," said Jack, to his companion, "if that chap left the money, or whether it is all ■gammon; such things have been done, Bill." "Yes; but I think in this case we are upon the right track. Look at it in this ere light : -it iiin't likely that Bicycle Bob would be such an ass as to take all that-money home with him, it ain't likely." "Well, then, if it is there, we'lLhavc it and.no mistake, and if not : he'll get; suclua tanning j,as :won't please him.": "I owes him one,".replied ©ill. "And I a lot; so between-us "he'lUget it,¡ After this affair wc shall have to keep on the quiet for some time." "What for, eh?" -"Why, things ain't been right since that .affair of the maskerade," here Jack laughed. It was a jolly lark for all that." "How do you mean not right?" "Why, not right ; that's clear enough. Some one has blabbed, and I have got my suspicions who it is." "Who is it?" whispered his companion. "Nevermind at present; it's just as well kept to myself, but the last few days there has been a lot of strangers About the old place that has made me and the old man rayther uncomfortable iind kept us on the look out, and so much so that I have warned a lot of our chaps off," "If you'll, only tell me who the chap is, I'll •stop his tongue*."' '•Let us pull this affair off first, and we'll settle the other afterwards. Listen," and Jack poked his head out, and cautiously looked out; there's a couple of peelers coming, and so we'll get out at the other end of the alley, and meet ■again in half-an-hour, and then go to work." They did so, and fortunate for them they ■did, for the inspector, James Hawk, and one •of his best men, were on the look-out, and it would have been rather awkward had they lighted upon Jack Pepper and his companion. As it was, as the inspector and his man entered the one end of the alley, Jack Pepper and his companion emerged at the other; and, hastily separating different ways, were entirely lost to sight by the time the others had arrived at the other end._ "What is that you say about a light having been seen in the factory ?" said the inspector. "One of the men said the other night he saw a light for some time, but he took no further notice." "Did he report it?" "I believe so," "That's right ; it's of no consequence, because they work at all hours. ^ I'll have a look round the place myself of a night." "A woman living opposite says she was look- ing in when she saw a blue light, and Excuse me laughing, sir." "Well, go on ; and what?" "A ghost 1" and here the man tried to suppress a laugh. "Stuff, nonsense I And what was the ghost doing?" "Going head-ovcr-hecls, sir." "Well, it's the first time I have heard of a ghost conducting itself in that way. The woman had taken something that affected her head. Keep a sharp look-out; there are plenty of bad characters out." And, with that, they separated. The woman who had beheld the strange sight of the "ghost in the factory, " was quite right in one respect. The boy Head-over-heels had several times indulged in visits to a theatre in his neighbour- hood, where the ghost, with its usual accom- paniment, blue or red fire, often made its appearance. ! Nothing pleased the boy so much, except his ^tumbling, than,to lay out a few halfpence in j buying some ofithe;fires; and, having found a wayby which he could*,get into the factory, play the ;ghost in the still, hour and dead of the night. Saturday night ^was the night generally selectedby him,.after he,liad-paid a visit to his favoured place of amusement. He could take up his abode there all day on Sunday,-f or very often this'.wandering Arab had no place*of shelter. In fact; it >waS:Scarcelyc possible to keep him under any roof, so deeplyùhad the love of the streets, and his propensity to; tumble along the side of the road or on the .pavement taken hold upon him. He laid in albthe week, ¿as occasion offered with the means, small quantities of the.fire, which he secreted in the factory ready for use. In-vain had his master triedtato reclaim him :by: gctting&im. a lodging. ^It was useless; the streets or^markets were his.home. * . ч , With alLthis wandering, ;outcast life^hèiwas strictly honest. And more than once he had been rewarded for finding small articles and scrupulously re- turning them. On the night in question, the night upon which Rob had started home with the cash upon his person, the boy had made up his mind to have a grand display of his favourite fire—blue. "I'll have a jolly lark when all the neigh- bourhood is wrapped in the arms of Mor-fee-us. What's life without enjoyment? I have heard people say that often enough, but I don't know what it means. P'r'aps some day I shall find it out. If I could only get a chap to act the villain and I the ghost, I think that would be enjoy- ment." The ghost of Head-over-heels was not a white ghost; it was exactly the opposite character. He had a peculiar way of entering the factory without opening a door or a window, and had ¡ hitherto escaped detection. It was not the most approved method of enter- , ing, still it was that or none. To the large forge of the factory was attached a wide chimney; it was thickly built, and its strength was still further supported by thick bars of iron running across. The boy was well aware of all this, and could find his way down and up with the greatest facility. Having watched that no one was on the look- out, he would run up on the roof and down the large chimney in an instant. Then, knowing where he kepthis stock of lucif ers, he soon had a light, which he hid so cleverly that not the slightest trace of it could be seen outside. On the night, therefore, after he had seen a thrilling drama, the boy made his way to the factory, but was for some time prevented in carrying out his darling project by seeing that the inspector and the sergeant were engaged in conversation. "What keeps them there chaps talking there I wonder? No matter; I shan't go until they are gone. I've plenty of time—all day to- morrow, if it comes to that." A few minutes after that the police separated, and Hcad-over-heels was in the factory. This time, if anything-, he was blacker than ever. The work had been very hard in the factory, and the chimney was more strongly encrusted with soot, so that when he descended he was pretty well covered. Shaking himself, however, free from a great portion of it, he took a few good somersaults up and down the whole length of the .factory to free himself from the rest, and then seating himself down in his corner, he pulled out of his pocket a lump of bread and cheese, with a largo onion, and prepared to make his supper. "I always like to have a quiet supper before I takes my amusement. What a lucky fellow Bicycle Bob is 1 Well, I don't grudge him any- thing. He is a good sort, and deserves all he gets." And so he went on muttering and enjoying his supper, without heeding anything that was going on around him. I Jack Pepper and his companion had again met, and finding the coast clear, had stolen cautiously towards the factory. "I think the shutter nearest the end o' the factory will be the place to begin at. It ain't any use trying any other part," said Jack Pepper. The shutter that he spoke of was very old and decayed, and more than once-Bob had given directions-'.that, it should be more securely fastened. 1 The man who. had accompanied :Jack was an experienced hand, and it wasjiot long before it was thrown open, and, without much ceremony, they jumped into the factory. The noise they made alarmed Head-over-heels, and he crept closer into his hiding-place. "What's up now?" he muttered. í{ I.-wan ted a ghost, and I am blest if I -.don't think L, shall have one." Then, peeping out, he perceived that a man and a boy had entered the place. At that moment their -backs*:were turned towards him,, but suddenly they faced round аз though they had heard a noise. / "Bythehokeyl it's Jack Pcpperi" muttered the affrighted boy, "and the chap they call Bill Skinner. If they find me out, they'll murder me." And he crouched down upon his stomach, and held his breath. "Come on, Skinner; there is the counting- house at the end there. I daresay it's locked," said Jack. "That won't matter much," was the reply. "Keep the light under your jacket, and don't let them blessed peelers sec it." "All right ; go ahead," was the reply. They went cautiously along, andj as Jack held the light shaded, they frequently stumbled against a bar of iron or heavy sledge hammer that had been left on the ground; and once thc man Skinner measured his length upon the ground, to the great delightfqf Hcad-over-heels, who had emerged from his retreat, and was crawling like an eel after them. At length they reached the counting-house deor, and found it locked. But Skinner was too much^ a master of his trade to have come without his working tools; and, taking a bunch of finely-tempered skeleton keys, he applied one öf them to the lock, but without success. "Oh, you won't, wonît.you? we'll soon see about that, " he muttered. And, with that, he produced a small ft"''i<") ;}.<' <■•!' -, î ;;< у ;и< . "! !• iпí;уу <1 Hint t-Ь-' buyyii-r hs-Ii' t". r íi" b;;*' ¡!i íi /,f f< *! 'ba!, «!:ív ib y чаду Iii.- w."Jn<-', v.rH; | I ils í!;í!;í<'fí'-'*- tui-k- ;>.!! i ívt,:y » bnüt ы) -ЬИ-, * v-sn;/ *,V í--'•«: n.'b aft <*.<Ф* >u, * |>anNi-\vj,y, umi îbc bqv» tu Ни- ni^iuc-room. "V/ ■ :"'^y„ii,i:"f !л;:и; w,¡;i< -f'î/bî rb;:,"' 'tbbbpl-.'íí ;,:nb: b ib rbb 1ч absbVh, .V' 's 1 bo; ?<;• '* fhi>' — îh< Г"'-1 b t w • -"н* "лаг Ьч v. it h *4 iá <Ьч^» î»;;bb> :и ! ral ií ;^ uti,f H;»",- ';Wí'.riai h fí-' ^ía ''.'•'.;i|>ii;;„f. ---is/" 'H,..,v;,; îff ,wî{<4V M.fjt) #'hvv:ííí:.: '*' :an»! if \v." ti'; ií; \h<: \:,u \' ,-\\ ..j' tb-' \ 3, at.'I hi y ií"í#'¡ м»^ «ml fora¡- : -! b,-:/,,.!,-;''^ :nu^. nn'iï- i í,y ÎJ.:- h iv ;¿r.'i t !n ¡v, 1>л;и, ic>r Hj<' v:c-{ mj;T:«- ('í i.:'. ¡N'jvb-', J w, Ь '.V v.— ;¡' \\;;.,. , | (, п-.чмг.ЬЬ' д \v¡ îî<', n-.'h.'î'i |'u u; ri- ; ,|''!" "i it {,;! ■!? i-,*' .'¡h\ ; г íri/nfy .4' iL- -h;ji, sii^'M'-ng Нот Ii-; '"• .i' :¡, :\:t\;-,,,'(?, ¡ í^r y!'-hh¡- , ( iuyr yuicui ;¡n,> -.a- - 'í11 ï î :y |m Г' (o ч'-í '.' -v' ;;<■ Ч'-а! Ь:;иЧ;<;;, u;nJ i r:;jt;-'íi-• \\;v \у».л«< '"'!X'"*' í'b H,- '/i •-'';,<';/:;/,,! ;¡r! l, -r i\r/h,\v l ;<ь W.^-d, «}(«- ь.; - ¡ '.4:"í. г 'j;- .<..<: 'jL'ü'.'m'1' • ^ ■ s- il turns on the fleck fer a few hours м. чгч- .-vmp ■ V > -p.-,-,- ':'i'í-;M¡í-d,y, \ «' r;:\ Í'.í;;i; мл M '.v,.- у ()... at ]ц,ц',- íi, H."^- .■.,:,,:.¡«¡,-t Mr. f., c;¡biH «\t Ь-; ;^ ;/\ î,:»-,:-, aliv.-Hí;. ■илi'па; xi. 106 [F£BRUAÎIY 1, U70. BOYS OF ENGLAND. some special duty that necessitated unrelated attention, bis tongue loosened, and words and language, that showed a deep and careful read- ing, fell in eloquent accents from his mouth, often causing the listener to look up ta him in sur- prise. On these occasions, Mr. Wood would rapidly turn his face from him, and sometimes abruptly ond the conversation, as though he feared some- thing from the young man's eager scrutiny, or was displeased with it. This preference for his company was a source of surprise to Oscar. It appeared evident, from Mr. Wood's manner, that Oscar was no stranger to him; and yet, though there was something in the passenger's features that were familiar to Oscar, he could not call to mind any previous meeting with him. It had also something of annoyance in it. Captain Bingham exhibited some little jealousy, Mr. Lcchmere was absolutely offended, while from the mates and privileged seamen Oscar had to endure a bantering, that at times severely tried his temper. One day, after one of these conversations, Tim Davis, who was occupied close to Oscar, said, "I've heerd say that tit's .better to be/born lucky1 than rich. This swell seems to have taken a reg'lar fancy for yer." "We must have met before," said Oscar, -"though" I cannot tell where. His voice has a tone that isiamiliar to me, while his face seems to recall one I have seen." The following day was appointed for a bear- hunt, numerous of those animals having been seen in the vicinity of the ship. The crew had been divided into three .parties, and were under orders to return by a given -hour the next evening. Л petty officer was appointed to the command of each party, and Mr. Wood signified his inten tion of joining that commanded by Oscar, which included the seaman called Dan, Tim Davis, and two of the young ship-boys. After breakfast, the different parties as- sembled on the deck, dressed in their warmest clothing, and Captain Bingham, while giving the benefits of his experience to those who were to take charge of the parties, took care to give it in such a tone of voice that it was understood as giving advice to all who were about to embark in the perils, for bear-hunting in the polar seas is, perhaps, only equalled in danger by the tracking of the savage tiger in the jungles of the East. As the parties diverged each a different way, they were soon lost to sight of each other, and as our tale is only to chronicle the adventures of onr hero, we shall attend to his fortunes only. Travelling over a frozen sea, w*ith hills of solid snow at every hundred yards, with the ice up- heaved in sharp ridges, and here and there a breathing hole through which the seal emerges to get a few inspirations of the outward air, is no easy woik even to those accustomed to mountain travel; but those who undertake it for the first time find it a work of an exceedingly trying nature. Consequently they had been three hours away from the ship before they accomplished as many miles; and the two boys were so knocked up that they solicited permission to return to the "Mermaid." This Oscar readily granted, as he felt that they would not in any way assist the object in view, but might probably embarrass them in the event of meeting with any of the animals they were in - search of, And thus the party was reduced to four, Mr. Wood seemed to feel the influence of the exhilarating atmosphere, tor he exhibited an activity quite foreign to his usual manner, and carried his gun with the air of an eager sports- man, every -now and then, despite Oscar's re- monstrances, pushing on ahead to see if any game was in view. Up to the time the boys had left them, except a few white foxes and seals, they had not fallen in with any game that was worth expending powder on; and, shortly after, beginning to feel fatigued themselves, they sought a sheltered spot under a hill of snow, and sat down to rest and refresh themselves. Wood seated himself next to Oscar, while Tim and Dan, who were indulging in a pipe, took their positions some yards to leeward of them, in order that the flavour of their tobacco might not offend the delicate nostrils of the gentleman passenger, who was known to have an aversion to it. A brilliant coruscation of light exhibited itself at the moment they were seated, tinting every object around with a variety of different hues, which Oscar, who was really a fervent admirer of nature, pointed out to his companion. "Yes, it is, indeed, beautiful," said Mr. Wood; "scenery so wildly grand, and so gorgeously coloured, repays the perils that must be under- gone to witness it." "But surely, sir," observed Oscar, "it wasjiot a love for such sights as these that induced you to undertake this voyage? Excuse my freedom, but I think you altogether unfitted for it." "It may not have been," replied Mr. Wood; "I may have other reasons. We all have our secrets. You have yours, or why is it that I find one who has every pretension to the character of a gentleman filling an office but one degree above that of a common sailor. Indeed, I will be so far frank as to say that I know some part of your secret." "Indeed," said Oscar; "your words convince me that we have met before. I have certainly some recollection of your features, but cannot individualise you at all." "You have not, perhaps, the facility of re- membering faces," said.Mr. Wood. "I think I have," replied Oscar, quickly. "There are some faces that I have met with that I should recognise under any disguise. For instance, I could pick Cissy's face out t from among a thousand." "Cissy I" exclaimed Mr. Wood, starting -up, "Cissy 1" and then, pausing a moment, he seemed endeavouring to control some inward emotion, in which, having at last- succeeded, he sat down again, and asked, in his usual quiet manner— "And who, pray, is Cissy?" The name had fallen almost involuntarily from Oscar's lips, and had it been possible he would have recalled it; but now, he felt com- pelled to answer the question, so he replied— "Cissy is a friend, whose acquaintance I made under strange circumstances." il A dear friend?" "Yes." "You love her, then?" "Most truly." Mr. Wood was silent; but a groan so deep issued from his mouth, that Oscar turned round, and saw him apparently convulsed. Another second, and seizing the gun that lay beside him, he started up, exclaiming abruptly— "Come, Wilson, are we to remain here all day, and go back to the ship empty- handed?" And, without waiting for a reply, he darted up the snow hill like an antelope, and dis- appeared on the other side. "Stay, Mr. Wood," shouted Oscar; "you are endangering your life." A laugh, so wild and despairing that it sent a thrill through Oscar's heart, was the only answer. "Quick! Tim and Dan, throw away your pipes, and follow. Mr. Wood has gone mad 1" And he ran quickly up the hill, and when on the summit, he saw Mr. Wood striding quickly onwards, already nearly a hundred yards in advance. Oscar was about to hail him, when the passenger suddenly halted, half turned round, and then, with a wild scream of terror, fell flat on the ice. Then came a short, savage growl, and, to the horror of Oscar, an enormous white bear rose up from a hollow in the ice, and flung himself on the prostrate body of the unfortunate passenger. For a second Oscar seemed paralysed. Then, shouting to Tim and Dan to hasten, he ran towards the animal, hoping to divert its atten- tion to himself, and in this succeeded, for the beast, seeing three enemies threatening to attack him, and probably fancying that the insensible form beneath him was incapable of doing harm, withdrew his forefoot from the head of his in- tended victim, and glared fiercely at his new foes. Oscar levelled his gun and fired, drawing blood from the brute, but not disabling him. Then, eager to effect the entire rescue of the passenger, he snatched a long lance from Tim and made a dash at the bear. The attack was successful, but, owing to his speed, he stumbled over a sharp projection in the ice, and fell on the bear, the lance enter- ing the animal's abdomen and re-appearing at the side, inflicting, of course, a terrible wound. ♦But bears take a wonderful amount of killing, and Oscar, in falling, threw himself right into the optin^paws of the beast, which grasped him tightly, across the shoulders, and would, in a very .short space of time, have settled all his worldly .accounts. But, by this time, Tim and Dan had arrived, and, dealing furious blows with their hatchets, compelled the bear to release Oscar, to defend himself tornithe new, attack, Oscar*\was weaponless, for the lance had snapped in two; but the gun of Mr. Wood lay within a few feet of him. To pick it up, cock it, and fire, was the work of a few seconds, and the aim was fortunately accurate, for the bear rolled over, and though still raging-furiously, the trio were soon enabled to dispatch him. Oscar now ran to Mr. Wood, and lifted him from the ground; but, as he did so, the fur cap, the straps of which had been probably torn by the bear, fell off, and with it the dark locks and whiskers, revealing in their place the red, flossy, hair, and unmistakeable features of Barbara Pendle! She opened/.her eyes as Oscar lifted her up, and raised her hand to her forehead; compre- hending at once^hat her secret was discovered, she slipped from bis arms to her knees, exclaim- ing in piteous accents— * ^ "Forgive me I forgive me! for I shall dia with shame.'* '* Rise, Miss Pendle," said Oscar, as he hastily replaced her cap on her head, "for Heaven's sake rise, or you will be frozen to death in a few minutes. We must return to the ship." She suffered herself to be raised from her kneeling posture, and ^Ъе wrapped'up closely. Then, with Oscar on one side and Dan on the other, she endeavoured to return to the "Mer- maid." But the strength that had for so long supported her under her masquerade had now departed from her entirely. She spoke not, but her sobs and convulsive movements showed how deeply she felt her posi- tion, and it was not without great labour that she was at last got on board and led to her room, where she relapsed into a etate of insensibility that lasted many hours. CHAPTER XII. OSCAR MARRIES A FORTUNE THE astonishment of the crew at this unexpected discovery of the sex of the so-called Mr. Wood, was only equalled by the indignation of Captain Bingham, at what he termed the unheard-of scandal brought on the " Mermaid." The idea of a woman in disguise insinuating herself on board hii ship, was with him a crime of much magnitude. In Mr. Lechmere, however, Barbara soon met with a comforter. On recovering, under his care, from her long swoon, and in answer to the questions he put to her, she had candidly and truthfully confessed that her uncontrollable love for Oscar, despite the coolness with which he had repelled her. had induced her to follow him in disguise, hoping only that she might share his dangers, and that if she died it might be near him. She deeply deplored the adventure that had caused the discovery of her secret, which she as- serted it washer intention should have been for ever concealed. Mr. Lechmere sympathised with her, al- though he could not help severely blaming her infatuation, and promised to do all in his power to soften the annoyance that must be occasioned to Oscar, with whom Barbara implored him to prevail to grant a speedy interview. FimnuÀBY 1, 1870.J 107 BOYS OF ENGLAND. The latter looked on the matter with very mixed feelings. As has been before said, though Barbara was not a beauty, she had a pleasing cast of counte- nance; and had Pendlc's character been other than it was, Oscar would have shown no repug- nance to the proposed match; but now his affection for Cissy, although he believed her lost to him for ever, was a serious obstacle to Barbara's happiness, although the deep devotion she had shown towards him caused him to look upon her with considerably more favour. While under the influence of these feelings, ]Mr. Lechmere made his appearance, and in- formed Oscar of her wish for an interview. "It is," said he, "a most extraordinary instance of the power of love in woman. I have no wish to interfere in your private feelings; but from what has occurred, I believe your future earthly happiness and welfare would be assured in her company. Oscar was silent, for he could make no reply, and Captain Bingham having shut himself up in a fit of sulks, he followed the clergyman to Bar- bara's cabin, and gently opening the door, pushed Oscar in, and discreetly retired. Short as had been the space of time, Barbara had managed to make a complete change in her •attire; the masculine garments, the dark locks, whiskers and small moustache, had been thrown ■aside, and a rich but warm suit, more suitable to her sex, had been put on, and as she rose from her chair on Oscar's entrance, he could not help feeling that there were more unsightly figures in the world than Barbara. The traces of indisposition still hung about her and exhibited itself in a weakness that compelled her to support herself by holding the back of her •chair, and as Oscar took the hand she half timidly held towards him, he felt it tremble, and turn cold and hot by turns. "Forgive me, Oscar,1' she said, in her quiet, musical voice, "forgive me. I feel that I have done very wrong. It was not my intention to I make myself known to you, but this accident has ] brought about a speedy avowal. Oh, Oscar," and she clasped her hands appcalingly, "do not treat me with contempt, although 1 feel that I have no claim to any other sentiment from you;" Oscar was much affected. In the face of her appeal, his indifference, and even his love for Cissy, seemed to vanish, so he took her hands in his, and said— "'My dear Miss Pendle, pray calm yourself. I .am.not myself worthy of half the devotion you have shown towards me. I would, indeed, willingly make you happy in your desires, would have done so even on our first interview, had not Mr. Pendle stood in the relationship he does to you." "Stay," said Barbara,eagerly ; "I can remove your objection on that point. I am not Pendle's daughter, but, rather, I may say, his victim. Ac- cident placed in my hands sufficient to prove that." And taking from a small casket a packet of papers, she placed them in Oscar's hands, desiring him to read them. They revealed another phase in the life of Pendle, and the substance was nearly as follows :— Pendle had formed an acquaintance, when a young man, with a Captain Weston, belonging to a regiment of the line, who most unexpectedly had come into possession of a large fortune through marriage. Three years afterwards, the- regiment being ordered abroad, the captain having, as his letter expressed it, "a presentiment that he should never return," entrusted Pendle with the man- agement of his affairs, and drew up a will, in which Pendle was appointed sole executor, making a handsome provision for his wife, and leaving £40,000 as a dowry for his daughter. The vessel in which the captain sailed arrived safely aUbe Cape of Good Hope, and left there some days afterwards on her voyage to Bombay, but, meeting with a terrible hurricane in the Indian Ocean, foundered, two sailors alone escaping to relate the disaster. Its effect on Mrs. Weston was such as to almost incapacitate her for the ordinary duties of life. She was devotedly attached to her husband, and had frequently, without avail, entreated him to sell his commission, and retire into private life. So now Pendle had full scope for the exercise of his peculiar ingenuity. By virtue of his authority as executor, he received all monies, and took upon himself the entire management of everything. He persuaded the widow to seek a more re- tired residence, at which it was soon after re- deigning to look towards Oscar, "you told me you knew nothing of—of—of Mr. Wood—of this lady, and now here what do I find? what do I find? It's monstrous, scandalous!" "Captain Bingham," said Oscar, "I shipped along with you as a common seaman. As you said, I have lived in a different position in life to the present, therefore my sensibility on the point of honour is much more delicate than it would ported that she had died, while he took Barbara, { be among men of lower birth. My position at then an infant of two years old, under his ! present is inferior to yours, but understand, guardianship, and brought her up as his own j Captain Bingham, that 1 have the same respect daughter, What his ulterior designs may have been Oscar could only guess; but he now fancied that a deep plan lay at the bottom of the seem- ing regard for the future position of Barbara. The effect of these documents was decisive on the mind of Oscar. He thought of the intense affection Barbara exhibited for him in bearing such hardships unmurmuringly, and the imploring gaze of her blue eyes took his heart by storm. for truth that you have." "Then why, sir," roared the captain, who was in a terrible rage about the whole affair, "why did you say you knew nothing of this Mr. Wood, of this—I mean of this lady?" "I spoke the truth." "It's false." "May I be allowed a few words?" said Mr. Lechmere. "So far as the accusation madeagainst Mr. Wilson that he was acquainted with— j that he knew that Mr. Wood was a—I mean He looked at her as she stood in the little , that Mr. Wood was Miss Pendle, I believe that I cabin, and his heart glowed with warmth ! can give my conscientious testimony to acquit towards her. i hhn of any knowledge of that fact. I can He took hold of her hand, and, forgetting his ¡ assure you, Captain Bingham, that it is my firm dependent position, he sealed Barbara's happi- | belief that Mr. Wilson had not the slightest ness with the first kiss of love. Her tears flowed fast; but they were tears of joy. For some moments :she-wept, with her head resting on his breast, and..his„arm around her waist. "I am happy.now, Oscar," she said, "and shall be .glad to, get back to England." "That is impossible yet, Barbara," returned Oscar. "The ship cannot be got out of the ice for three months yet." "No matter; I shall be happy with you, Oscar." "And, so shall I with you. But tell me, Barbara, how did you know I was coming here ?" I Barbara blushed, and faltered out— "I discovered where you lodged, and I watched "you, and" At this moment there ivas-a tap at the door, and the clergyman entered. Oscar was sitting beside ¿Barbara, .with her hand held in his, and his other- arm round her waist. Mr. Lechmere's sudden intrusion sent a blush over the pale face of Miss Pendle, and Oscar's face was not wholly innocent of a slight degree of colour. "Oh! I—I—beg pardon—dear me. How is my patient? Oh 1 I see. I shall only be re- quired once more, and that in my proper capacity." Barbara blushed still deeper. "Well, I'm sure," said Lechmere, who was really delighted with Barbara. "Keally this is one of those cases that take away a man's power of speech." After a little conversation, it was thought expedient that it would be best that the captain should be made acquainted with what had happened as speedily as possible. *' I will tell him all that has occurred, Miss Pendle. I will go, and see him, and then I will come and report progress," said Mr. Lechmere. He was absent about a quarter of an hour, during which time Oscar and Barbara indulged in that description of meaningless talk, which to a third party is immeasurably insipid, but to lovers themselves is like sipping the dew from the plains of Heaven. Mr. Lechmere soon returned with a request that Miss Pendle and Mr. Wilson would attend the captain in his cabin. When they entered the captain was standing in his favourite position, with his back to the stove. The expression of his face was severe ; indeed, it might be described as almost ferocious. He bowed politely to Miss Pendle, but of Oscar's salute he took no notice, but exclaimed in a stern voice, at the same time knitting his brows terribly— "I did not expect, sir, to be во thoroughly deceived in you." "Is that observation applied to me, Captain Bingham ?'•' asked Oscar, firing up with rage. "It was," exclaimed Captain Bingham, not notion of who Mr. Wood was any more than yourself." "You don't see what you've done," said the captain, a little more subdued, yet in that passionate way that indicates intense annoy- ance. "You don't see that I have come up here with a view to increase the store of geographical knowledge, and what will my friend, the Presi- dent of the Royal Society say? what will every sensible man say? Do you see how you've perhaps ruined my reputation for ever?" "But, captain," said the doctor, "do you not think the evidence of we three parties present here" "What's evidence ?—confound the evidence 1" shouted the captain. "Does the tongue of calumny stop for evidence?" There was a slight pause after this. Oscar took advantage of the pause, and, with a view to assist Barbara out of her'embarrass- ment, he exclaimed— "You will excuse me, Captain Bingham, but I really think you appear to be quite deficient of a certain amount of delicacy which one would think" "Delicacy, sir 1 don't talk to me of delicacy! Here I raise the expectations of the scientific world by starting on a voyage of discovery to the Polar regions ; I engage, if possible, to reach the North Pole ; understand, sir, that the eyes of Europe are upon the actions of this ship—that, probably, my performance will be handed down to posterity, with the same degree of minute description as was the voyage of Hudson, of Baffin, of Parry. Think of all this ; and further, that in all histories or accounts of this voyage there will be one paragraph—if the humbugs content themselves with one paragraph—saying -that I concealed on board a lady. But, God bless me, Miss Pendle, I beg your pardon 1 There, don't cry—ГП forget it. I'll forgive you. Pray sit down; and you, Wilson, get a chair for Miss Pendle, and let's have some wine." And he drank, with the greatest amount of politeness and gallantry, to Miss Pendle. "Now," he^said, after they had all drank, "now let me ask this. I am a plain-spoken, blunt sailor, you know. No beating about the bush. Is this an affair of love?" Barbara did not answer, and Oscar remained silent, so Mr. Lechmere answered— » I believe it is, Captain Bingham." « Then, sir, I say, success to the lovers. But, understand me, they must be married without delay." And Captain Bingham banged his hand on the table with a violence that made the glasses dance, to add emphasis to his words. "I'll give no further causo for the tongue of scandal to wag. And as soon as the ice breaks up I shall put them on board the first homeward- bound whaler we fall in with ; so, here's to their happiness." And the captain drank off his glass of wine with an evident relish. (To be continued. Commenced in Ко. ICO.) 110 [Febeuakt I,1S70. BOYS OF ENGLAND. ing the intricate mystery of the diagram as to feel confident that it not only was intended as a guide ! to the place where the box containing the stolen bonds had been secreted, but that I actually knew that place: and the developments of the two days ensuing substantiated my supposition. Some ten miles from the city of L , and five from the residence of Mr. Reynolds, was an unused coal-pit, which had been excavated to a considerable depth, but had been abandoned partly on account of its barrenness. An old bucket or tub, used to remove the coal from below, still hung suspended by a strong chain over the coal-pit, the bottom of which was some thirty feet below the surface of the rugged hill above. It was here, I felt confident, that Boyle Vraden- berg had concealed his plunder, and on the fifth night after his release from duress, I started for the place known as the De Haes Pit. The moon was shining brilliantly as I struck off from the main road, in a north-westerly direction, over the long barren stretch of countrv, and the sense of utter loneliness was oppressive to the mind. At length I reached the sparsely-wooded highland, and, securing my steed to a tree, moved more cau- tiously in the direction of the De Haes Pit, which was about three hundred yards distant from where I dismounted. Rumours of escaped law-breakers finding a safe refuge in this lonely place had reached my ears, and I was not entirely unknown to the light-fingered but heavily-knuckled gentry of L ;discretion was therefore necessary. Suddenly I stopped in my course, and crouched down behind one of the bushes which grew so thickly on the brow of tho hill. Not fifteen feet before me, and plainly visible as they stood in the full light of the moon, were two men on the very edge of the pit, conversing in a tone of.moderate loudness. "When I whistle three times, Bob: do yorr hear?" "Aye, aye, cap. I'll let you up," "Itrll be a good night's work for you, old boy, and we must make tracks as soon as we get the box. Now unwind the chain, and let me down slowly." And the speaker, in whom I recognised Boyle Vradenbcrg, stepped into the tub, and his pal at the top began to unwind the chain slowly, which creaked and strained as if it would burst into a thousand pieces. A few moments later he ceased his operations^ and it was evident that Vradenburg had reached the •bottom of the pit. Bob, the man at the top, seated himself on a stone, lighted his pipe, and awaited the signal from his master. I knew I had but little chance against two of them, and I determined upon a course of action which, I felt sure, would succeed. With a quick, stealthy tread/ I approached the man, whose back was towards me, and, with one powerful blow from the butt-end of my revolver, knocked him senseless upon the ground. A short time elapsed, and then I heard the signal from Vradenberg below. It required some strength to raise the tub and its occupant, but a few moments sufficed to bring it to a level with the earth. I averted my head as he stepped once more on the ground, so that he should not discover my identity. "We must cut now, Bob, for the cops will be watching me, and if the box were found in my possession, it might lead to unpleasant relations. It was a good idea of mine—secreting the bonds down there." He spoke in a jubilant tone. "Here, hold it for a moment till I adjust my collar." And he handed me the object of all my search and trouble. "Boyle "Vradenberg, you are my prisoner!" I said, dropping the box, and pointing a revolver at his head; "and one word, or show of resistance, and I will send" He was taken by surprise, but he was too cool- headed and desperate to tose his presence of mind; the next moment the pistol was struck from my hand, and he had caught me by the throat with a grip of iron. Г clutched at him wildly, scarcely knowing what i I did, in the intense excitement of the moment. : Then my foot slipped, and we both fell to the ground. He released his hold as wc fell, but was on hi: feet in a moment again. / I had risen on one knee, and was on the very verge of the pit. With a tremendous effort, he attempted to force mo over the height; the mouldy^ earth crumbled beneath his feet; he lost his footing, partially re- laxed his grasp on me, then fell downward over the edge of the pit, dragging me after him. As we fell, I caught at the bucket, while he went whirling down through the darkness into the depth below. It was with no little effort that I once more re- gained a footing on the earth. When I did, however, I was not long in securing the box, and the pal of Vradenberg, whom I tied hand and foot ; and then moving, as speedily as my bruised condition would allow of, to where my horse stood, I rode rapidly forward to L——, and reported the occurrence at head-quarters. The detachment of police that were sent out to the coal-pit returned the next morning with only the dead body of Boyle Vradenberg, his pal having, by some unknown means, managed to escape. * * * * * The tale being finished the detective was unani- mously voted a member of the Chimney Corner Club. "A jolly good fellow, although a member of the force," was Swisher's verdict as the company broke up. (Tobe continued.) THE DOUBLE-BREASTED SKY-BLUE COAT. BY JAltES GBEENWOOD. Preacher (to boy on fence) :—-"Is your father at home?"" "No, he's gone^ to church." "Is your mother in?" "No, she's-gone too." "Then you arc all by yourself?" "No, Sam's in thar huggin' the nigger gal." "That's bad." "Yes, it's bad, but it's the best he can do." Lines from a hymn-book, which a young lady incautiously left benuulher in a chapel :— "I look in vain—ho does not come; Dear, dear,"what'shall I do? I cannot listen ая I ought Unless he listens too I He might have come as well as not! What plague's these iellows are 1 I'll bet he's fast'asleep at home, Or smoking a cigar i" The following notice was posted on a large box, which passed over one of the - great fccugh" lines of a railroad a few days since :—"Baggage smashers are requested to handle this box>wjtL? о%сау as if contains nitro-glycerine, Greek fire, gun-cotton, and' two live gorillas 1" THe bor was not broken. * A student was 'under examination once, at the College of Surgeons, when a hypothetical case was submitted, its various stages described, and the mode of treatment required. At last came the crisis. "Now, sir," said A. C, "what would: you do?" "Sir/' replied the pupil of Esculapius^ "I would send for "you." One of Bishop Blomfield's best bonmots was uttered during his last illness. He inquired what had been the subject of his two archdeacons' charges, and was told that one was on the art of making sermons, and the other on churchyards. "Oh! I see," said the bishop, "composition and decomposition." A Pembrokeshire squire took his old servant up to town with him during the year of the Exhibition, and Jack was never trusted out alone lest he should lose his way; but one evening his master sent him to a tobacconist's close by for some of the weed. Jack had the order written down. While the shop- man turned to weigh out the article, Jack laid half a crown on the counter, and a large monkey quietly swept it into the till. Jack, having received the parcel, waited for change. The shopman, who had not noticed the laying down of, the money, waited for payment. Jack talked Welsh, the man English, and at last a boy was sent home with Jack, his master being known to the shopkeeper. Then came Jack's explanation to his master, which, being translated, was as follows :—" I did put down the silver, and the gentleman's father, the old man as sits on the counter, did put it in the till, and the gentleman did give me no change." Absent-minded Men.—A certain Count de Brancas was reading by the fireside when the nurse brought him his infant child. He threw down the book and took the child in his arms. While he was playing with the little girl an important visitor was announced. Having forgotten he had left off reading, and that it was his child he held in his hands, the count hastily flung the squalling infant on to the table. La Fontaine—the author of the celebrated Fables—is reported to have been one of the most absent-minded men. He attended the burial of one of his friends, and some time after- wards he called to visit him. At first he was shockrd at the information of his death, but, re- covering from his surprise, said—"True, truej I recollect now that I went to kis funeral." ^w^^w^lHERE wa3 a У0Ш1£ gentleman, who, ЖР^Ш^гач by diligent application and deep study, grew so desperately cunning that all his friends and relatives were afraid of him. His mother died, wondering in terror where his subtle scheming would end, but his good father, when he was reduced to the same extremity, found, when too late, a key to the puzzle that had so worried his departed spouse — the cunning young gentleman had succeeded in ousting his only brother, who was his elder, out of his rights, and, when the father's mil was read, it was dis- covered that the name of the one was absent from it altogether, while to the other was left every penny, and every stick, and every stone. But, as it not unfrequently happens, after attain- ing for its master what he so hotly desired, the young gentleman's cunning deserted him. The consequence was that the young gentleman was truly miserable, for cunning and he had gone hand and hand so long, that he felt the bereavement even more than he had felt the loss of his parents; certainly more than he had felt the beggary of his- brother. He had more money than he could count, but he was lonely and unhappy, through being unable to hit on a scheme for spending it to his liking. "There was more pleasure in trying after it," he said, bitterly; "I wish that I had the trying after it to do all over again." But that, of course, was out of the question; so there was nothing left for him to do but live dis- contentedly from day to day, paying people hand- somely for the privilege of eating food that, for all its richness, was insipid to his palate, and-of wearing splendid clothes that he could not lounge comfort- ably in. . He wanted occupation for his mind and could not find it anywhere. One night, however, he had a strange dream. He dreamt that he saw himself walking along Regent Street, the-beheld of all beholders. He was curiously attired. His costume was all that was ordinarily fashion- able, excepting his coat; that was extraordinary, but whether or no it was to become fashionable depended on the test it was now undergoing. It was a coat of sky-blue broadcloth, richly laced with silver; but its great pèculiarity was that it buttoned at the back instead of the front. Extending from the nape of the neck to the small of the back was a row of silver buttons, [and in the centre button-hole a yellow crocus flower. As the dreamer gazed on this splendid image of himself, it turned round to bow to an acquaintance, and then it appeared that there were buttons in front as well as behind, only they were gold instead of sil- ver, and instead of a yellow crocus there was a sweet, Eretty, drooping blue-bell in the centre button- ole. And when, as well as the dreame^ the crowd saw this, they get up a buzz of admiration, and with a significant glance each at his neighbour, the gentle- man Of the company dispersed rapidly, each going his own way. Such a strange emotion thrilled the dreamer that his repose was just a little disturbed, and he turned over on to his right side. The odd dream commenced again immediately, but with a difference. The scene was again Regent Street, but instead of there being one solitary individual in sky-blue, that fashionable thoroughfare teemed with pedes- trians so equipped; and so precisely had the original pattern been observed, that, natural crocuses being quite used up by the extensive demand, very good artificial ones were adopted in their stead. The double-breasted coat had become fashionable! It was a tremendous success! And, better than all, the original inventor received the full reward of his cunning and admirable taste. His fame was published in the shops of all the tailors. "Try the new Fritterskew coat." The dreamer's name was Fritterskew. Augustus Beazle- top Fritterskew. The dreamer awoke in the morning a new man. Without waiting to partake of breakfast, he hired a coach, and bade the driver carry him with all speeá. to a fashionable tailor, whose shop was at the west end of the town. There arrived, he was for quite an hour closeted with the chief of the cutting department, who finally bowed out his satisfied customer, and grinned and shrugged his shoulders as he closed the door after him. BOYS OF ENGLAND. Ill FeEeDArT 1,1870.] To'say that the young gentleman was • satisfied merely with his interview with the fashionable tailor is to convey but a ïaint idea of what his feelings were. i He was delighted and supremely happy. j He felt as a>man to whom triumph and fame were assured, and as he reclined back in the coach he closed his eyes that his ears might, in fancy, the more fully drink in the congratulations of a grate- ful nation. "If it is the tailor who makes the man,*' he simpered, serenely, as he put back his scented hair from"off his little forehead, "how much superior must be that being who instructs—in short, who makes—the tailor?" Then ho looked out of the coach-window, and observing the street thronged with persons dressed in simple black broadcloth, his upper lip curled until his tiny moustache tickled his nostrils. "Gad!" said he, "what would become of the silly^ hum-drum creatures if it were not for men of genius and good-nature like myself?" On his way home he called on several young gentlemen of his acquaintance, begging their com- pany for an hour or so, and when he had collected five in the coach with him he drove them to his chambers and regaled them with a dinner and wine. When they were all in good humour, he confided to them his splendid scheme for reforming the fashion of coats, and entreated their co-operation in so honourable a cause. Three out of the five young gentlemen so seldom were possessed of a new coat, that they gave him their hand at once, while the other two were too silly to take much thought oh- the matter, and swore to do as the others did. The upshot of it was that, on a certain Friday afternoon, there were to'be seen, arm-in-arm in Pall Mall, six young gentlemen in sky-blue coats that buttoned behind, and each with a crocus adorning the small of his back, and-a drooping blue- bell his bosom. The deportment of the six young gentlemen was graceful, and they sauntered along, chatting to- gether easily as though it were not possible that the rude boys could be laughing at them. But it is probable that they had a suspicion that such was the case; for, although they had entered into a solemn compact to devote she successive days to setting the new fashion, on the second morning but four met, the other two sending excuses lament- ing their unavoidable absence. The following morning one of the four had such a violent headache that he could not for his life stir out of doors, and the morning after that came an early missive to the effect that of the ingenious young gentlemen remaining faithful adherents, one was taken seriously ill, andthe other had- gone to see what ailed him; so Augustus Beazletop" Fritter- skew had no choice between staying at home and going abroad to set the new fashion single- handed. And he did not shrink from his great design. With a courage that can only spring out of perfect confidence, he walked out day after day with a fresh crocus daily at the small of his back, and a newly- culled drooping blue-bell at his bosom. But, alas! it was all of no use. He was only laughed at. It became so common to laugh at .him, that his own servant, who opened the door for him, was at no pains to control his features; so he rushed up- stairs and divested himself of the pet garment, and, with many tears and sighs, for he still entertained the highest affection for it, folded ~it smooth, and laid it m a drawer with the choicest of his ward- robe. ;' •. лб^ Now he was more miserable than ever. With the sky-blue coat he could walk abroad, because he was sustained against the jeering and laughter of the ignorant by the consciousness that he was suffering in a good cause, but he found that, in the eyes of the public, he was as much the " sky- blue gentleman" without as with the garment, and as such was greeted wherever, he. went, so that he could get no peace out of doors, unless he forsook the fashionable quarter of » thertown, and slunk off to where he was not known. One dayj despondent and very miserable, he had so slunk away to the East end of London, where no one but poor people live. His mind was still dwelling on the perfection and elegance of the coat that was greeted with such un- accountable ridicule, and for the thousandth time , cast up his eyes to sigh and bemoan the vulgar prejudice of his fellow mortals, when lo ! at the end of the street was a spectacle that for the moment rooted him to the spot motionless. Miraculous sight I The seed sown in the West had cropped up and blossomed in the East. There, not a hundred paces distant, was a man wearing a sky-blue coat of the identical cut and pattern, evjn to the yellow crocus in the small of his back.! This, indeed, was a blissful revelation. With a cry of joy and gratitude, the young gentle- man hurried after the stranger, and without apology flung his arms about him. On account of the coat being double-breasted, he appeared as much behind as before, so that he em- braced the stranger just as he overtook him, and in his ecstacy saluted the back of his head. "My friend ! my faithful follower!" he exclaimed, "thou, then, art true to me! How can I sufficiently express my gratitude? Art thou a poor man? From this time thou art rich. Speak and tell me in what way can I convince thee of my esteem I" "My worthy sir," replied the stranger — for, though he could not see the face of the person who had so strangely attacked him, he could tell by the dainty kid gloves that met on his breast that he was a gentleman—" my worthy sir," said he, "being no better than a beggar, it may not become me to rebuke one of your station. But I pray you deal gently with me or else this abominable coat, which, for lack of a button, is tied with a bit of yellow string behind, will be rent off my back." "Abominable coat !" repeated the young gentle- man behind him in amazement. "Yellow string!" But, casting his eyes down, he found it so ; it was not a flower at the small of the stranger's back, but a bit of frayed yellow braid. "My good friend," he exclaimed, in tones of dis- appointment and gentle reproach; "what hast thou done with thy crocus?" "It has gone to look after thy wits, master, not unlikely," laughed the beggar; "but no. offence; thou hast had a fair pen'orth of raillery. Give me my penny and let me go." "But, if thou art a beggar, how earnest thou- by this, the cream and paragon of coats ?" exclaimed the young gentleman, more and more astounded. "• Alas, sir, can a beggar choose? Can a naked- backed wretch stipulate as to the cut of the coat that is thrown to him in charity from the kitchen door?" The poor stranger uttered these words in tones so mournful that the young gentleman's heart was touched, and he unclasped his hands from the beg- gar's breast that he might wipe a tear from his eye. "My poor friend !" said he—but he said no more, for at that instant the beggar, turning about, dis- closed, all haggard and unshaven, the well-remem- bered features of that brother whom, by his cunning, he had ousted out of his lawful inheritance. His heart was softened before; now it was quite dis- solved in remorse and pity, while the stranger trembled so with emotion, that the frayed bit of yellow braid was broken, and the beggar's bare shoulders revealed. Deep down and smothered as was the young gentleman's better nature, it sprung up to the surface at such a sight. "I am a changed man, Alfonso,'1 said he, with a brightened countenance. "Bless the folly that has changed my nature and restored to me the best of brothers. Take my coat, my brother, and let me wear the foolish garment that has so miracu- lously clothed my mind with wisdom I" Nor would he be denied. He took off his black coat and changed with his brother for the shabby sky-blue, and humbly took his arm, and, despite the laughter and jeers that accompanied them all the way home, he never once flushed, but kept tight hold on his brother, his determination to do him justice increasing at every step he took. And no doubt he kept his word, for never did brothers live together more amicably. And once a year they have a special feast quite privately, which has only one drawback in Alfonso's eyes, and that is, that, during it, his brother insists on wearing the sky-blue coat that he wore when he discovered him a beggar. During the Crimean war a lady was distributing tracts to the occupants of the ward of a hospital, and was excessively shocked to hear one poor fel- low laugh at her. She stopped to reprove the wretched patient. "Why, ma'am," says he, "you have given me a tract on the sin of dancing, when I have both my legs shot off." "Impiety " of Science.—Mr. Crosse, of Taunton, was once showing his electrical machinery, and. dis* playing two Leyden jars, remarked that he could feed them with electric fluid at any time when the atmosphere was favourable; whereupon, a grave old gentleman said, very solemnly, "Mr. Crosse, don't you think it is rather impious to bottle the lightning?" "Let me answer your question by asking another," replied Mr. Crosse, laughing. "Don't you think, sir, it might be considered rather imr:ous to bottle the rain-water?" (imtlm iox % Ingenious, Original Contributions only are required, and must be accompanied byname and address. Any puzzle or charade received after this date, and found to have been copied from other publications, trill not be inserted, and no further contribution from the same person will be accepted. No Puzzle mil be accepted unless Vie Solutions are properly worked out, Numbered Charades in particular must have full answers sent with them. I. My 5,13,4, 2 is a kind of stew; my 16,10,6,14 ig what we all do sometimes; my 9,3,7, 14 is to be brave; my 14, 16,10,4, 4 is what females 1,12, 6,16; my 8,15, 6,14 is a metal ; my 9,11,15,10,14 is to lose 9, 7, 3, 3,14; my 9, 3, 1,10,16 is an arbour ; my 10,13,16 is a part of ray 2,12, 6, 14; my 9,16,13,4,4 is a metal ; my 16,3,13,16 is to make- a noise ; and my whole is a book you should ail read. . A. SHELDRICK. II. I am a word of nine letters. My 1,2, 9 is an implement for fishing; my 9, 8, 5 Is a beverage; my 3,5,9, 2, 6 is a fluid ; my 7, 2,1,9 is a coûnty of England; my 6, 6,4 is a part of the body; my 9, 2,5, 6 is a sign of grief ; my 9,2,1 is a number; and my whole is- a town in England. W. I. Smith. hi. A river in Europe ; a county in England; a province of Connaught; a country in Asia; a tovyn in Norfolk; a. county in Scotland; a county of Irland; a river in Derbyshire; a town of Sweden; a town in Buckingham- ehire ; a province of China; a province оГ Ireland; a river of Germany; a town of Italy; a seaport of Kent. The* initials read downwards will give the name of a person in % tale in the Boys of England. T7. E. BOYCE* IT. My first Is in bread, but not In meat; My second is in milk, bot not in sweet;' My third is in rat, but not in smitten; My fourth is in cat, but not In kitten; My fifth Is in Kate, but not in Sarah;' My sixth is in Dan, but not in Sam; My seventh is in mad, but not in sane; My eighth is in frost, but not in ice; My ninth is in vice, but not in price; My tenth is in ice, but not in snow; My last is in low, but not in mow. And my whole is a name well known in the BOYS OF England. E. H. M. Evans. v. I am a word of 14 Iotters. My 8,9,10 Is a metal ; my 6,12,12,13,14 Is a fruit; my 12,11, 6,6,5, 2 Is a vegetable; my 4, 7, 9,12,14 is a bird; my 1, 11, 6,13 is a mineral for firing; my 6,3, 10,1,4 is о girl's name; and my whole Is a town in Turkey. CARLISLE SPEDDING TWINING. VI. 1. A river In England. 2. A covering for the head. 3. A town in Devonshire. 4. A girl's name. 5. A town in Suffolk. 6. A flower. 7. A number. 8. A city, in Italy* 9. A precious metal. 10. A bird. 11. A river in America. 12. A river in Egypt. The initials read downwards will give the name of a tale in the BOYS OP England. Arthur Crick. VII. A river in the United States; a borough In Ireland; a townш.Nottinghamshire; a borough in Wales; and one- of the Bahama islands. My initials reasuch as salt pork, peas, and one or two bags of excellent biscuit. On the latter all made a meal, and then, giving the poor dog a supply also, they lay down, too glad to seek repose and shelter. When the heat of the day was passed, Harry, ever thoughtful, took a pannikin of water and oatmeal, with which to! moisten the patient's lips. At the end of an hour he returned with a very grave and solemn countenance. "Is the wretch .dead?" cried both. "No; but he is in a burning fever," said Harry. "I must nurse him," I JO Y,S OK KXObANI'; *l Vni; Г , v.,-- ■ '«.ri.- ,.r:. V о к a». 1-!- .' 'Л , j ТЛЕ 'bYY"!'' ' ■iî-'-:^-:' ^':.':>..ï...vm;',w... .! ROMANCE OF FRENCH HïSTOEY, П • i. II." П.■"!':,'» î..: w-• .m.- .s.; :.-, - , , ■ h--, v.;;.--.'! h;-.: ньо: пч; hbbbibsi л';г>ь L ','*! ;," . >, 1 Л" V',;'1" o, ,!:; '0 Y',0 '! , о > '■ v, ' '•, '. • '., < ■'.' í «O Ok- Л ,o*-г / ¡ " !-a,.j ano ('кьчям; à...., fco. ,< ;¡) ,,,b, ¡ , -; ■.„•... ;, !;1~T~T-lííK Fo-4-h Г; a b, o o, o \ ;r í h.' o b ?bev*-,-. • 1 'í" í •<.-•-.' Ч '. "i '.i :^ ■ , , . •/ !, aj- X \!<■< o, a. ;;>" b'": ■ ' ■' "• •'. • ■ » '• ." '. '- •' • '» '•' , Г Y'» hav- -:b b M íb e- - :.! v>. - {>.4hS«v'i ;*'-b»»*tî î-'мгу < vi.-: к;;«".% ti»*- » \¡rnt ¡ í's*1 ИШ" , j" tb' -i.-! • ,'■ ■• '■ .1 -г! ¡'-I:: -, n;:-: v,,>.* U< <'<■ 'n i!;n',y !í-','\, ;-',s: ■; • / Le -vr _ 'i , <• >; г |,¡ -jniniî»!»-«!. !\«'V--' i''-'Н]'; h"!'1, i vi--i''-r:0-í, Ь';' ;i k*!í; lí'i-.r.r UMVS íi:,4, í;0t'- i. 'I'í.-íV: '.v,".í"'i N - i !;•, ¡ ¡¡ i'" .4 *; ■■•!■. « vv: .'; УГ.,Л ¡, . , *-.íb J , , : , , -,': T?*n?KÍ T.vnrcr r^rHi^ir-. - ' • f 'a:'»'. * л'а.ч ... "• . Nothing bot a scar remained to tell jirV ; \рМЩ0 'hut \w ha/i i/<ч iv-Ul.-í" Jjv IT; • *• i* ^." wound was healing ftacl the iever gone, ^^^^^Щ^'^^^т^У 4i 1î- *•• - - ; •: ■ • ^ ■ -• led, sternlv, anil *he walked of to the №l , 1!1иВА' !'гч; . ■»1 IK ■ К ; unnatural lj} 'vp t ; ,4. » - ¡., ■•■ a fair sli an i of the bi .»•'ii'i'.^ '!' î :.' !;•:: l: \: Л Im; n i '"• '■•■ú'>A-l\ , : »,i ^ ! f4 : t г ; с í t - ! » * • i I i>;:' --.iï Hi: - ■ и í-i ir.V • л ice ; ; i :!и - » * ; ч' s! service should , ji'f.i ,ï • V.Í' ,,1">î"i 'h- ;> i¡, l i> obles and ^ , ■ « \ ;,v- : cl< 2mands bai ••v ■ ,' i::..; ab' Iy have been i spared much [ u:\,vvv: bi it the king v ras surrounded IB ;; "у:--г,". Vi ose prejudices Ice :ply rooted 1 ; - ., î m ttations of the ^' "i • « t • • i: T!¡N Im', inp 'Иг-' ¡til- i • * î'f • ■.•>:'. :ii es of tàe; people formed thenisclveí Лет called a National ■ 1.1 J: Y ''...ir •, :! v.,:.: t,/ i tb (' . :;■.'; у-"!;м ; • ir-í-i Iй t ¡ ..¡ - !i < .•!,.s?;t'»'ît >! >'■■ i ;i4 to overawe ;aiis of Wtïif •i: Гь„ y !, > It was ï m ';' : :: ' < ; : ■ : ; : -, ï circumstance that the с pic ïent yielding -í - на-i i". '">'< !-■, ;, tî mil her îïi suade the 1c Hi-; í,r¡-n¡ î! .;; im ; ,i • - ;, 1 - V. ish íes. .t^r, *aiii wli •", "üí1" ïb.'t • '^ГУ J- "~' !;Jy .]r:;ii it, Ь;И üia-vii^v! !¡I" "Shoiîi'î yo'i 5'"' f-r.r • ■ ■■ — ■ 'jroverr-'T. M, <Ь* I .niir.ny. and thf drvuiy- •>:■■". !!'.•)]',■;;; 1 „ i ^" " ^ î.<-b!'/s и>, J * ¡ i- к*-у L '""'«''^ "''v!''1!'"' '* ■ '" " ''''' J * ' 1 ' Vt^;í*!л? ''lií,í:,<"^п'"| '* 1 ¡í"f'..y, "VV>;\ ..Ol: r :. f "l'w - < v. » с 'i w 'i i ■ i,--. • i. « 1'. > ' UOi ¡ • • ^ be !< w \ ■ ;' i' * с i« l í< 1 í Ь« - ir «-'i í i ! < i ' - ' : ¡. í»í;.t¡.<-i;¡ ni ;!,,• "trrm^t, and T iíu;' ::Л." h; <;:Un was v«-ry ,<ï;.;-;í% * b; íbe* т'чииЬьс fn^ vmúrrnm | rnjvs b;...! A'ri \v¡í!: í Ье-.. •/.'•;; :; 4,-, "i'-w Mi <'■'«. v .. n;¡r» Ij ;:-i« ,;U ;c . - í": - ;" :U; ;шяу. v, í ' h \s: icb î h<-y î î;r. ч! v;<,-J, .'.i'^'V-':! by I/-, , ( .id f;-; ,-!.•: :¡ .-; ": i' uvx\\'-y. :Y.;"'í -i"':!'- írí i-JUT: í-1 J« !,*,•,;.'Ь: Fun.!'«' jp,::, t ¡i" (,f < ;•;'!•,;;• ,v. '<"HV'!." ''Д.'Г'Ц ,vb,i !(■- .¿. j-!-v|i, ;\:A 4 > t-¡' '' < 1 ,-' î - '!!,■ IV.ü^irt!-- ,л<'"'' ^'"''V.'f: 1.;. í Ь ï .4 íí«*m ;i : 'r.!t:5., |{,.;а ibe prim ,-чи1 *• Pity ii¡'« h'k ;t . i ,;.:;<«!." * î i m í <ч>тг«, and Гы-п- ^Г'/./аЫ;\ v,-a^ i!.í- ;Iî'îî, nr.fori t.îia: <:iy, tb«y w'|нч'аь' self-dt-i'^iK'«4, í TbMidf înbubîîcd bv wiva^** U d,.u;M, iu a.î • id^'*b an bo inhabit M Ь'\\-,,<; The myal family remained in the Ttnlerb** ;t • thret' ra i i not .vi т-'1;пе our.s*dves for" one baa s ,bvfî«n,iriiiîî ¿» s« »im* Киг<<нит га«чч а ni :•" ь\ /?< г < у? аг at*U:r Ibis evi-rst ; nj;d tin- ïrî'-nds oí l'i-m^v \..d wii'ki'd man," | w; at t!;<-ir nationaldth«y \v*-uM bul î cni^ that it would • « 'i-jjjimly f- 'b'7" j hi,l,nu\ to ibf t.i-f.b'tuM'ifV Ь- y*. 'i ■•'!,! b" p",N4;blc to alb-viat*- the coihÛîîoïî yf thy î'b.u evMiîïfr' il '-у <ое»М;и»1у campe-i ir, !K?>'«'pi b> y.'^t л <•» ,^ т ,d í» by ù^-n um >';y | kíi.irdoin, and t«» ivy!;n*ít tlie. kim." <'»i» the í ;iif.;¡y í'nbbiti i b¡r."» , ;.:,d .:í !JH'Mií!í;% td'íor '*-,v,i¡;' ' K¡ iV,i ;*r'L*' -л o-t i;.-d Koyi.-b '•(-.'.o:, vn-t--' - Ь-: е,.?д1Н!' iu-í v/híeh w^ubi b^ honourat/н-, t.o N<.'5jti an Hiblicm>í 'd .♦'•'ppíy t-f wnt.T, staiJ«-'l. '!<• <«, íififl ,ч w.'i, .liîH.(' j hbr.-i"!í ami Uw-iieial th»i people, ^ Tb--y b,\d fio.'b' Yyo j'.-r tbe l„rî', y,- "b, i H -л a s tb«-í'-b/iv. ivití» kony bop.-bd h -att,,; ^ Ibb, b waíí !«hj hde. ^ Tîh^îî who nad seized î en,« and î rea'l, *' !■ m U!"'n were iiivabmbb , ! Had u»e b'i,-î, prepnraïioîï, -л< jy uei i»4 «hat ' th" i** ins of pi дуг г * ut tî*e, kiny and his^îatjuiy %vtdí a.s а .ни:аП e.-f- • f lewder, i mbjrht the li^^i bmi,,rt;mf event iu íbeir • !.. tr.e ancient palaee known as the 'Jrwpt,*, Л« thev dbanprar. d, ib-.rrr and the do«r Walk^ ! bve^. * 1 where they were И п'еПу ^«arded, and wb-tv iruf ПМГ Ke.'î and Fo d dn-hnp: thr Тн-ад bv! (To be continue. C.*wv,#£ in No, lr;e } \ tb.-v had the grief of learning that Pari^ ,;»Wh HbMij-c, Sum 14:%. rlh p«YiA ptrt|, rmni ¡ ♦ - \ hJ become the'theatre of the muni dreadful bi.-. b«t, shook bi.¿ îbt. ai'd '"ir-ed th<-m b"arü!v. ¡ *, (!ltl)r»vri- ,r,•„ „ „ ^„.,» / v '44"' !,"s- "П1 be .-vini v.alh H.en, v ! î Harry i'borY I . ,Г. V Ml. . r y/'-.Y'' Ya • ' ч ¡ The leítcb-ríe* (OÍ ^unt Ibaiiholomb^ were ''»Y* h.e í¥i*b-b Wídi !.íiO*! and e< eYrut мП'Y v Y ; eo-b !.,"'!•/ Ymî. • Lb'. ■•'•■'î '* ?iî',r- fn'cbîi'is íe;¡n !¿¡<-. svüíc!: f -.;k piae^ halo ob " i v. ib b.ít< !» ;,./{h d {\ ;.„;',,, •. ,e-,a; y, :: tU: o- :„' ;- t,e< nnaiífi ot' Au-Ufet ra;».( ^oyteiabur, m the 1;0Yn OP ENGLAND, --•! eoaia, of'! ТЫ- ,.,ч„„ ;0;d i i H l í i: • aac ^ ' «T a,i -, o ¡< » !'>«■,-pOo1 , ,t' As h-aaih t :i - Ua y a a í ■■¡"'.1;'! a a- Ш>-' t:;-! oí J;4,i :jíí Ain г •»;.< bat ,:.«• oOoia- \\,,- i a f í.«" hao i«4,jt *h h/%," ;'.(v »« their та ЛЬ л и; by ti." Naîi-aia! G-n vont Mí и: анаау. arai lo fnrr».- the pwph* t«- i' «i M :),,/ ílho ry < f Fa-oa- b- M ^'M' o/' 1r?rw\ aeh b abanoio" *" T: T - ;.;<■;•('.-, v ,,o a,a,0 f j ¡ aaa.a , \, ::• v»'í';ii¡m i.i bao, i í а>аоя >b aaa I '^O; XIM Oad, badaud • г, Ь- а, iabonaF^'on and^ inditaтч Men, women j and even children feil vie- IPÍlíl^^H ^^^^Я^^^^^^^Ш^^^^ШИ had taken place in the ) minds ; of the peopl time to the ferocious spirit that bad been Jii|IHHH 1^ШЁшШшЯЁЁЁШЁЁЁЙЁЁЁЁ^ШЁЁШЁШшЁц their veneration for m< jimrehj íi.í-.i.-'i awakened.' МщШН ^^^^^ШШ1ш^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^шМ1 into contempt and aver Sion » t. heir loyalty hs The people formed themselves into a iM ^^^^Шш^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Ш been produced by fea: i*—-cons lequentîy it e: semi-mîlîtarj force, styled the Mafcionai ДяИИрИ ^^Д^^^КР^^^И^^^У ^^^Ш^^^^^^^и pirèci immediately th< : ■; i a« e, Guards, and arrested all whom they sus- Я—Í шЁшштМЁш^ШЁЁЁШЯЁЁЁШ ша^^^кШШЁт was removed. PectecI- II—i шВЁшШШШШшЁЁШЁ/ЁЁЁШЁк Щв^№^^ш1ЯЯж From this we may s< - i a. a a. í о е.- a-a i i On oae occasion a party of them were I^^^H ^^^^«¡ImIIImÍMii^^ tion is best calculated a ■ '->'<"li- : • *Л <■ aul a< ai proceeding to their work of arresting "sus- 'Ч|^^^И ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^g of the monarch as we li as tl , rí¡-, - pects," when the chief of them proposed зИИИ ■ИИИИИИИЁ^^^ИУ the people to canter a certain house. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Despotism throws the w* *' Th'Tí- aro Jh. pai'a« aa-; hi l'.i.it nea*: //О //'/л//,/-/' v Та»-. rhi»HT simply мпi i-"i und replied— ^ i iiliOiV btOOiaa cabaiaa" If-t il¡"!¡ 'r;n*«-kH. donamd"d ndît î.-bar, lue naine w tbe peapka auU was at O0«'<' Iilio\V"'"I ío «i'ilf'J". ¡¡p pT(-,^r-rded F*TirMif to ihn nid fi*H*r, and ошег<м я vrtta hi WÎ'.H'h W;¡s Map Я VO Г1А,ч's,; «*îaa> if my wife !" -ex chimed be: iSííT'! v;»'!''1 ín *к m - ],.-"«"',,.-" h, t i1»' hon«r. ** Von «rnîî not arrest н Iii/.!-;,, ib-- !hw ci U - \>-ч>] !'•' must I«: иЬеу«*чУ* П plb'd fit' <*U- iarítv of :i.süii'j; knuwn tb>; ** Ma:- This wan the eomp«>hi{iun <-f а v.'jto',^ ,471 ülcrv ond''? ji.'iai-'-'l ií'.-e'-u de 'Lisie. lí'iiiírnííig h о ПК4 ene i¡Ij.rb í from ж party at whi«*h i4.-velnîioibiry d*.■<*- trines had br^n diFcnp^ed. he corn- {M/^-d the Bu! theirf power, it w;¿ mad-- iivüm-п .-■ ninjï if. OiH- pnfleman. haava-vT, 1гаЬ;о«1 number r,i blackbirds lo wJibble iJioa^ and then «cî, them ÎOf^. iÎ4 ih,; ,v* wa^^vo ail kn««v: • 'ни. thov «bd W«.:.v.i 1 !!.;•> ilnv: bn-y a - bidled oíd Javos wü.h-u: íraaooy ia Oiit-S, 'íta- era^r- n.'/i.M oa- ih:d, ilvfe \\ч ^У fix-d !;,V0St aOtd hl-í-ol.- WJV SO¡! ■ titiH^ pmnshe'í ceo- dny for «a»ía;i íí-.c v/hba was. La/a! «*а uhäih- ^í;e i í íb- ;*¡,o a--; . -, Г o o " b-^'" , * í íj ! "Л*''Га '* (( " y..'i-' ,.*,'•/• (¡a ! í.'" 1 ;; ''í ¡. Г bt 1 l,h. /-» Щ < íarib, b a a a * a' (< a;a :or. ;ia la ni,•:;»■! *u h- aa- írau ÍV(ri^ i jnnH i.< peej'.'.a aa.'< \\>*п íhi-a "« a' fa-aa b(-i)j:aa';a í-iatanasi-y ía,«-a ina,-. :a:aa",e ha^iyo •a, i O <-íp¡1 ab ; ta/ bd- -í ih- ai !aO'!ílfY, aad < xciO/i f Ьа1 d^a- ata !, hoíp (N nsídaaríipr oi dcaiio-ataai >4 o.ar ;,;aaia>i ail ox'bliop; <:>, «vcnine-îds а ЛдарЬь rb "Kay," rro 1и г» V, ;Ь|; íLíaiií»-. laaaibí V* 'Uh¿¡f ш,наЬа,аа*1^у ly iab.»-..bl.. ' rul «a» ,/bo-r 1 laco%? I Ja.- ¡/ v»îA,dw ta. a c;di jw-b'^'îa - a hk h< e-i boy," ab ;« Lí,,, ((U„ »,lí;íi„ to ay sai-а'и ••, V, ^. . jijhac;,a'i,c ry a- aryha;: "ha, a «yaavbay ía.*: • v; «aa a vb, , o ad baaí, dry I *' e¡ },(.,\ df ;¡ tj ',»,, ,uíd ^a a o^b a^vf. j.í.f .„и, aa iaV aí^ilaa- "h* v i íji-i-i aa y:, -\ la/coiaaa, V i1 ae.v iíkr a,. < "'-b-:n' b" «oí" a", * .i v 0/ aa: a0'< reward some* day for it, Bob>" was the reply.7 -H At thati moment the ■ eyes of both glanced at Polly, who was arranging the dinner-table. "Ah I yes, I suppose," said that lady. "Of course we should all have our reward." ч "In this case," said Bob, ч* I think Charley Mason is entitled to the reward," "And Charley Mason shall have it, and that I'll promise as soon as ever I get right. If a man goes wrong once, it is no reason that he should always keep to the bad, and Charley Mason shall have my helping hand to got him out of the mud." And honest old John Stout gave a tremendous rap of his stick on the floor by way of enforcing his argument. "That's right, husband," chimed in his wife. "I only wish there were more in the world of your opinion." "Ah! well," said Polly, "I don't know what to say to it. Charley Mason is only like the rest of the young men, wild and rackety; that's my opinion of them all tied in a bunch." "Polly," said old John, " you are as obstinate as a mule." "I beg your pardon, uncle, I'll ^hank you to address me as a lady. Mule, indeed 1 you had better;call mo something else. I don't wonder at my resembling a mule when I am always in the company of brutes" And, with a toss of her head, and a fling , of her body,^ she bounced out of the room. There was a loud laugh from the rest in-the place at Polly's airs and. graces. A day,or so after * these events .had occurred, Charley felt himself quite able ;to go out, and the gout having abandoned the old man's foot, he was again seen at the factory. He had gone there first, and having called the men together, explained all circumstances re* specting Charley, and stated his determination to take him again into his employ. "Look ye, my men," he said, "you have all known and worked for me some time, and you know that I am not an unkind master." * No, no 1" shouted the men, and their voices rang through the workshop. "Well, then, I mean to take your old work- man again upon trial. He committed a fault once and has suffered and atoned for it. He, in conjunction with Bob Ready, saved me five hundred pounds the other night. So, putting the one thing against the other—hero is Charley Mason." And Charley, alongside of Bob, entered the shop. "Charley, shake hands with your shopmates and go to work again." The next instant the men crowded round the repentant lad and shook him by the hand. The poor fellow's heart was too full to speak, but the tear of gratitude that stood in his eyes spoke volumes. A few minutes after that Charley was at his bench, and the work went merrily on as though nothing had happened. CHAPTER XL LUKE'S LESSON.. Jonas Humbleback, the uncle of Luke Craft, was a very old and a very thrifty man. The neighbours said that he was a very rich man, and in that respect, for a wonder, they were right. He was approaching seventy years of age, and had lived all his life in the place. His father had been a ship chandler before him, and in what was termed the "good old times," during the long war, when colossal fortunes were made, or the foundation .laid for them, had acquired a great deal of money . Old Jonas, when he departed this life, left only one wish and laid only one injunction upon his son. "Make money, Jonas," he said; "it is the greatest happiness in life, is making and count- ing over gold; it is paradise upon earth." The time arrived when Jonas, senior, was to quit the earth for a place that he had never cared about or thought about, and his concern that he could not take any of his earthly para- dise with him was somewhat mitigated at the thought that it was left in good hands. Jonas the younger went on in the same jQg- trot style as his father before him. He kept one old housekeeper, who had been taken out of the charity school some sixty years before, and had been so well schooled by both father and son that she was, if anything, more "frugal " than either of them. The sister, Mrs. Craft, had married early, and from that moment all sight was lost of her, the old man wisely considering that having got married he had got rid of her. To this house came Luke Craft, with all his bad, evil passions upon him. The first night that he arrived there old Aunt Mary, as she was called in the place, met him. "Aye, aye; what is this, a letter for your uncle?" said the old woman. "Why, you ain't the son of the girl that married Luke Craft?" « Yes, I am," said Luke ; "and what of it V* «' Oh, not much," replied the old woman. "Come in ; I suppose he'll see you." "I don't care much if he don't. This is not my seeking, I can tell you." i "Come ha, Mrs. Craft, and see your own brother," said the old woman, "although I can tell you it is little you'll get from him.' "I want nothing from him," was the reply. t " But you'll surely see him; it's many a day since I have seen you." "Yes, it is a long time ago, a very long-time; but I have brought my ßon and "Ah, yes, I remember the time that you and Luke Craft, the lawyer's son, got married. Your old father thought it was a great match at the time, but it did not turn out so well as he thought it would." They were standing in the passage at the time, when suddenly a gleam of light shone from beneath a door that was close by them. Feüuuaut 1, 1670.J 119 BOYS OF ENGLAND. Then the door opened and the figure of a withered old man came out. The poor, half decayed remains of a rush-light he carried scarcely gave sufficient light to show who was in the place. "Who is this Î mat—what is it, eh?" said the man; and the appearance he made was, at least, something startling. In those days when he was busily engaged in his place of work, strange men, half smugglers, half dredgers, toilers on the river, would come and call *at times upon "peculiar matters of business,'* and, upon more than one occasion, they had left, in the hurry of flight, several articles of clothing behind them. Into one of those dresses Jonas had encased' himself. He came out of his room with an old red night- cap upon his head, an old greasy frock over his shrunken shoulders, and up to his .thighs he wore an old pair of fishermen's boots.. л The loag grey hair escaping fromi .out'ofthe red cap, and the pinched-up features, looked out etrangely behind the light that he carried. "Ah well, what—what is all this1, eh?" "It is your sister and her son," said the old housekeeper. v "My sister—when—how—eh—how—let me see. I believe I had a sister, and—ah 1"' "I am your sister, Jonas," was the reply; "but long.years have rolled over pur heads? since we left one another j^but, still yôu;nre my* brother.'* '/ Ah, yes, I have heard my father:say; so. Ah, wcllj I suppose I must ask you^m;1.?!- ;. , He turned round and walked/elowly*into the room, followed by the widow and hcrf son- It was a room very scantily ^furnished, the furniture being very worm-eaten, and? of a date nearly past all comprehension. \ ^ » The old man, placing the candle upon the table, looked around him. "Sit down, sit down," he said. "Ah, you need not go, Mary, we'll all sit down and be happy together ; but mind I have got no money, I am starving." "I do not come here to ask for charity, I come to ask you to give my son a shelter for a time, for which I will pay." "What t what is that? Pay?" And) Johns rose from, his seat; and looked up at the pcrshnlwho had spoken. "Yes^ I want my son to remain with you some very short timé.' Perhaps you could teach him jour business} Urotker l". "-Ah, yes, - of v course, certainly, teach him >a business. Yes,yes;. but you seo that business is—not—business justnow." "What do you mean?" "Why, that trade, you see, is slack; that things have so very much altered that I" "Ah, well, never mind; lethim.be with you for a time." "Ah, yes ; but you will pay?" "Yes. It will only be for a few weeks, perhaps days, that I shall want him to re- main." During this conversation, the eyes of Luke had been gazing round ihe strange place. At the, same time, the old housekeeper had been looking at him with no favourable im- pression. • "I don't see why I should be brought here at all ; it's only а-~и Luke saw his mother looking at him with , a wistful eye. "Well, what'is it?" he said, fiercely. At the same moment he felt1 a hand placed upon his shoulder, and looking up he saw it was that of the old housekeeper; . "Well, what do you want, eh ?" hesaid. *Я—I—want nothing, only you must listen to your mother." \.' And the old woman, spite "of her age, bçnt down upon him such a look as "made him for the moment quail. "Musty1 he replied. "Yes ; it is the duty of a c^ild always to show proper obedience to a parent," Luke rose partly from his seat with a look of defiance. "Ah, ah, I see. Look you" And the old man rose with such a sharp, stern look upon his face, that Luke the next moment sat down. "I )iave heard all about this, and I don't mind | your stopping here for a time ; that is, as long as you are paid for, but when that ceases, you will | have to go, that's the understanding. Now, Mary, take him below and give him a good supper while: I talk to his mother." | "Go, Luke—go with that good lady. I am sure she will take care of you," said Ыз mother. "I—I will, indeed. I remember you well, and I will look after him." And, so saying, she took Luke by the arm, and led him out of the room. "Luke, you will shake hands with me, my boy?"'asked Mrs. Craft. "Oh; yes, if you wish it," was the reply. <\ it— perhaps, the best done; 1 ooobí have doue, w»d Kuved vt.u i г..m havintí it t wo-bd by Síoubxby ОрЧ' Y mû Understand in и Г* Luko .//if hor did or did not. f-'Г 1л- mudo no îmwî, but livM down di* bead, cowed mid mastered. *k Air yuu |/()Ííí|í ío eat y*»u: tupper, ob Г M Hi>w can 1 ï lis &j bardd' *■ It*- hav.br whor<' bneio is n-oïr. and ч> y<>u will th.d bofVrt< vv^i«' \\"'i.v, yoo bOiirutobd wlo'lp, w:;at *b> y«»n | meau'" iHto mo По1 iiiii1.;, 'I ?;:ppo-i.' y<»u !(<4\¡' b»4,i, u.H'ti In b-vf, ;t,od loud'" юяплоу Siio dr.'ink Ibo oordoïdK o4f, *4'i%'t'iî ííuí! FW"*': Íí'•' it OUï! \\VJt ^O?î0; po'.pb, blr f,o<-«|«lo to po 1^. 1hj«î л|^п an oîopdT ^.omuob." I t.-il y-'] ï \v.>)î'< df'iok, Vulî ÎL:i,y ïlliirdi'!' 'if y<.iî like ; bot î w>r'\ uf Irubïi y<.u bav.' 'Klíd, pM-tiiiv vuiiod-if. I bav-j iO^.o you ООО ; O'hSO'l; ; Ь';*,к < 01 fuf îlîO K«!Ol(O0lr ; ^io; Ья.к opih<- br*;a*rï.T. , : Ar.NT MATtv imd Liiko wont sboo.dy up the old? limo-worn fíai'Frf, ;íi.an-.,r"íbati «»•)•••' Luíosí'imíú \ 'tbî'>r.ie pno.*^ < f vdns,- о?*т tbo d..-or, moi tuko, b.Mikuo.' up, euuld ч'и 1 ho rt'Jkcuo'ïi vi a ji^iiî. "What a do »be b:i? boon toibo^ me," bu ruuttered ; 41 î.hn ihc ia-d. Vuudi doî"p wana eiooigli wlib idem ov-: voud' sbe sai iL She tbe ri lomdod Luko a bcavy svick, wltb i. b<î'iii)dab]odo«)k!iï'| kn.'b at the ts-p* f ÍV Í •* WbaîV that for?*1 be said, j 14 To didit tbo rats with, ' >\w. r«'p!i< d. nda^ « 44 The rat я! You don t mean to Pay there are any rats bore?" sab! Lok.-, aghast, *- Pod I »in uo au to no. ,мч noo oot a b*»v './1 ibero ; what, tío -y dvo on peuede^ nu a iîats ! be. da! Why, lb' bouse Kwara.s witíi tboai,"* *4 X eball no vor be able in sleep.*" said Luk'.t a- a eoid doidtior таи tio.ooLdi bin fraïue. "Wbv not/ Pud tie- siu'ks '-ved. .aor yo-ia boad, aod dp-y oand Ьл^-'и ул. tooo. î r^»'d ^' ^^{-•opbor^ aio! sit up and v.bacb îbem; tbat Í-. i wbeu there was it #oud dbbt from the яюоп: ao.d 1er', b-.nv tboy did ib/ut one .-mother! >ly opíoio» 1% ibat*tboro brdi^ o>odiiog eb*o for tho.Ui tri i-u, tioev- Whaît wiotf )" ^aib Lobo *k Kat üüí- .moihcr,'1 was tbe re}bo "ï shall db- of fribub , , . *bNV»t.ywu; frigbi\viii r.-vor roldo you, 1ак». j roy v.'i-ni p»,r i? bu!, \vi¡at<;vtr о "( tnako til" b'/si bi it.' '/uid str>opio^ down doe to-oi up ! 41 Wold bat loav- iro i be IbdüV ■ t' 1",еч of torro;, *" 'Пой I i-aod. и 0< :.:r; tia'oi it U '-.) iS }'Oá iliíO'» ?}'iO oaiobo. be sali, im OJ.Y '„<> ОЛЛ î" ida. л Aim з 110VS OF EN'GL\XI> **« .«Mi: downV lxcï,aimî:d п;ушл% "«"¡n it will гл: wm:sr, ron тог !'* A STRANGE CAREER; oil the I'-»/ü<;k;;'S victim, ciiAi'TKU Xu.~k plane, tin, crew were buwiy oeeypael щ Ш;Лшее prepara- Î ioa.N 1 The chief cabin was fb^/caddy put in order aîei o< curai''*!, be- чар Ьа<Лар hf.-n laa^e-'-v Л t" hada n ad<> suí liïbl" f.>r Ла-.о vi,.í,/b'" Ihmtber padrea had b'.vfj H.u- f,u^ w*hi> ii;4i| b*aa; mu r!-:li;! bi | e>earoep 4> реЛ* .;:!,,;;>/ll hirn p.>*eWi ea <>Е -\ла.ааааа>, <'aí,tuifiT prívalo ;,*ck( » i/.sv,' ba^í í eXt IV l.a'i iíi«; íT;Ttegt 1г',ь\ i\u y w> IV ír¿ a ílíT íTrn:» b*''ib„f frer. r;» but WdTinlli iл. • »í«- .î;,i>.< was p!'-гкаш, as the y'tv.-v avvay of ib*j brjd*% arcj w as е;,Т,,. .-1 by ahile-* aib.?t u^abl lite " M^miai'l" «.vb > •■h\uá Writ", ал V,'Л 'H HÍ th»' Г^Г*'1Гс»!»у, Tien w;îi»- auú was К"П'ч! » Л Тис/М //J ИЬПи/rí, ппЛ tb" i-efí minder of the lay \va« devt,:«.! to job sty. Tin ><■<;•'>■'<,, b«' Wa^ "у \ У Ь íppv ,v a?, I 'А*;н î wa> ■ '**M]sif b ba a„a* ач Ь" К'гшгТ сvrybndy coriíoil.atlo. Г» r'barat .'.t b-.> ^ .nnfüt -Л' h<-r aaycba'-s b'fkí-b,, u« «b'4 fi Л, '-¡ü-п ас Iу :ai-р\, ih'^iT a;!«;w<«d a il^-a-jLi ()f ip(. in lacid fb.' ч,л,н ;í;tv cd ti' b>air. a; a -.,'.> o;,mv \uav :a c-z-ta-a<--, b-r a w»'d-iiia.: a¡ <'va ía a, ffcníal *a' inca ^ aü < V'-ht ?»"',«». ааррайпа1" tíCiS, wb^:, Л *."<>'' \-a a Tdae/c, br'talk«- I ad. ¡j; , da!. 'C" а.-а-Ла-dií 4d;< a* :a" s^aa w¡í< dí'ínal ap ía rtaica h! ,cks -.f p-., ;ir;,.] fP». (a'PTí.'ipv r^ataar »-í aaard a:a d, aa>- п lid1 ÄU<1 lte% "tbai ; * do Lady eaiiie;bt íí violent cold by the accidne t'ait л-.чи!шГ ni tbe da-eoveiy oí her sex, and , that, with îb-fc extraordinary exeijeinerd of th,< j i-MTA, Ьан laid f.-i-t iadd oí h<«r еопч|itutioib 1 Lain afraid die wib led be able te Maüd tbi> : iïiîeaso weather шиеЬ 1ьаег*"л'" 1 "iJued iieaveiav! do.eerd' eX'àaimtrd Osear, : ^ iîcîbî нау that. What «a,n w,. Чо; Acct-rdín,^ iio < apt a: a Idfe/ía;oib eaTaaaí io!L it wdl be tuliv 1 two û;uîdb> v.uw îio!«a'o Ли/ ¡,e break,* up, thai I we r ad w ' e;u; îe ftia,ke bel' а,- eoüi- , íertíbd-; as p-.-sihie, 4e-i as>íst 1er in fopife't - ■ îea.J tbe ini-anhüy >Л рн» еомЛааа A great dtaal dependa e'ji íhc aa.ad and î-pdatH," That eveîiiaia a« n,«!;,ar and Ihirbara wer*; .4tunk' «dene. 1 he ailMT a^k< d — j "be yaai bedeve i a ía-.; pre-^xi.sieaee *Л* tbe - soak < ^ear .'" : ** What, bid'-ee iî eaî»-a< bac o-h* ?M i Л"-." ; "Why de y<.a a-k ni" «transe я tpi«4*t,îиоп .4"/un"""°^- Commenced in, No. 160.) UOYS ОГ MNoLAND. TRUE STORIES CF BOYISH BRAVERY.! ♦ !í í.-í'íÜN' г. \\ ddbd <,У d, IYI :wn V >v- г w* b 7:rí.: ;|;л; 'П- Л; bd ; b /, tb »-íiV. .'iU'.i Li.с n.obl jnmi i'ÍUd rrúVVí.í'ií hoíul J" ! a \. ' ; ,' V daa «1 'J],> .¡i 1; ;* ■ I ¡i 'ü" íviviv.iii: Ни,- jíítiin' '.'i daair bp-ndury n< i Ihr JÍH-ícn-: Г*'*/аа-а 1 h !Г Ьииап-' V, í :dl Ç tal :.i i »Iii i w kt: i i t.i*....' sbuab Ja :*Ъ>г; t!; г :л jüd< [> i;,!;(l:;('>'. .Oíd Г'Ь.' cV'T î bnan h >'■' hi ÎJlb'iïi'ÎV; л*-.! :: H-' had Ь a i * ?! y с* <п;п;<'Н<'<<»1 П. oda :•. y, aiarad >![нт ids wordbfannad у<шаа<у" ¡ yaii in th'1 Third « 'ntsaí!*'. ¡Wv, ату paroníb'tu:aby . btîst and гимн! vivid ascription nf this «Um nnsaadt* t.- i<- bo Sound m br Wad«a- (< 1 nov< h 'Pin1 Ta Urna tiJ, Л- И hVáih'r oí ¡tí'" p, dn'V< ibab;¿'ribu i Art in,г а--' id* and besrd! ano evon саи**Ь a floaty ta b la-y.diutrd with tin* iiayb Scots, tO htlppa?ft tho Ъоу'н rígíilK ifl CíisL* OÍ ii<'C»:î4*i!.V, \í , ¡-i у •„ did í:;;d'd';d ■ Kd í;AÍT í;F «dd.'^T, ÁV,7\l':íl пг jíIMTTANV. 11 i y 'v. v.. \.уи j. у •'; " • . ;м, .-d ír f,iv¿ dîuwîi dy г ,>..•!;. ard ^,íí'.-"í t<» d-'¡d:¡ in v:,;:.<'j^ Cíí-t i.f S". >П!"..'И»<Ь . Arîîs'.sr frli into iHH-d^",- liain!,^. The 1 ivaHiermis Jnb!i, н, 4J); «s".r f'-rniF. bf ^i_-.'d {}}'• íiuv t<» p'H fítiíd in bim л--, a ld';;d '* í'dr-4 ,[fivf пк» iny iídr,.H'Píjr¡/.,. - Kij,j |]íf, lln. d:;rïifed b,,v, tuVfí in: fr-kd'r-jdíum nf i-;n^. "This brítv»: ond-'iHdi"1?;::./^ ^<<'ПГП'.:«н| dolm th.af Ii«' id <гг;г,- <ír.vt'.p">I din- m;;-*-; "í dnsnm;!;dif.it, Id* игф ivd hU raim.udnd: i .■.^•r..;-^ hi the <' *1t>r < ï id;U<;I5, TÎH'I"< Sr»î'îir Wn'î'dïiN Wrt" »'^':*,'П1Ш'Ц,-!-iîli'd !«r l'Ut muí ib* vfutii > yv« ;n;d; ïuufdaîe him m a manner Г'-V'líпуу 1м dr^r-r y,r Idjt, rmford;4;dHy d-r At!:iü¡'.; p;.,.^ » »d^, ïlH-f hi-r W5tf a îd'bb- H!>»I d^lVHvtitiî w.ьЬ« ^,:dd fi.,t c^;tis.!-"!"rid în. di-d d'»î and rr-! Тпмч Pi:íbp 'гапи- u*ArtiHJrV и>ч>:п, and n L";d«dify of а шаг. Пк** di»"l:aî'd < и-иг d<- Ld*?;, !Ь». ^ v^raî í« 'îiîi.-d pla.y- W'r.wu UuÀ ddí-n Even UíJh did wÁ ^ lud- ;iw» ¿Vrf dis p^-hapv4 fíjarhi^ Un: pn-b-fs^íu^K «d Udadard's ' .'aro adt'-rwar-K tfMdsmaíd¡r td-art ni ;dï í laar i )}/)им',]ц>Ь1 Ь * dispafrd t h" p^or ia-1, und. roevivei bíKíUioaHCii biutîa r. dura f4a-''Uaîîd. aftrrvvardv j. K;;d'aUoî«4 t bat tb-y nhould <4lVr a., r<" > ibis »ubl«*. r^pîy, Kim* ЛмЬп, Hdt: <'и«|Ш'Иг-1 a:id d,;d''a/:a«d wn'u чм:,;у< и» <-wn Н1Ыцпт{ pr-.vis.-í a^-; ^ 1 aia а .цхтЛиааагь aff'i umî an oxcouU.»ncr;' i'hiíip Aaeustuö, the wiív king «>í Kraucc, aiul; тыи \ A few days aft.т, J-hn biai.^df, having i-arcti HidiunlK groaí rival." ■ Arthur, tinder \Ы tutelar" f-f Ins faiiliful ' ravonoiïFÏy aad «lrai;k гт.ра .a,-!y, tn drown whaf Tlds naturally iikviw«! llaaiard, aial hr ab- \ {.rnardian, Uw iU.-wi bs ая a«iva:da-" t/r.< o | n vunth (»f Mioh pr^fid-** th.-' -.t- mon worthily _ riH.a'/h" îh . ¡ay d--ilaîa-<" Ua d"-d : afi a,< p,',;i. t}.;- dd?-ia >w* raj-, . ¿ ■', , í:da ;/ a^-da-*: -! its Ua-' «-'araos / i' 'b !dví, a Ha.sî a « 'Ч>< ^ ^ ^ ^ |i(ftda( К ¡ hdds < Г !¡a- í; ,,■»'{ ad. ■d î»v Mie Л- an м-'м and v^aa-- da-u » !,:ivV * u\Hrr^ hi, lafdar d„. *¥ínc fi«-v b.ndy ra., :'u:, • y commenced heggmg тс H5-dd,: pa;vi:a h:'b м-,и d-a.a, aa i ¡ í't\í>í¡ ía'Vrr da\aía' * ',Vi 4 'd'"^ hn'-a i¡ \v,a ¡aiaa-v- а а -л rdi id- p.,,pd- ^' Л-у'.- tina,- ь/labd ;v'.'«'í« d."';,!!': »'>ví';o-,4Í vda'a i<> "aM.ía- an 1 Ь'Пгаа /Иа кнаЬг'" aîa'Ma»; 'ar a a lm liaaaa. ■ l'a-b;^ a aa 1 ¡<;\": ;yaa. oí î i Nd a o.aaaiaaavd t, Л ív. О' -ariiada', a,•-••'"-m d •''•* 'd<> aa--a aa.a? romaiiti àaaad!. î 1 и ¡a'? aad, i ia d4, and a!*'^ r 'î! 1 ;M j -, - aay naad ra aal a íaaaalor ta* lía' ynría»-. *лаа- а. '-а ', *. , и^ у , f,f ;¡ad •• ' »• rn.aaz U, í .a'd'íiíf^ d- ■ i ■ ai ^a. !-,,,a for da' «'¡i'-vaf'^ • " j BOYS OF ENGLAND. the soys or mêims WÈÊÊÈM г, :,о í Та . Í < ,!:. . - -Г •í '.'v. i'-'.aha ,í а;* "■• '■ h-г T И/, • < Jt was im she said.' The. ■■■л asThaa 'м-,ir a ¡,v а !5.гл',. r i-, :., - • :;'Т*а'т а:.Т i;. î!" [ ..aa- ib,a , i il,; ser, at the sam< 'faraíiíg aboui •;,.•„•■; ano h Ш y '!'. , "rv" « .; .' :| ^Au! LuJ/\U..r.[ h: •* ГдГ„ WxiíOT yü,¡: TLu.ei.j лги! í t.»MÍ vo»,,'1 mnr>.ñ; ■уоаа.а, h;«> ii't'i-.f- tíi;! ,.,.f {},<: u ТТал i ИгТоГ. 'ThcTi earn** n a* m!íi*'íl thTr 'oaia rato tbo wnml. it tri*1 "Ьы! j ,.a: i í -i' 'паТ- а í'hs UK'*'" 1 MW-vou wht ru-»!:.* h-. l oiiT i--. íM.b-r ib- а-аа,а?аао! >'оа. , ¡ I I;.*' " Î ni ('Н!ш«.í n-lHT^ H Ли.?'1 ; ** Til а! V '>•*-!' kamva t--> h т«Тг -w?; Tom stop] I T ,tr *«.;«;■ - 1 . ^^-'Т-!" а» ;í ш T аа-о" . huh 'w u.wv ;hT ! -i-'í,' i:' "^1 TíMii Ibm6i-A\ '. wdïu'l for the !ша oí .»»tu, 1 ii:juidn'« iroubk And w.V-s íhr. h • ..u.v f-f 'Ж'; <îoor. oT-n ai lr,lr!;;iV"!í }|i'r- The bat h I Too Ьа<а аа a> aiy MíiM}}i. th- wt-.-i. ~- íí' î*: b.i4 imíh^í irniih 1 Г;'лч,ии lívi:k ^т??/,гм.. T., ,.r. ... bütitur.4.<ш room .íi íUiaXu, aud оЫ А*]*ш l í: Ah% ii^ij, b'-í- «л h.ar all a;>.,:u. ;r" ^.LU üi«>. JÎ!/irt Wbir!n1 «v,¡4; /. :4' íií- 11 .bü.j.r.rv, п»ЬЬ-п- К.-'Пи, !'«f*eai wii»; the cu^íasiuü, 'lour h^u^ ¡ That* vou »hbti; au'i hu-.v 1 te.;] m uíth tue 1;;,"',ll<-(h vwrythi",;/, ílÍ'ísI ^ f ::;'.;а1 laa^b,;,- 5-, j/,:)irly„\\,:\rkvü ЬагЬ.т,'' «va:: «мои »(•;. r.o !;,í.;hi*:. j Vvrl;« vuti uioct know \\1кП i Il-i',. vu'i Ix.:. Ii Д''1' uí »"'н:с% '-'omis aficr иш «low wa« ti;x;.o ' v/чЬ' oí к*.чг#. bi;í i'. a;i ii.^i'v f,,- ti:.- ôao.re :Ьл: °ГГ^» ímñ Тощ ríwb«;ü in, * ola;.: til-; „Ьх^ !0 ! >A o'-, o-úi-, î "••*, ha: f ohíí" up ht н.."Ьг -..-î <:-.). -vu ; >1o.f,... f.n г<1!1(' ¡i, ^ ;ît Ii-1.,' ai>, :aa;ii, 'Uh ;hj' ahah? hyo Uh^i ní v' • uiT ra a % î i: , ^r i . ; \>,hî;;V.;r, и .-!T, -aa rh-n ï an«--a th t« ;>n rî«o.f. f,,r T . nvv.a* 1аа"ата<1 .tnn^f.^- ñ-.- aaHo*th ?i..!l:,a,r f.j.: î íh" pii-d w? -0 Líi'Ú-atv^ut h h,et 7Л"га Fotía i — :..^4a.', aroï чЛ1 — »-»\.rï«t *?.ka =!:¿h taa Ьдг 'л)П'Ь.-а a. fh"'v'.'*- "-t, a. ah ai of a : -[aa-t^hi'.- 1>д"*У ¡ i''.i"h.r'ô .t !?■', h-^a, <.f oaa" [ hâîah laa-.'h aoja};, ■ho, Thaoî w..', a T ■ v,, ,»r í.i-.a¡ t"aa,( ■/ -/'i'«1? :«''■ : al r-ii.'c. î»nt a«' I noto. -1л'.:гкл», -.vif1» Wh; W"Ih. í L'aa4a:c, oí coar,-.'.; í cuahi na: imk*, <«:' -h;;. - ! Ai:-и* ч alaia thíaaa, л>иЬЛ 4wrM aa.-I ih,a. a ■ druver wíio u;ivbrslus.J th*~ au^w-Ky'.. aa;ír'hiOa.ch ; xiiííaa", aiai ц<,: ;чал»)к ha".a.:,. la<: ¿joi-iiati;Vüi ihe *-'о-г,"ц,,г Mir-a ana;,- a-a j аач; ■»•• :a^ a aa ao_ 4*a? oi.< /. t¡^- ioi.c );l0p vre ,(Геп». íjQ r.?wt p;rr.i-j. of c;çan grraw 126 [February I, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. in the barn : tinkers ain't used to sheets, for if they were the impression they would leave behind would be rather a black one. Well, how long we slept I can't say, but all at once I jumps up, for I smells smoke. A tinker's nose ain't easily deceived, and blessed if the old inn warn't on fire, and was laying hold of the barn. The fust thing I did was to catch Mrs. Potts up in my arms, and, perhaps, she didn't kick and scratch and scream, but I didn't mind that a bit, but I puts her in safety. Then I gets Jeru and the cart, and I leaves them in her charge, and then I turns my attention to the inn on fire. I sees the Landlady screaming and wringing her hands, and was told that two children were in the burning house. I was in the thick of it the next moment, and makes my way through it up the stairs, which gave way under me. I rushes into a room, and there, in a bed, I saw the two children screaming and roaring out. I had them up in a moment, and rushed to the window with them. "Sarsepans one !" I bawls out. And away went one into the arms of a man. "Sarsepans two!" And away went the other. And then I makes a jump for sarsepans three, but not in time, for I got a crack on the head from something that sent me reeling out. I lay for at least twenty-four hours before the honest peepers of Tom Potts saw the daylight again, and, of course, the first inquiry I made was for Jera and Mrs. Potts. It was some time before I could understand them; but the honest drover turned it into English, and then I found that Mrs. Potts with Jeru had started off, the Lord knows where. I know I don't, but I could well understand her reason; she thought I kept a lot o' money in the cart, but I laughed in my sleeve when I thought how nicely she would be taken in. Well, thinks I, this is a pretty go. I wouldn't have cared a pin about it only for Jeru and the cart, as I had the old sarsepan. In the first place I didn't like losing the old fellow, because a sort of feeling had sprung up between the two asses. I can't help calling myself one for ever marrying a razor-grin- der's darter; had it been a ratcatcher's, it might have turned out different. [Here the honest old tinker paused, for the little hump-backed man, seated in the corner, let fall his pipe and glass with such a crash as startled them all. He had fallen fast asleep, with his head thrown back, as though he was going to be shaved.] "But have you not heard of the faithful animal since?" "Well, no; I knew it warn't no use tramping after her when she had got twenty-four hours' start, especially at the rato she put Jeru to; so I resolved to make the best way back into England. But the honest drover sajd he'd hunt her up for me, as he was going in the direction they had gone, and he swore that if he came up with them^he'd bring the animal here to me at the ' Hunter's Best.'" "Well, we hope he will, Tom; it is a serious loss to you; but we'll make it up to you." "I think not, genelmen, for although I am only a wandering tinker, I've got the pride of a man in me. Jeru will turn up long afore the old sarsepan's done with." "Well, well, let us hope he will. How did you pick up the man there, eh,- Tom?" "WeU, it was rather a funny affair, sir, but it was on the road,. iir, or, I might say, the tramp. I must confess that never was a tinker so down in the mouth as I was. "I was a sarsepan without a handle—not because of the baggage Pd lost, it was the animal and the implements by which I got an honest living. Well, the poor people whoso children I had saved, wanted ma to have money, and then they wanted me to stop with them for the rest of my days, for the Welsh are a noble, generous-hearted set as ever offered a crust or a cup to a poor man. But I couldn't speak my feelmgs, so, one morning, I walked off, without saying a word to anybody, and took to the road, in the порез of finding poor old Jeru. [Here Tom took a fresh pull which seemed to bring the tears into his eyes.] It never rains, but it pours, and Wales has a sort of rain that is a regular wash np? inside and out; i from the early hour in the morning until the sun 'set did it pour down as though it would have washed the old tinker white. Well, I went along, thinking of Jeru and the cart which. I had lost, when, coming to the end of the long road, I suddenly came upon a mill! and its' dam close upon it; but what made me stare was the sight of a little object standing up | against a milestone, waving a something in the air, and rubbing something upon it. It was the hump-backed barber sharpening his razor upon the milestone. Suddenly he turned round and waved his razor over his head. Then he rushed at me, and pushed me back upon the path; the next moment he had whipped a cloth round me, exclaiming,— "Shave you directly." "Not if I know it, my friend," said I, starting up. But the little cretur* seized me by the throat, and we were having a roll and tumble about when there was a roar as of a mighty rush of waters. The mill-dam had given way with the flood. Away went the barber and the tinker, and where we went for a time neither of us knew; but all I know was that we clung together as tightly as wax sticks to a cobbler's apron. It was not long before I felt a something sticking into me which I think they call a drag. I found out afterwards that a couple of men in a barge had laid hold of us, and prevented us drifting out to sea. The next day the barber and I started off to find our way to the "Hunter's Rest," and of all the drenchings an honest tinker ever had in his life, I think I have had that. At this moment the little hump-backed man caused some surprise by his rising, and looking round the room. "Gentlemen," he said, "and Tom Potts, tinker, especially, I have heard all you have had to say, and in return I say when you catch a weasel—no, I don't mean that. I mean that I have heard the story of Tom Potts." "At your next meeting I wish you would tell us something relating to your own life and ad- ventures," said the Antiquary. "I will, upon the honour of a barber, whose back is not straight and whose head is not clear ; but still I can shave you all round," With this intimation the company separated, glad to see their old friend Tom Potts, and antici- pating a great treat in the story of the Hump- backed Barber. > (Го be continued.)s BILLINGS' ALLMINAX. Josh Billings has hit upon a capital vent for his peculiar humour, in the "Farmers* Allminax," which, we are assured on the title-page, contains "all that iz necessary for an Allminax, and a good deal besides." We select some of the best specimens of its wit and wisdom. There is only one good substitute for the endear- ments of a sister, and that iz the endearments ov sum other phellow's sister. About the hardest thing a phellow kan do, iz tew spark two girls at onst, and preserve a good average. If yu want a true friend, hire him bi the month, and pay him fair wages. Advice tew young Sportsmen.—In fishing for krabs, use yure fingers for bait, you can feel then when they fust bite. Don't fire at a bumble bee on the wing, not till he settles, then take good aim, and knok him endways. In bobbing for eels, use a raw potato ; yu may not bag much eels, but you can bag a bob, that yú kan hand down tew yure ancestors untarnished. Sum sigiins op Infallible Weather.—When roosters are observed before daylite in the morning, soreing amung the klouds, and uttering Iamenta- shuns, then look out for sum sudden weather, and a severe pucker in the money market. When yu see 13 geese, walking injun file, and toeing in, yu can deliberately bet yure last surviv- ing dollar on a hard winter, and a grate fluktuous- ness during the next seazon in the price ov cow hide boots. If pigs squeal in the nite, and grasshoppers come oph ov their perches, and mingle in a free fite, yu may hope for high winds in a few weeks, and also the typus fever in yure naberhood. Words tew Hoüsewifes.—Tew skin a eel, turn him inside out, and remove the meat with a Jack plane. Tew make a hen lay two eggs a day, reazon with her; if that don't do, threaten to chastise her if she don't. Tew learn vure offspring to steal, make them beg hard for all that yu giv them. A lady thought it would look interesting to faint away at a party, when ono of the company began bathing her temples and head with vinegar, upon which she suddenly started up and exclaimed, "For heaven's sake, put nothing on that wül change the colour of my hair 1" A TERRIBLE NIGHT. A TRUE STORY. I am growing old, my readers, and my hair, once so dark and glossy, is now thickly threaded with silver; my eyes, once bright and sparkling, are now somewhat dim ; and my children and grand-children tell me that my memory is failing fast. It maybe so, but, although I cannot always recall events that take place from day to day, I can remember, as well as if it had happened yesterday, a night of terror that I once spent in my home m the wilds of America. It was in the year 1830 that we settled in our home in the lonely wilderness. Ours was the only clearing for a full mile on either side, and the road to my own brother's house was merely a blazed path through a thick pine forest. My husband had let the clearing of his fallow to an Irish family, Burke by name, consisting of six brothers, and, with the exception of the two youngest, a wild, fierce-looking set they were. The eldest of these men, Ulick, was a remarkable- looking man, with just the sort of face and expres- sion one sees in pictures of Italian brigands. Це was not the least like a labouring man in either manners or appearance. His features were strikingly handsome; his eyes, wild and black, gleamed with a most sinister ex- pression; his mouth was hard and cruel. He was a dreadful tyrant, too, and his temper often broke out into such wild gusts of vindictive passion on the most trifling occasion, that scenes of great violence often took place in the shanty, which stood about thirty yards from our house. Ulick often questioned Isabella, our only hired girl, as to whether we had much ready money in the house, and where the silver Avas kept that he sometimes saw being cleaned in the kitchen. It was her opinion that he was a desperate character. I knew little of the world's wickedness in those days, but I felt an instinctive dread of the bold stare which he always gave me if I happened to meet him about the place. Once he sent a message for me to go and see him, as he was very ill. s;" His brother 'Mike brought over the message, and left directly he had given it to me, so I had no chance to ask him what was wrong with Ulick. I made a little custard, which I thought might tempt a sick person to eat, and, tying on my hat, was about to take it over, when Isabella stopped me. "Wait till the master comes in, ma'am. He will take that over, if you cannot spare me." "But, Bella, Ulick is sick, and requested to see me." "Never mind that, ma'am," she replied quietly. "Take my advice, and do not go. I know that man better than you do, and I would almost swear that nothing is the matter with him." From that day my dread of Ulick Burke increased, and I eagerly looked forward to the time when the fallow should be cleared, and the shanty rid of its rough inmates. It was in the month of February that business of an urgent nature obliged my husband to leave home for a town some forty miles distant. We had no man-servant belonging to the house—not even a boy: so Isabella and myself were alone in our lonely dwelling. My brother had not been over for some days, so did not know of my husband's intended journey. All day long, after he left, I felt a strange pre- sentiment of coming evil, which, as night drew in, rather increased than diminished. Never before had the wind sounded so dreary as it did on that February night, as it moaned and sighed through the tall pine-trees, or blew in fitful and angry gusts across the clearing. I would have retired to bed in the hope of sleep- ing off my fears, but my baby was very restless, and I could not get him to sleep. Taking the little man in my arms, I soon suc- ceeded in amusing him and myself also, as in watching his playful wiles I for a time forgot my fears ; but just as I was rising to prepare for bed, I heard the tramping of oxen, and the*loud shouting of the men who had^that day gone to p to bring up stores of pork, whisky, and tobacco. I knew at once, by the harsh words and horrid oaths that fell upon my ear, that the brothers had been drinking freely, and a feeling came into my mind that I would wait tiH all was quiet at the shanty before we ourselves retired for the night. Baby had calmed down nicely, and was lying quietly upon my knee, when, horror of horrors, I happened to raise my eyes in the direction of the window, and saw a face pressed against one of the BOYS OF ENGLAND. 127 FeBEÜAST 1,1870.] panes of glas9, which, even in my wild terror, I re- heard her open the glass door which looked down cognised as belonging to TJiick Uurke, regarding me the garden. with a look of fiendish triumph. I thought that she had forsaken f ■, , . . -и.,* ,„í4.t» j. _„j Í.1..Í. T i íii. I knew enough not to scream, but rising up with a desperate effort, I dragged my trembling limbs into the kitchen. Isabella had her back towards me, so she did not catch sight of my white and ghastly face? and before I had time to tell her anything, the kitchen door opened, and Ulick entered. He closed the door carefully behind him, and, stepping up directly in front of me, he fixed his gleaming eyes upon my face, with an expression which, sent every drop of blood curdling to my heart. I clasped my helpless infant tightly in my arms, and retreated back a step or two. I could not articulate a single word ; a deadly fear took possession of me. Twice I tried to speak, but the sound died away upon my lips. "What brings you here so late, Ulick? The fire is out in the shanty, I reckon, and you're wanting a coal to light it again," said Isabella, with perfect coolness. "The fire is not out," he replied, without remov- ing his eyes from my face ; "but I've come to spend the night with your mistress. 'Tis a lonesome thing for two women to be by themselves in a place like this. Tou might both be murdered, and who would be the wiser?" Then, drawing й chair toward him as he spoke, he sat down,*still watching me with those terrible eyes. Isabella stood behind him, and I соиИ see her, though he could not." She made signs to me not to show such deadly marks of-terror as were visible on my face. "The mistress and myself are obliged to you, Ulick; but did you not know that we expect the master in every minute?" He laughed a low, mocking, scornful laugh. "You may spare your looks, then, for he started for с at noon to-day. It will be some days before you see him again—perhaps never." "Sure," she replied, quickly, "did he not leave them papers that ne waa obliged to take with him—- and he must come back for them. 'Tis for him we are keeping up the big fire; and don't you see the kettle boiling, all ready for his tea?" "Maybe I can spare,'you thettrouble of sitting UD for him." ho said, with an air of ill-disguised triumph. "I went on to P—-, and saw him with my own eyes. He gave me this scrap of paper for her." Here he pointed toward me. "I am not much of a scholar, but I managed to make out by the writing that he had gone on to tho big town on the lake this evening." Every hope of rescue died out of my heart at these words. A faint hope had. clung to me that he would not doubt Isabella's story, and would at once leave the house; but the knowledge he expressed of the contents of my husband's note filled me with terror. I shook and trembled so that I could scarcely stand, while I held my letter unread in my hand. "Ulick, you have been fighting over in the shanty since you came home, have you not?" asked Isabella, quietly. "Yes," he replied, sullenly, "we have. Kelly and Pat have drawn knives more than once this evening, and the boys got at the whisky, and never left a drop. I gave Mike a thrashing that he won't get over in a hurry, and Pat is lying half dead in the shanty, but not by my hand. I did not want to see him hurt, and it will be the worst for the next who touches him." He rose up as he said this, and opened the kitchen door as if to listen, but all seemed quiet, so he shut the door, and instead of sitting down again, he walked up directly in front of me, and once more I encountered tho gaze of those dreadful eyes, "I've a long score to settle with you," he said; "but I kept quiet till the master went away. He is gone at lastj and anger keeps warm with nursing. You are both ш my power now. Do you see that?" He held up a long, bright knife, which, while speak- ing, he had drawn from beneath his coat. "Give me the child 1" At those terrible words, my courage in some degree returned, and, stepping back quickly, I exclaimed— "You surely would not injure my; child, Ulick! You could not hurt my innocent babe I He, at least, has done you no harm; neither have any of us, that I am aware of." I had still kept retreating back, step by. step, as I spoke, and, step by step, he advanced, We had almost reached the parlour door. My baby was in danger of suffocation, owing to the vice- like embrace in which I held. him. Suddenly Isabella ran quickly past me, and I me in my sore i extremity, and that I was alone with a murderer.' I closed my eyes to shut out that dreadful face, while I tried to offer up a brief but earnest prayer for pardon to my God and my Judge for all the sins I had committed against Him. "Ulick, Ulick, for the love of Heaven, run! They are murdering Pat. I hear him screaming for help !" was the entreating words of Isabella, who had been standing at the door all the time. I thought myself alone. Taken completely by surprise, and thoroughly deceived by the girl's violently excited manner, as she stood wringing her hands and crying, "Hun, run, or they will kill him before you get there!" Ulick instantly released his hold of my arm, and, without a word, dashed out of the door m the direc- tion of the shanty. Not a moment was lost. Drawing a heavy chest across the door, which she next fastened by means of a fork slipped under the latch, she then nailed down the windows. I could give her no assistance. I sat crouching over my babe, while my whole frame shook with low, convulsive sobs. "Oh, Isabella," at last I whispered, "what will those frail fastenings avail against that terrible man, when he returns again, enraged at being deceived by you?" "Do you see that door?" she replied, pointing to the glass door. "I do. It is unfastened," was my despairing answer. "Well, I know j it is all the better for you. Now listen to me, mistress. If Ulick Burke returns—and I am almost sure he will do so—leave me to talk to him, and run for your life'over to the shanty, and throw yourself upon his brothers for, protection. There are five of them, and, with ¿he exception*of Pat, they all hate Ulick. Tell- them your danger, and, if I am not mistaken, Tom and Mike and KeUy and John will take your part. 'Tis. your only chance, for he would not spare you." "And what is to become of you, my brave Isa- bella?" "Tam not afraid to die; I have neither husband 1 nor child to fret for me; but I would sell my life dearly to that ruffian," was her calm reply. Oh, what a long, weary night that was, as we sat there, expecting his return. Often did I rise and grasp Isabella's arm in an agony of terror and despair, as I fancied I heard his tread on the door-step, or saw those gleaming eyes peering at us through the window. * The fire went out for want of wood, and we dare not open the door to get a stick for it, so that we were shivering ^vith cold as well as fear before the dawn broke. But a merciful Providence watched over us in our lonely helplessness, for Ulick Burke did not return again. One of the boys came over next day, and Isabella asked him, in a careless way, what they had been about over at the shanty the night before. "Drinking and fighting the first part of the evening; and then Ulick went out, after he had beaten Mike terribly; so we made a vow to be revenged on him, and when he came in again, we all seized him, and bound him down with cords, and then pitched into him. He won't leave his bed for a full month, I can tell you ; but he deserved all he got. We would have given him twice as much, only Pat begged hard for him to be left alone." The mystery of Ulick not returning was now ex- plained, and little did the brothers ever guess that, in revenging themselves, they had, in all human probability, saved the lives of two people. Not daring to spend another night alone, I walked over to my brother's, after breakfast, and he sent one of his men over to sleep at our house till my husband came back. I knew. that, onß ;moxQ'*Month would .finish the chopping, and so great was my dread of Ulick Burke's revengeful temper, that I told neither husband nor brother of my "night of terror'' spent in my first home in America, with no other com- panion than brave Isabella Gordon. *** Original contributions only are required, and must be accompanied byname and address. Any puzzle or charade received after this date, and found to have been copied from other publications, Kill not be inserted, and no further contribution from the same person will be accepted* Ш Puzzle will be accepted unless the Solutions areproperly worked out Numbered Charades in particular must have FULL answers sent with them* I am a word of 10 letters. My 1, 7, 5, 9,10 is a trade; my 4, 7,5,9 is what most people like; my 6, 9, 7 is a river in England; my 2,8,7 Is a grain; my 9, 7,10 is what everybody has; my 4, 6, 7, 8 is dag from tho earth; my 0, 3,9 is a sinful act; my 1,6, 7,4, 5 is used as a colour; and my whole is a workman. DUKE." П. My first is a deed; my second is an animal; and my third is a number. "Duke." in. Whole, I am a number; behead me, and I am the heart of a fruit j behead me again, and I am an unrefined metal; behead me again, and I am an island of France; behead mo once more, and I am a Latin preposition. "DUKE." IV. I am composed of 14 letters. My 11, 8,14, 7 is a refuse; my 11, 8,7,4, 2,6 Is a heap of earth ; my 7,12,14, б is a mark ; my 3,6,11,4 is attrac- tive ; my 1, 2, 9, 7,13,3, is a foreigner; my 3, 4,10, 7 is to persuade, or coax ; my 3, 4, 9,5 is a fast ; my 11, 6,12,14 is a loss ; and my whole is a sickly person. Joseph "Wrigley. v. I am a word of seven letters. My 2, 3,4,5 is a haystack; my 7, 3, 4, 5 is what every watch and clock,does; my 3, 4, G is often seen in winter; my 7, 3,6 is an ornament for the neck; my G, 2, 3, 1 is a man s name ; my 2,3,4, G is an article of food mach" used in India; and my whole is a game of which Englishmen are very food. TnOMAS JOUM STONE. VI. "Whole, I am an insect; behead me, I am a very useful thoughsmall piece of metal; again,and I am sick ; give me another head, and I am part of a ship.*. THOMAS JOHNSTONE. TIL I consist of 2 words—13 letters. My 1, 8,12, 7 is a part of tho body; my 13, 9, 2,12, 7 ÍS to tap loudly; my 13,11,12, 7 is to knock with the foot; my 4, 5,12,8 is a spice ; my 10, 2, 4,8 is a celebrated town in Italy ; my 3,2,12,13 is a hard substance ; my 5, 5, 3, 2, 1 is a Jewish Christian name; my whole is a tale in the Boys op England. WlLLM. F. TRINDER. Till. In an examination before the magistrates of the partners in the late firm of Overend, Gurney and Co., it was stated by an accountant, that the transactions of the firm had amounted in one year to the enormous ыйа of eleven hun- dred millions. Supposing a person had to count out this amount in sovereigns at the rate of sixty each minute, and to work ten hours every day, until the whole was completed, how long would it take him, giving the total number of days, odd hours, minutes, and éccónds, and dividing the days also into years; also estimating 60 sovereigns to weigh one pound, the gross weight in pounds, hundred weights and tons? _ ED. 13L I am composed of 11 letters. My 3,10,9 is a place of repose; my 5,7, 6 is an animal; my 8,4, 7, 9 is a lesson; my 1,2, 6 is an Indian dwelling: my 6,2,11 is haste ; my whole is in, a tale in the Boys op ENGLAND. m _ T. BRAYBRQOK.' X. A fehort sleep ; an interjection; a Jewish doctor; a coat of armour ; a saline substance; a short sleep; opposed to cruelty; the tip of the car; a part of tho face : to make a loud noise ; an ancient tribe of Britons; a monk's hôod ; a token of greeting. The initials and finals read down- wards witt name two splendid tales in the Boys of Eng- land. W. F. Trinder and E. H. Sumner, si. I consist of 12 letters-2 words. My 4,5, 2,6 is a fruit; my 12, 8, 3, 4 is an Insect; my 1, 11,12,10, 6,3 Is the surname of a femalo mentioned in the « Miser's Son ;" my 9, II, 7,5,6 is a marriage "portion; my * of "Philip's Perils," in tho Л man, now a member of Congress, being clerk in a Western country store, once on a time, was asked by a woman if hö had any "ladies' hose." "Yes," said he, and ran to the warehouse and brought her a small-sized hose! We were dining the other day in company with our little nieces, who are brought up very strictly. Mamma detected the youngest in the act of pocket- ing a piece of bread. "What are you doing, miss?" "Oh, mamma, it is so nice and new I I want to keep it." "Keep it?" "Yes, ma, till to-morrow, to eat instead of the stale." whole is a character in the tale с BOYS OP ENGLAND. W. F. Trinder. My first is in cock, but not in hen-; My second is In child, but not in men; My third is in cat, but not-in dog; -, My fourth is in bear, but not in hog i My fifth is in quilt, but not in bed;' My sixth i3 in iron, but not In lead; . My seventh is in grass, but not in moor; My eighth is in rich, but; not in poor; My ninth is in ring, but not in chain; My tenth is in snow, but not in rain; My eleventh is.in salt, but not in pepper; My twelfth is in stamp, but not in letter; And my whole is a station in a large thoroughfare Not far from the lions in Trafalgar Square.' W. J. SUMNER. ISS BOYS OF ENGLAND. [FtEBüABT 1, 1870. XIII. I am a word of 13 letters. My 1,2,3, 7, G is a body of Eoldters; my 6, 7, 8,2,0 is an article used at dinner; my 4,11, 6,3 is repose; my 1,8, 10 is tlie name of a fish; my 7, 2, 9,10 is a piece of water ; my 10, 11,12,13 is the name ef a celebrated watchmaker in London ; my 9, 8, 6, 5 is a part of the face ; my 10, 5, 7,11, 9,10 is to rely ; my 13,11, 9 is a number; my 13, 2,12 is a weight;my 13, 6, 9,10,11, 3 is what a steak should^be; and my whole is a good situation in an office. James Laing. XIV. Whole, I am to be in the saddle ; behead me, I am to take a long step ; doubly behead me, I am mounted ; behead and transpose me, I am the Latin f rfr day; behead me again, I mean "That is." Henry Stewart. XV. A kind of prophetess; a Latin word signifying "t© be loved ;** a reptile; the extremity ;. a celebrated city of Europe; a number; a man's name; one who attends to guns ; an ancient priest of Bible note; an animal; to be- hold. Tho initials downwards name a tale in the Younq Men op Great Britain, and the finals downwards a tale in the Boys op England. W. F. Trinder. XVI. HISTORICAL QUESTION. A queen is detained in prison in defiance of all law. At last she is tried, and condemned to be beheaded. On the day of her execution she is exhorted by the Dean of Peter- borough to recant. She requests him to cease, as she was determined to die in the Roman Catholic faith. She forgives her executioners, then places her head upon the block, which at the second blow is severed from the body. Required the name of the princess, and the person who was the causo of her execution. Henry Stewart. XVII. I am composed of 2 words and 11 letters. My 3, II, G is an animal's retreat; my 10,2,6, 5 is what hundreds are working at daily; my 1, 9, 4,11 is part of the covering of an animal; my lo, 5, Ö Isa common noun; my 1, 2, G, 3 Is an animal ; my 10,11, 0, 3 is a verb; my 8, 2, 4, 11 is what hundreds of people do every day ; my 3,9,4 is a, verb : my 10, 2,0,4 is what very few possess too much of; and my whole is one of the most interesting tales that ever appeared in the Boys op England. S. J. Haycock. XVIII. I am a word of 1G letters, My 14,10, 12 is a river in England; my G, 16, ia, 13,4 is a town in Franco ; my 12,11, 9* G is an island in the Mediter- ranean sea; my 1, 3,3,4 is a very useful material; my G, 16,13, 8 Is a sea In- Asia; my 7, 3, 3, 15 is a small town on tbecoest of Cornwall; my2, 16, 13, 14 is a member of the body; my 5,10,12, 7 :is a part of the foot; and my whole's a tale, in the Boys op England. а. W. Mason. NOTICE TO OUR CONTRIBUTORS. To save contributors the trouble of writing respecting the non~ insertion of their puzzles, tee shall, in future, adopt the plan of naming the month during which time under consideration were received. The following list of " Accepted *' and " De- clined** are Viost received during (he month oj OCTOBER, 18G9. . J 9 Accepted.—T. Bray brook, "W. F. Trinder and E. Н. Sumner, W. J. Sumner, James Laing, Henry Stewart, S. J. Maycock, A. W. Mason, Charles Hicks, E. W. Peermund, MacJohn Venning, Herbert Henderson, W. Veats, One of the Boys, Joseph B. Hammond, William Grove, Robert ■Williams, A. Purry, J. H. Woodcock. Declined.—Donald Grant (no answers), Harold Fur- niss (Imperfect), B. Berry (subject worn out), A. Godwin, (no answers), W. J. Brooks (wants regularity in the measure), Dr. Ayliffe (no detailed answers). THE BOYS OF ENGLAND LIFE-BOAT.. Subscribed to by the Boys of England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales» We* omitted to state in No. 162 of this Journal that the subscriptions there* acknowledged were collected and for- warded to us ЬуМг/О. T. Parker, Market Place, Ash- bourne. Wo hope Mr. Parker will accept our apology for the oversight. Amount last acknowledged, JE282 9s. 3d, Jonathan Grey, Liver- pool.. ..• 4 0 William C. Corbett, Westgate, Kent, and South Kensington (3rd donation) 10 G James Т. O. Chatte».. 1 6 Ernest Broadhurst*... 0 6 "Ointy Nose" (Chelten- ham) 0 1 "Icklda" 0 3 Collected (per card) by Mr. Alexander S. Far- quharson, 16, Rox- burgh Street, Edin- burgh;—A. S.Farqu- harson, le. 6d.; A Friend, 2d..; William Croley, ed.; George Macferson, id.: Thomas Mcnzics, 3d.; Amount received up to Dec. 31, 1869, £283 lis. 5d. A Poor Boy, ^d.; Uncle Sam, 2d.; Burke and Hare, 4|d.; James Brodie, Id.; Charles Lamb, Id.; David Bruce, 3d. ; John Aitchison, Id.; An Old Man, 3d.; Miss Helen, Id.; John Brewster, 2d.; Charlie Stewart, Id.; Katy Poison, Ы.; George Fowlie, Ш.; Tom Daring, 2fd.; Nelly Blie, i£; Elizabeth Ann,lid.; Jane Stewart, 2d.; David Davidson, 4d.; Scot the Bounce, Id !i *** All Communications to be addressed to the Editor* Mn. Edwin J. Beett,173, Fleet Street, E.G. »»* We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal. %* Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correepondcnts in a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. *** Correspondents who wish to receive replies by post must in ail cases send stamped directed envelopes. II. Hart.—War is very expensive, and the late conflict In America proved no exception to the rule. Commissioner Wells, in his report, presented to Congress, gives an estimate of the cost of the war. The Government spent, in war expenses and expenses growing out of the war, down to June 30, Ш9,5,171,914,403 dollars. This excludes what the Administration would have cost had there been no war, and may be called the net cost to the Government of the Rebellion. To this, however, must bo added a number of items which Mr. Wells gives thus: Pensions Capitalised at Eight Years Purchase, 200.000,000 dollars; Increase on State Debts, mainly on War Account, 130,000,000 dollars; County.City, and Town Indebtedness increased on Account of the War. estimated 200,000,000 dollars; expenditures of States, Counties, Cities, and Towns on Account of the War, not Represented by Funded Debt, estimated 000,000,000 dollars; estimated Loss to the Loyal States from the Di- version and Suspension of Industry, and the Reduction of the American Marine and Carrying-Trade, 1,200,000,000 dollars; estimated Direct Expenditures and Loss of Pro- perty by the Confederates States by reason of the War, 2,700,000,000 dollars. This makes a total of loss by the war to the whole country of nine thousand millions of dollars. Fiugutened.—You are not the only person who bas always felt fear at the sight of a perfectly harmless object. The astnte and erudite Erasmus was alarmed at the siaht of an apple. Bayie, the great lexicographer, swooned at noise made by some water as It escaped, drop by drop, from a cock. Henry of France, the third of that name, though he had driven his enemies before him at Jarnac, trembled from head to foot at the sight of a cat. When a haro crossed the celebrated Duke d'Epernon's path, his blood stagnated In his veins. The mascullne-mmded Mary of Medicis fainted away whenever a nosegay was In sight. A shudder overcame the learned Scaliger on perceiving cresses. Ivan the Second, Czar of Muscovy, would faint away on seeing a woman ; and Albert, a brave field-marshal oí France, fell Insensible to the ground, on discovering a sucking-pig served up at his own table! IMPORTANT I A NEW TALE OF SCHOOL LIFE, Surpassing in interest anything we have yet published, WILL COMMENCE NEXT WEEK. This Tale, which has been a long time in preparation, will be entitled, THE KING OF THE SCHOOL; OB, WHO WILL WIN? By the Author of «' Chevy Chase," "Strongbow," &c., &c. Next week1 s Number should be ordered at once. BOBIN HÖOD! ROBIN HOOD 1! Readers, if you want somo fun, do not fail to read ROBIN HOOD AND HIS MERRY MEN, AND THE LARKS THEY PLAYED IN THE GREEN- WOOD SHADE. A FUNNY STORY OP FOREST ADVENTURE. This screamingly comic narrative of the good old times is founded upon lots of fact, and illustrated with numerous humorous drawings taken on the spot, by the Author of "Crusoe the Comic," &c, &c COMMENCES NEXT WEEK. Histobian.—We are able to inform you that the dagger of the celebrated conqueror of Mexico, Cortez, is still in ex- istence. This deadly weapon is of a peculiar construction the handle being of open nligreo wor£ In steel, surmounted by a Spanish crown, with curious steel pendent ornaments within It. The cross-bar, like the rest ot the instrument, is oí polished steel, finished with a crown at either end; and aoove this Is an oblong structure, four inches in length, containing a piece of jnechanlsm by which, on its being pressed, the blade was opened when It entered the wound. The blade, properly so called, springing from this, Is eight Inches long, and opens like a pair of scissors. When thus opened in the wound, a liquid poison, previously placed in a deep groove running down the centre of the blade, would be emitted, causing certain death. This dagger, which is well authenticated, descended from an ancient Mexican family (Alvarez) to the Bishop of Mobile, North America, who deposited it in the museum of tho University of St. Louis, N. A. Jul—Show your sister the following recipe for making French bread or rolls.—Take six pounds of sifted flour, knead it into dough, with two quarts of milk, three- quarters of a pound of warm butter, half-a-pound of yeastv and two ounces of salt : when the whole is well worked up, cover and leave it to rise. In two hours time form it Into rolls, and lay on tinned plates. Place them in a slow oven. When they have been in an hour, put them into a very hot oven for twenty minutes. Hasp them as soon as they arc baked. Sea Güll On board merchant and whaling vessels, the men sleep in that part of the ship known as the forecastle. We believe Dundee and Hull are the principal ports for whaling vessels. д Constant Subscriber (Richmond).—Tho time for tho prize drawing will be prominently announced for three or four weeks before It takes place. 15. King.—We can send you any number of the Journal you require. Two stamps would bo required for a single number. Little Fellow.—We cannot intorm you of any means of making a person grow. NOTICE TO THE NEWS TRADE. Mr. Edwiîî J. Brett's works are published only at 173, Fleet Street. ALL BACK NUMBERS CAN BE HAD. IMPORTANT NOTICE! Ke-lesuo of ALONE IN THE PIKATES' LAIR, With thlg favourite work will bo given, from time to time, Full-Length Portraits oí the principal characters on plate paper. The work will be printed on Toned PAPER, from a New Fount OP Type, and, as the work Is intended for binding, as an ornament to the library shelves, the numbers and date, from week to week,4rill bo printed along the back of the book, instead of on the front page as usual, thereby preventing any disfigurement. NOS. 1 and 2, in a BEAUTIFUL COLOURED WRAPPER With the FIRST OF ТПЕ SERIES OP PORTRAITS, WÍ11 bo published ON MONDAY, JANÜAIÍY 17, PRICE ONE PENNY. Those who desiro to take in this favourite work, should give their orders in advance to their booksellers, as it will be only supplied то order, IMPORTANT TO ALL OUR READERS! omt GRAND CHRISTMAS NUMBER IS RE-PRINTED. The Extra Stories in it surpass anything we have yet produced. No. 10 OP THE GIPSY BOY READY THIS DAY. PRICE ONE PENNY. ALSO PART II., Containing Four Numbers, Price 4d. A SPLENDID CHRISTMAS GIFT! THE SIXTH VOLUME OP THE "BOYS OF ENGLAND," Elegantly bound. Price 4s. PART XXXVII. of the BOYS OP ENGLAND IS NOW READY, Containing THE CHRISTMAS NUMBER. PRICE 6d.; OR, BY POST, 7d. NOTICE TO TEE TRADE. IF COUNTRY NEWSAGENTS Experience any difficulty in procuring from their London Agents any of the following works, viz BOYS OF ENGLAND, YOUNG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, and BOYS OF THE WORLD, They are requested to communicate without delay to the Publisher, at the office, 173, Fleet Street. ALL BACK NUMBERS IN STOCK. NOW PUBLISHING, Ш THE YODfTG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, A Splendid Tale, entitled YOUNG IRON-HEABT; OR, THE WHITE QUEEN OF THE MOHICANS. Everybody should read it. NOW READY, TITLE PAGE AND INDEX TO VOL. VI., PRICE ONE PENNY. SPLENDID COVERS FOR BINDING VOL. VI. OP ТПЕ "BOYS OF ENGLAND," Are Now Ready, Price Is. 3d. NOTICE TO OUR READERS. Our Readers are informed that all Stages fer the Plays Issued by MR. BRETT will bear his autograph, with the following notice pasted on the back :— "Mr. Edwin J. Brett's Stage for the Boys of England, Young Men op Great Britain, and Boys op the World," al . Any Stages that do not bear the above notice are only imitations of his Stages, and our Readers are requested not to purchase them. Printed by Kelly U Co., Steam Machine. Law and General Printers, 15, Gate Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, and published for the Proprietor, Edwin J. Brett, by A. W. Huckett, at the office, 173, Fleet Street, E.G. 130 [Febeüast 1, 1S70. BOYS OF ENGLAND. regalia, which he lighted, and proceeded to smoke with a pretence of enjoyment. "Any of you fellows feel inclined to blow a cloud?" he added, handing his case round the groupt Two or three accepted the offer. By way of introducing this young gentleman to our readers, it will be necessary to observe that his name was Albert Marsham; he лгав the son of a very rich city merchant, and, though not entirely bad by nature, had some faults. He drank quantities of beer after school hours, backed racehorses, and went the pace gaily ; yet, during the hours allotted to study, he was tole- rably steady, though he gained no prizes. His.friends, Burton Templeton, Gcrrard Stan- hope, and George Lascelles, imitated him to a certain extent. "Here comes Charlie Fitzgerald !" suddenly exclaimed the last-named young. gentleman; "and who is that with him?" No one was able to answer the question. Charlie Fitzgerald came forward and shook hands all round. "Who is your friend ?" asked Lascelles. "One of the j oiliest fellows living. His name is Frank Egerton. Frank, let me introduce you to my friends and schoolfellows, Stanhope, Las- celles, Marsham and Templeton." Egerton at once made himself friendly with his future companions. "Here comes Baynes 1" observed one of the party ; and a youth entered the refreshment bar of the railway where all the party were assem- bled. "I don't think I shall like him," whispered Frank Egerton to his friend Fitzgerald. "Why not?" "He looks like a sneak." Fitzgerald smiled as he replied— "He is one, and a bully as well." "He had better not bully me," said Egerton, half clenching his hands. The youth had remarked that Baynes was received on all sides with'far, less cordiality than he had received—a circumstance which he attri- buted correctly to the fact that they all knew his disposition and habits. Baynes ordered a glass of sherry at the bar, muttering something about "low beer-drinking fellows/* *f Do you mean that: observation to apply to me ?" asked Fitzgerald, who, with Egerton and the others, hadf been indulging in some bottled stout. "I mentioned no names," replied the bully. "So much thé better for you," observed Egerton. "Why?" "Because if you had spoken of me in such terms, I should have-" "Hush Г interposed Fitzgerald, in a loud whisper; "don't quarrel here, whatever you may do when you- arrive at Lexicon College.'» For a few moments there was silence, then the door,, of V the refreshment bar was pushed open, and a ragged urchin, some ten or eleven years of age, crept in. "What do you want?" inquired Baynes,* roughly. The dark, blue eyes of the tattered boy almost filled with tears, and his check flushed, at being thus'.abruptly, addressed. For a few moments he seemed unable to speak. Egerton, however, spoke to him more kindly, and then he replied— "I am very hungry, and I can't get anything to eat unless I steal." "Which you know how to do well enough, I'll be bound," said Baynes. "Out of this, you young ruffian, or you'll be robbing some of us." "Shame !" exclaimed Egerton. Baynes, however, took no notice of the ex- clamation, but gave the poor boy a hearty slap on the face, with intent to hasten his de- parture. "You deserve to bo well thrashed," shouted ^ Fitzgerald. 1 "1 should like to know who is able to do it," replied the bully, aiming another blow at his victim, who, however, avoided it, and ran behind Egerton. "I can,]1 said the last-named individual. And, suiting his action to the words, he laid hold of Baynes by the collar of his coat, and with his walking-cane administered a sound castigation, to the great delight of Marsham and the others. The operation was continued for some seconds, till the guard of the train came in and separated them. "Come, genelmen, can't allow no fighting 'ere," observed he. "It's 'gainst the bye-laws; you can settle it when you gets down to the college." "And I wiU settle it with a vengeance," growled Baynes, as he moodily walked away, and ordered another glass of sherry to heal his bruises. "I shall be very happy to give you an oppor- tunity of doing so whenever you please," an- swered Egerton, amid cries of "Bravo! Served him right!" "But let me see," continued Frank, addressing the cause of this dispute. "You said you were hungry. Take this pork-pie and pitch into it." "What a lark it would be to take this young- ster down to Ballsbury !" said Marsham. *' What could we do with him there—or, rather, what could he do?" asked Fitzgerald. "He could make himself useful." "In what way?" "Why, I am going to have a couple of terriers down, and as old Whackley won't let them be kept within the boundaries, I shall want some one to look after them. I'll give him five shil- lings a-week." "He can look after my rabbits, too," observed young Webber, a boy who, for some time past, had devoted himself to the consumption of buns. "That will be five bob more." "What say you, youngster? Will you go? or don't you care to leave your parents?" asked Fitzgerald. "I don't know anything about my parents, sir, and I should be very glad indeed to work for any of you—except" , He glanced timidly at Bayncsrwho was con- soling himself by a flirtation-'with one of, the barmaids. "Never, mind him. I'll see he doesn't hurt you," interposed Egerton. "Have you made up your mind ?" asked Mar- sham . * * You are promised ten shillings a-week for certain, and no doubt you will pick up five, or, perhaps, ten more." "A sovereign—all intone week I" ejaculated the boy. "Yes; isn't it enough?" "Oh, yes, sir—a great deal more than I ever had." "Here, then, get yourself a third-class ticket." As Marsham spoke, he handed the delighted boy a half-sovereign, with which he ran off to the booking-office. "Here's the change, sir—three shillings and a ha'penny; the ticket cost six and 'leven pence ha'penny," said the boy, as he returned. "Keep it," was thcrresponse. The delighted boy thrust- the coins into the pocket of his ragged trousers. "Times up, genelmen," said the guard, thrust- ing his head in at the doorway, "We arc going insyour van, Snooks," observed Lascelles. "It's against the rules, genelmen." "Bother the rules. You must; find room for us." "Any more for the train?" shouted apporter. "Come along, Frank," exclaimed Fitzgerald, and the boys raced along the platform till they reached the guard's break van, into which they leaped. Marsham was last to enter, driving before him in a good-natured way the ragged boy who had been befriended by Egerton.. The guard felt rather inclined to be angry at the presumption of the boy in forcing his way among his betters ; but the state of the case was soon explained to him, and, when he had received one of Marsham's thick regalias, and a drop of brandy from a pocket flask, he so far relented as to smile upon the lad as he sat up in one corner, devouring the pork pie. "What's your name, you young beggar?" asked Lascelles, when the boy began to show signs that his hunger was satisfied. *• Harry, sir." "Harry what?" "Well, sir, they call me Harry Smith, because I used to lodge at old Mother Smith's in Parker Street, but" The boy paused. "Then Smith I suppose is not your real name?" "I think not, sir." "You think not. What do you mean?" "I can just recollect when I was a very little chap, I used to live in a very large, fine house, but I don't remember whereabouts it was?" 'How did you come to leave it?" asked Egerton. "That I can remember very well, sir." "Tell us," exclaimed all the other boys, crowding round him. "Well, gentlemen, I can just remember that one day the nurse took me out into one of the parks, that was when I could walk and speak a little, and I remember as well as if it only happened yesterday, a big soldier came up anil spoke to the nurse, and she put me down on the grass while she was talking to him. I wandered off, and when I looked round after a little time,. I could not see her. "Then I began to cry, and a strange woman came up and asked what was the matter. I told her I wanted to go home, and she said she would take me; but instead of doing so she took me to a low place, where I was stripped of my good clothes and dressed me in rags. "I remained with her a long time, then she used to send me out to sell matches ; if I did not sell a good quantity she would boat me. One day after she had been beating me I ran away, and began to sell matches on my own account; and with that, and holding gentlemen's horses, and one thin¿* and the other, I have managed to get along." "Where have you lived lately ?" asked Lascelles. "Nowhere in particular, sir; I sleep some- times in the park, and sometimes under an arch- way." "Poor little beggar," muttered Marsham. "Well, you won't have to do that again for some time to come." After a ride of about three hours, the train ap- proached Ballsbury. "There's old Lexicon College," said Fitz- gerald, pointing to a large, antique, red-brick building which stood among some trees close by the tall cathedral. Frank Egerton looked rather anxiously at his- future home, and finally came to the conclusion that if the interior; arrangements were as good as the external appearance, it would not be such a very bad place to spend a few months in, A few minutes after the train drew up at the platform, cabs were procured, and the whole party—with the exception of the'ragged boy,, who was instructed to procure a lodging and a cheap suit of clothing—moved off to Lexicon College. But our hero's introduction to that celebrated educational establishment must form the theme of another chapter. CHAPTER II. THE COLLEGE AND THE TOWK. , Lexicon College stood within the precincts and beneath the shadow of the venerable cathedral. f • It was.aJarge place, with a central building, in which the masters resided, ;and two wings for the use of the scholars. , Hv The college had been founded by *a rich clerical dignitary in past ages for the"cdueation' of the cathedral choristers; the presentation to the" chief mastership was in the hands of the dean and chapter, and was always held by one of that v. august body. * '' At thetime Frank Egerton-made his? appear- ance there the post .was rilled by the ?%Reverend John Whackley,-DJ)* awcanon.of-the cathedral, renowned for his orthodox principles, the purity of his Latin,-thesouridness of-hia -logic and his floggings, on which, latter point-the writer can give his testimony without the slightest doubt or hesitation. The door was opened by a footman in livery, February 1,18Í0.J 131 BOYS OF ENGLAND. who was instructed to pay the. cabman and see to the luggage. Fitzgerald then led the way to the study, in which the man of learning was seated. "I am glad to see you again," said the doctor, as the boys entered, holding out his hand to Charlie. "And your friend" "This is Frank Egerton, Doctor Whackley." "Ah, you are welcome. I have heard some- thing of you from your parents, young gentle- man ; they tell me you are rather wild. Is it so?" Frank blushed, and looked down for a moment, then, fixing his eyes full upon the doctor's face, replied— "I am very fond of any kind of fun, sir." "Very good. Now I don't object to fun pro- vided its object is not to annoy or injure anyone. I like to see boys enjoy their youthful flow of spirits, and be fearless of danger; at the same time I strongly discourage recklessness. Your friend, Fitzgerald, will now show you over the place, and introduce you to some of your school- fellows who have already arrived." Both boys then bowed, and were about to leave when the doctor again spoke, "No doubt Fitzgerald will also take you through the town; while so doing I shall feel obliged if he will point out to you certain streets in which I do not allow my pupils to be seen. Any infringement of the rules in that respect will be very severely punished." "Well, what do you think of him?" asked Fitzgerald, when they had left the study. "I fancy-that if he would grow a moustache, and wear spurs, he would make a first-rate officer of dragoons." "Why?" "Because h eis so awfully straightforward and determined. He would no more allow the enemy to infringe upon his rules than ourselves. Show mc round, Fitz." Fitzgerald conducted him over the central building and the riiiht wing. "Let us have a look over the other side," said Frank, when he had seen his own sleeping apartment, the class rooms, and various other objects of interest. "You had better wait a day or two till all our fellows are here." "For what reason?" "That is Nightingale Grove." "What a queer name! Why is it called so?" "That's where the singing-birds stay." "What singing-birds? Explain yourself." "The'singing-birds are the choristers. There are always forty boys from the town boarded and educated free in that part of the building; twenty-four of them are choristers in the cathedral, and the others are training to take the vacancies that occur when some of the elder ones retire." "But is that any reason why we should not go there.?" "Yes. They are too many for us now. Our fellows hate the nightingales, and we very often have rows with them. Here comes a nightingale." "Where?" "Coming from the cathedral door. That fellow with the snuff-coloured jacket, and the big white frill round his neck, making him look as if he carried his head in a dish." Egerton saw a boy approaching whose costume was as Fitzgerald had described it, with the addition of a mortar-board cap. As he came up, Egerton began to whistle a bad imitation of the notes of the nightingale. He of the snuff-coloured jacket flushed up, clenched his fist, and said, "Wait till I get a few of our fellows together, you'll learn to whistle another tune." "Can't you teach me?" responded Fitzgerald. "You must bo very bad musicians in your wing if it takes a dozen to teach a pupil." The nightingale, however, залу that his natural enemies were too strong for him, so he walked on. "Let us take a stroll in the town," suggested Fitzgerald. *« I'll show you about the place." "With all my heart." They had not walked twenty yards from the ßchool, as it was generally called, when tbey became aware of a dashing-looking youth, on a more than half-bred horse, cantering up. The cavalier reined in his steed as soon as he saw our two friends, exclaiming— "Ah, Fitzgerald; glad to see you, old boy. Who's your friend?" "One whom you will be pleased to know ; a gentleman after your own heart. Spouts Greek like Porson, and mills like Tom Sa} ers. I have very great pleasure in being the means of intro- ducing the Earl of Pcmbridge to my friend Francis Egerton, Esquire, of Mount Grange, Suffolk, and Hill Street, Berkeley Square; and now, perhaps, your lordship will condescend to extend a fin to a poor commoner." "With all the pleasure in life, Fitz ; but where are you going?" asked the young earl, i "For a stroll round the town." '"lam with you, then; I'll leave Mercury at the * Red Lion' stables. Do you know Bayncs has arrived?" "We came down with him," said Egerton. "And he is not the least bit improved. Do you know I saw him, with his friend Crawley and another, tormenting a poor boy as I came down the High Street?" Fitzgerald and Egerton looked at each other. "Our young friend," said Frank. "No; only a poor chap. He looked as if he had no friends about this part of the country." "We brought him with us from town. Baynes gave him a blow, for which he received a good thrashing." "From whom ?" asked the earl. "Our friend Egerton." "Hurrah 1 I am glad the fellow has found his master at last." "It was only a caning affair; the fight has yet to come." "That's not quite so rosy-looking. Can you fight, Egerton?" "Pretty well," replied Frank. "When I was at a private tutor's, I used to practise with the gloves for nearly an hour every day with the grooms at some livery stables." "Baynes is very clever with his fists, and you'll be obliged to fight ; so mind what you are about." By this time they had passed through a gate, over which stood a statue of King James I., and were in the High Street of the town. The Earl of Pembridge conducted them up a turning on the right hand side, and left his horse at some stables. While he was so doing, Egerton heard shouts at some distance, and looking, saw his young protège* surrounded by a dozen or more town boys, who were urged on by Baynes, and' two or three other gentlemen from the college, to pelt the poor London outcast-with stones and mud. Egerton, Fitzgerald and the Earl of Pem- bridge rushed forward, and, after a brief skirmish, succeeded in rescuing the boy. The first-named then turned to Baynes. "Arc you not ashamed of yourself ?" he said. "I am not; but I shall be if I'submit to any more of your impertinence. I shall be in the old chalk-pit at three o'clock to-morrow after- noon if you dare to meet me there. Any of your friends will show you the way." "I will find the way, and be in time." The two parties then separated. Crawley exclaimed to his friend Baynes, as they walked down the street— "That new fellow must be taken down, or he will make himself King of the School 1" "He shall not while I have either strength or cunning left. I mean to lick him into a sense i of his proper position to-morrow." "Quite right." They walked on in silence for some time, till they reached a tobacco shop, over which hung a red lamp. "Do you play billiards, Crawley?" asked Baynes. "No." "Well, come in here and Г11 teach you. He walked through the shop, pushed open a green baize-covered door, and ushered his com- panion into a large room, lighted at the top, in which stood two billiard tables. Hound the room stood racks for cues, and all the usual furniture found in such places. Both tables were occupied, so Baynes and his companion were compelled to look on while others played. While so engaged a tall, bushy-whiskered individual, buttoned up to the chin in a frock- coat, and carrying in his hand a riding-whip, entered the room. Baynes flushed slightly when he saw the man enter. Don Whiskerandos, after a quiet glance round the room, went up to the schoolboyand held out his hand. "Glad to see you again, Mr. Baynes," said he; "we have been very quiet since- you gents went away—haven't we, Chalky?" The last question was addressed to the marker, who responded— "Blooming dead and alive, I can tell ycr, Mr. Bayncs. Twenty-four—eighteen; no can- non," he continued, as he scored the game. - "By the bye," continued the whiskered indi- vidual, still addressing his conversation to Bayncs, " you remember—" His voice became so indistinct that no one else in the room could hear what he was saying. "I could not, Captain Robinson," replied Baynes. '* Nonsense 1 You could do the one thing easy enough; you ought to have done t'other. A chap like you, as has got plenty of tin, should never say, ' I couldn't.'" The ungrammatical, though forcible, argu- ments of the captain, as he was by courtesy styled, produced very little effect upon Baynes, who turned away to watch the play, "Now, look here, I ain't goin' to be treated like this. Do you know what your character,in the school would be worth if I was to write to Dr. Whackley?" "About as much as your commission in the array would sell for," replied Baynes. "But what if I should take it into my nut to write home to your pa 1" The youth first flushed red, then turned pale as ashes. "Ha, ha 1 now I know the soft point," con- tinued the captain. 44 Don't want your pa to know, eh! Afraid he'll stop the dividends I Ha, ha! Master Baynes, полу will you do as I politely request?" "You really must wait a little time—a week or two. I can't ask the governor—" The remainder of the sentence was heard only by the captain. "To-day is Monday; I can wait till Friday.'* "But I dare not ask my father for at least a month." "What am I to do in the meantime, Mr, Baynes?" "I don't know." "I know how we might both make a good pot of money," said the captain,- again sinking his voice to a whisper. "How?" "Come here; it won't do to let everyone hear." The so-styled captain led Baynes into a recess;-, and for some time was engaged in a whispered conversation with him. When at length they turned once more towards the players, the schoolboy's faco was- very pale, and big drops of perspiration stood upon his brow. "I dare not,?-* he said, in answer to the cap- tain's proposition. "I never thought as you was a coward,"*-re- sponded Robinson.. "Nor am I." "You are, or you wouldn't make such a fuss- about a little bit of" .' "Hush 1 Let me have time to think it over. I will see you again to-morrow night." "Very well. Only if I don't sec you 1 shall consider that it is all right for this day ?m?7i." The conversation then turned upon the game, which, according to the marker's showing, stood at forty against forty-three. The highest scorer was about to make another stroke, and, the balls being in a very easy posi- tion, would probably have scored, when his opponent winked at the captain, who repeated the signal to Chalky the marker. Listen to the consequences. Just as the player was in the act of making his stroke, Chalky managed to let fall the rest 134 ÇFSBBUASY 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. STRANGE CAREER; OR, THE FORGER'S VICTIM. CHAPTER XYL—(continued.) E opened the door hurriedly, and there, standing before the window, was the pretty face and form of Cissy, her figure more developed, and her delicate flowing golden hair appearing richer and thicker. She uttered a faint scream as Oscar appeared, and ap- peared as though about to faint. My darling Cissy!" he ex- "Cissy! Cissy! claimed. "Do you not know me?" She began to cry, as she said— "Oh, yes; but I never expected to see you again. They told me it was wrong for me to know you. They made me very unhappy." "Don't say you've been always unhappy since Is your name still as it was? Are you still Cissy Armitage?" "Yes," she faintly murmured. "Thank God! Thank God! Then, Cissy, we will renew our old relationship to each other. The promise I made shall be fulfilled, and in a little time I will make you my wife!" cried Oscar. And he seized her in his arms and kissed her. "Tell me, Cissy, why you ran away." "It was not my fault. My life was miserable without you, but Joe said he was afraid you were not honest." "Indeed 1" "He said you would soon get tired of me, ►and then you would treat me cruelly." "Did you believe that, Cissy?" "I did once." "But you don't now?" "No I" she answered, firmly and decisively. "Then you did not go to Australia, I sup- pose ?" asked Oscar. «* No, that was only intended to deceive you, and I felt so ill by what they told me, that I let them do as they Hked." "What has become of Martin? I have an ac- count to settle with him if ever we meet." Cissy shuddered, and said— "That will never be—he's dead." "When did he die?" asked Oscar, very much pleased to know that he was relieved from his interference. "He was hung !" gasped Cissy. "Good Heavens! What for!" "Murder and robbery. He was a great villain." At this moment there was a footstep on the stair, and the next minute Joe entered the! room.! "Cis, IVo brought you some radishes for tea," he began, before 1щ caught sight of Oscar, but, when-he did so, his countenance fell, and he dropped into a chair. "Well, I'm blowed," he said, in a mournful Toice, "my troubles never will be over." "I hope you're not sorry at seeing me, Joe!" said" Oscar. V "Well, I ain't no ways particular pleased. •GcnTmen like you,,as pretends to love poor girls, xiin't to be trusted," « You may trust me, Joe," said Oscar, taking his rather unwilling hand. "It's now more than a year since we first met, and, though you took her away to avoid me, I've found her, and still offer her my name and a home—marriage." Joe shook his head doubtfully. "Look here, Joe ; judge me by my actions. I am now rich. I will set you up in any business you like." "Don't think I'm a*going to sell my sister," cried Joe, indignantly, "No, no, but hear me. Cissy Bhall go to school for twelvemonths, and you shall choose what lady you like to take care of her, and to advise her what to do." "Well, that looks on the square," said Joe, scratching his head with delight. "And you'll make Cis a lady?" Oscar smiled. "Well," said Joe, "that'll be stunning for Cis; but what shall I do when she is gone? Her kind, smiling face is better than the sun a shinin' on me, and, if I don't see it, I shall be miserable. What do you say, Cis?" Cissy looked at him affectionately, with her eyes dimmed with tears, but they were tears of joy. "But you must have a home of your own soon." "Well, ain't I got a home? This is it." "I mean a wife." Joe stared in surprise, and exclaimed— "I never thought of that. Cis and me has always lived together ever since we was little 'uns, and it seemed to me as though we always ought to live together." At that moment Lucy came downstairs again, and entered the room. Cissy ran to her and gave her a kiss. "Oh, Lucy, I am so happy." "Well, you all look happy," said Lucy, laugh- ing, " Joe and the gentleman as well." In broken sentences, Lucy heard of Oscar's proposal, and was pleased so say it was "cer- tainly strictly honourable." After a little while, Oscar persuaded Cissy and her friend Lucy to go with him for a trip down the river. Joe consented to this solely on Lucy's under- taking to take care of Cissy. "Then to-morrow," said Oscar, "I shall call, and you will let me see the gentleman you work for, Joe, so that I can let him know our arrange- ments." Good-bye, sir. Lucy, take care of "Yes, sir. my sister." CHAPTER XVII. PENDLE AND HIS SPY. Me. Pendle sat with his head resting on his hand, and his elbow on the table. He was looking at the empty grate, and the twinkling of his half-shut eyes, and the grin which distorted his features, plainly showed that he had heard something which pleased and amused him. He was not alone. His companion was coarse-featured fellow, shabbily dressed, and the way in which he wriggled about on the edge of his chair, and his general awkward manner, showed that he was not exactly at his ease in Pendle's company. Yet at times there was an expression of ferocity and cunning in his eyes which strangely belied this apparent nervousness., I The eyes of this man were remarkable. They were very large, and he so managed to twist them about that he saw the floor, the ceiling, and on each side of him without turning his head. His jaw was dropped yet his mouth was shut, and this gave to his features a peculiar elongated form. Though different in appearance to what he has been previously described, it was no other than our old acquaintance, Hatton. But he was now down in the world. The blocking up of the Roman vault had been the first of a series of hard blows, that had com- pelled him at last to submit to the iron pressure of Pendle's fingers; he had essayed to retrieve the blow, and, by working harder, to recompense himself for the loss he had sustained. But fate and the police were against him. He heard by accident that a search-warrant was in the hands of an active constable, and had barely time to destroy all that might be brought in evidence against him, than it was put in exe- cution. Of course he so far escaped, but he was a marked man, but being good at disguises, he had so altered his dress and manner that he was quite unrecognisable. And to throw the police more effectually off his track, he had changed his name, and was now called Barney. "You're sure it was him ?" asked Pendle. <£ Quite sure, master." "Where did you see him?" "Met him going down Holborn, and traced him across Carey Street to Bell Yard, and up a court into a house." "How long did he stay there?" "Couple o' hours perhaps." "Well?" "After that, he came out, and he'd got two gals with him." "Girls !—Barbara?" asked Pendle, eagerly, with more passion and feeling than one would fancy could exist in his cold, cynical breast. "No." "Ah, I shall never find her again. Something tells me so. Do you think, Barney, he knows anything about her?" "Can't say, sir." "Proceed. Where did they go to?" "Well, as I was a saying, sir, he come out o' that court with two gals, one a rcg'lar beauty, sir; golden hair like a angel's, and a face so soft and smiling, that it warms your heart to look on it." "And what was the other girl like?" "Why, she wasn't a patch on the other. She was a ordinary gal." "Where did they go?" "Well, they took a boat at the Temple Pier, and so did I, and then they got off at Gravesend and dined, and then they went to Springhead, and then they come back and took the boat, and I came up in the same boat." "Well?" "On the boat coming back it was rather dark, so I managed to get along side on 'em. You know the seats as you set back to back on, up the middle of the boat? Well, they set one side and I set the other. He kept on calling the pretty 'un Siss." "Cecelia, I suppose her name is," said Pendle, "and the other one Lucy." "It seems he's a sticking up to the pretty 'un, for I heard him call her darling, and say that he would bring her a phseton, for he was rich." "Rich 1" and Pendle laughed. "Why he's not worth a threepenny-bit." "Well, I heard him say he'd got over £40,000. He told the pretty 'un so, and she began to cry 'cos she said the richer he was the greater gulf there was between 'em." "Hang the 'pretty 'un,' as you call her. Don't prate so much about her. You say he said he had £40,000?" "Yes." "Stuff!" said Pendle; « unless You are sure, Hatton—Barney, I should say—that you had the whole of the Prussian notes from him that night?" "Certain; for I turned every pocket out." Pendle smiled, and asked— "What more?" "Why, it seems as how he's a goin* to put the pretty 'un to school, so that she may learn to be a lady, and then they are to be married." "Did you manage to learn what the girl's name was?" "Well, he called her once Miss Armitage. He got talking a good deal about Arctic regions, and Í think he's been there all this time." "And when they left the boat?" said Pendle, interrogatively- "When they left the boat," continued Barney, "they went straight off to Bell Yard, and into the same house." "Does he live there?" asked Pendle. "No. He was in there about an hour, and then went off." "To where?" "To a house in University Street." "And that's all you know of him?" asked Pendle. "Yes, sir, that's all at present." Pendle sat thinking in silence for some minutes and at last said— "Barney, you must keep your eye on that fellow, I must know all that he does. He knows too much of my affairs to remain at liberty." "Shall I quiet him, sir?" asked Barney, with a hoarse chuckle. "No—not at present. I must learn more of him first." "Well, then, suppose we put him in a quiet lodging, sir." "Well, that's what we tried once*before, Barney." FEBHOABT 1, 1870. J 135 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "I know, sir; but then, sir, who'd have' thought of him a clambering up the chimney. We can find plenty o' rooms without chimneys. You only say the word, and I'll have him caged, sir." "Not at present, Barney." "AU right, sir, then I'll be going." "Watch him well and see what he does and where he goes to/' "AHright, sir." And Barney rose claimed, "Oh, I forgot, sir, to go, but suddenly ex- Funds is low." « That's what you always say, Barney," said Pendle, with a dark frown. « Well, sir, you know I spent a pretty penny a tracing this 'ere chap." "You spend a great deal^too much. You know, Barney, we may buy gold too dear." "Yes, sir, in course, sir ; but life and., liberty are worth a trifle, .ain't they? And so is secret." Pendle jumped'др from his seat like a pan- ther; and, with-tflushed face, .stood staring at Barney ; his eyes , glittered as if .they belonged to .a beast of prey, smd.the threatening scowl on his features was terrible to see ; yet Barney did not flinch, but, with his large rolling eyes and long face, might have been looking at a statue rather than the infuriated man .before him, so little emotion did he exhibit.' "Curse you, you vile ^wretch, what do you mean?" cried Pendle, shaking with rage. "Don't be excited,: sir. We're quite alone. We can open our minds to one another, sir," said Barney, with a grin. "You dissembling wretch Î" said Pendle, "to suddenly twit me in this *way. Didn't I pick you up out of the gutter and make you what you are?" "It was very kind o' you to pick me up¿ replied Barney; "but I might have laid there for ever, if you had no use for me." "And what have I made you ?" asked Pendle, "A reg'lar villain, sir; and I knows I'm credit to yer. A fellow as is up to every mortal thing, and it's cos o' that that I asks for more money." "More money?" said Pendle, incredulously. "Yes, sir; my tastes has got more expensive. "Almost her last request was, that I would1 acquaint you with her decease, and tell you that, although she had discovered that the authority you claimed over her as your child was un- founded, and she believed that her parents had suffered at your hands, you had, nevertheless, been kind to her. She also begged that, unless in self-defence I would not make any attempts to seek reparation for the injury you have in- flicted on me. "The keeping of this vow depends on your- self. "I have in my possession numerous docu- ments, which I shall be careful to retain. They contain all that is necessary to prove the identity ¡ of Barbara Pendle with Barbara Weston; and though she, poor girl, is sleeping in the depths of the Arctic ocean, I have a strong conviction that her mother still lives. "Moreover, independent of the secrets of the vault, I know much of your inner life, and sus- pect much more. "Old Nixon is missing. I have reason to know that he visited you. He is too harmless to excite your vengeance, but he may have created fear. "Let his re-appearance be a sign that your hostility has ceased. "You can satisfy yourself as to the validity of the marriage, and the genuineness of the will, by applying to the solicitor who had charge of Barbara's. affairs." The effect of this letter on Pendle was extra- ordinary. The first few words paralysed him, and when he came to the part relating to Bar- bara's death, the paper fell from his hands, and he uttered a groan so deep that it seemed to come from the inmost recesses of 7his heart, showing that, amid all his crimes, there was just one green-snot left. The remainder of the letter was studied word by word, and his countenance paled and his lips closed as he read the threat implied. He felt half tempted to let things remain as they were, to recall Hatton from his mission; but—old Nixon—he could not restore him! So he sat down and thought. Presently his features brightened, and he said, "That will do. To-morrow I will set to work, I shall not feel safe while he lives I" 'casionally move in a higher circle o' life than I used to." "How much do you want?" "Well, say five or ten quid; that'll do at present." Pendle gave the fellow five sovereigns, say- ing— ** Now, Barney, listen to me. You really must be more economical. Things are not so bright as they wore." "We wants another Abraham to burk, "For Heaven's sake hold your babbling tongue I Have you been drinking?" "Well, no ; not to any partick'lar extent." "Well, go; and be wiser if you can. Good- night!" "Good-night, sir." And Barney left the chamber and then turned round and looked towards the room he had just left. He doubled both fists with a threatening ges-' ture, saying in a low voice— "If I only dared." Pendle, after Barney's exit, sat thinking over what had occurred. His features wore an expression of anxiety. At last he said— "Tools become dangerous sometimes, especially when they are too sharp. That Hatton has be- come a babbling idiot. Necessity compels. Yes, Hatton, thy days must be numbered I Like the fool Martin, he remembers too much, and forgets too little." A knock at the door broke his meditations, and Maria entered with a letter. Pendle glanced at the writing of the address, and his features lighted up with joy. He waved Maria from the room, tore open the letter, and greedily perused its contents. It was from Oscar, and, after recounting tho events that had led to the marriage and un- timely death of Barbara, and the previous willing over of all her property to himself, con- cluded as follows :— CHAPTEK XVIII. LINDEN LODGE. Oscab's union with Barbara had been brought about more by sympathy than true affection. Cissy had absorbed all he was capable of be- stowing. He thought of her often, but as one lost to him, and the unexpected meeting with her had brought the old love out in full force. He had seen Joe's master, Mr. Mortimer, and explained the state of affairs to him, and it was ultimately arranged that Joe should become junior partner in his business, and that Cissy should remain in Mr. Mortimer's house until Oscar had bought and furnished a home, Cissy, j in the meantime, to undergo a course of educa- i ¡ tional training, in order to fit her for the position she was about to occupy. On the green banks of the Thames, Oscar bought a villa, called Linden Lodge, for his residence. It was a little above Teddington lock, where the smooth waters roll slowly and silently down on their long journey towards the sea, un- disturbed by the rude tide, which is effectually held in check by the immense timbers of the weir and the ponderous gates of the lock. It was a red-brick house, and on the furniture and decorations Oscar had not spared his money. One of the rooms intended especially for Cissy was on the ground floor, the bow window looking down the lawn and across the Thames. It was furnished elegantly. The lawn leading down to the river was tastefully sprinkled with flower beds. On one side was a long conservatory, and on the other side was an aviary, where a number of canaries hopped about in joyous melody. The domestics consisted of Mr. and Mrs, Liversidge, the former as gardener, and the latter as housekeeper. The lady herself was the dominant spirit. Two maid-servante and a boy made up the compliment of the household. It was a fine sultry, autumn afternoon, and Mr. and Mrs. Liversidge availed themselves of their position as head of the household to sit on the lawn in front of the river, the one smoking his pipe, and the other busy knitting. "It's a nice place," said Liversidge. He was a small man with a pale face, and little black eyes. "A nice place I Of course it is," said his wife, in a tone of voice which plainly showed she thought the observation absurd and un- necessary. "It is a lucky thing I saw the advertisement," said the husband. "You saw the advertisement 1" replied his wife. "What.is there in seeing an advertise- ment? Any simpleton can do that. It's the energy, and spirit, and brain that's to be thanked. Who answered the advertisement? Who sat up all one night writing a catalogue of our merits and good qualities? Who saw Mr. Merivalc, and, what the letter had began, finished and clenched? I did. I've been the moving mind in everything that's turned out to our advan- tage." The man smoked his pipe in silence. He .knew he was on the wrong tack. "Mr. Merivalc's rather young, Mary." "Of course he is. Any one can. see that," answered his wife, pertly. "I suppose he will marry." "All young men do. You know that very well, Liversidge." . "And he is coming down here to-night, isn't he?" "Didn't I read the letter?" At this moment the bell rang, and one of the servants opened the gate. It was Oscar and Cissy. This was the first time she had seen Linden Lodge. She was simply, but neatly dressed, and the healthy tinge of colour, and the supreme happiness which shone from her large blue eyes, made the girl who opened the gate stare at her new mistress with rude admiration and surprise. "Is Mrs. Liversidge within?" asked Oscar. "Yes, sir," "Tell her to come into the drawing-room ; I am going there. I want to speak to her." Oscar led the way into the house. N Cissy's expressions of rapture and joy as she beheld the magnificent furniture, and knew it was to be her future home, filled him with de- light. When he led her into the room which he had especially fitted up as her retreat, her heart was full to overflowing, and she murmured words of gratitude. "We shall be happy, shall we not. Cissy?" he said. "Oh, yes, Oscar; I once was commanded to doubt you, but never shall I do so again." Mrs. Liversidge entered the room, and, al- though she was much struck with Cissy's beauty, yet she looked upon her with dislike. "Mrs. Liversidge," said Oscar, "this lady will one day be your mistress." The housekeeper bowed; it was a stiff, almost inflexible, bob. Oscar frowned when he saw this, for he had acquired the art of seeing what people thought without waiting for their words. "Be seated, Mrs. Liversidge. Have you no- thing to say? Don't you congratulate me upon the choice I have made?" "Beally, sir, I was so taken aback,, that" "Nonsense! you're not often taken aback. This young lady, Miss Armitage,1 will remain here a few days. You can make my bed-room comfortable for her to-night" « Sir!" "I am going to sleep in London, but every day I shall come down here. I have business to finish in London, and in about a fortnight I believe we are to be married. Now, Mrs. Liversidge, how's the garden going on?" asked Oscar. "The garden is in very good order, sir. You can see it and judge for yourself." A servant brought m some tea and a fine assortment of fruit. Cissy was too full of joy to eat; she took a spoonful of cream, and played , with a nectarine, 138 [February 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. A hurried conference was now held as to what was best to be done. Ned Summers was sure the vessel had no sail on, but was running with bare poles before the wind, so that by morning it would not have gone far. Had the sea not been so heavy, and the wind so high, he would have proposed following in her track. This, in the darkness, however, was out of the luestion, and so there was nothing for it but to wait. CHAPTER XXVI.! THE DEKELICT AND WHAT BECAME OF IT. Never was dawn of morn watched for more anxiously. The three boys cowered on the deck, despite the stiff norther, their eyes strained in the direc- tion where the ship had disappeared. For some time the bell was still heard ; gradu- ally, however, its sound became fainter and fainter until it was lost altogether. As the dawn approached, and the sun's benefi- cent rays made themselves felt, the clouds were rent in twain, the dense sea-fog was dispersed, and the wind even began to lull. Ned Summers swept the horizon, and suddenly announced, amid breathless excitement, that Jbe could once more see the ship. AU hands at once out with the reefs, and every effort was made to get. sail on the gallant boat, which ten minutes later was bending to a stiff but steady breeze, and heading for the vessel, which Ned declared to be a large three- master. But suddenly his eyes dilated, just as the faint, afar-off tinkle of the bell was heard,* and the vessel rose steadily to view. It was without sail, and not a living soul was to be seen. Ned scanned the rigging, the poop deck, the forecastle. Not a living being. "What can it mean ?" thought Ned, frowning darkly, as a terrible series of ideas rushed upon his excited and heated brain. He had a strong suspicion. This was some handiwork of the pirates, he firmly believed. Still he was determined to unravel the mystery. The huge and apparently deserted vessel was not a mile distant. It waddled through the water, swaying now a little to larboard, now to starboard, and yet never wholly swerving from her course. No human hand was at that helm he now well knew. An awesome silence fell upon the three boys, who never once took their eyes off the ship. Presently they were within a hundred yards of the strange vessel. Ned began decreasing sail. "Harry, you be boat-keeper," said Ned, with a significant look at Fred; "we will go on board and see what's what." "There is some danger?" urged Harry. "No; only, perhaps, some horror. Nothing living is on board that ship," replied Ned. Harry Thornton shuddered, and made no further remark. In two minutes more they were grating alongside the vessel, and Ned made fast the painter. He then ran up the ladder which hung from the starboard gangway. As his foot touched the deck, he uttered a fearful cry of horror, which was reiterated by Fred. On every side were signs of a murderous con- fiict,/thc deck having at least a dozen corpses lying about. The helm was lashed amidships. The state of the bodies indicated that the con- flict had been recent, and probably interrupted by the fierce gale. "Follow," said Ned, in a low tone. • The progress of sound over water with tho -wind, is something wonderful. The writer, in the Gulph of Mexico, has often heard the voices oí men in distant boats on a calm day, long before the boats could be seen with tho naked eye. To a certain extent, the same is true on level plains and on the prairies. And he led the way into the cabin. Here lay other bodies, two of whom, from their costume, evidently were pirates. Ned looked around. The lockers were untouched, some valuables lay about, and it was clear that, as he expected, the pirates had been forced, by a sudden squall, to leave the ship. "Let us away 1" gasped Fred. "One moment 1 The ship is a derelict, and may contain things useful to us," cried Ned— "powder and shot, above all." As he spoke, he picked up a large flask which lay on the ground. He then entered the steward's pantry, and secured several bottles of wine and spirits. I For about twenty minutes the boys were busily engaged removing useful stores. They were handed down to Harry, without a ■ word being said about the bodies. | Soon they had secured sufficient plunder, without overloading their craft, and prepared to leave the horrid scene of carnage. j "I should like to bury them as sailors wish to be buried," said Ned. "We cannot do it. Heavens I" cried Fred, pointing to the westward. Ned leaped on a gun, of which .there were six on each side. A fleet of Indians, some hundred in number, were close on board; that is, about a quarter of a mile distant. Simple flight was impossible, as their canoes can go in the wind's eye. "We must scatter and disperse them," said Ned; "let us load the cannons. Without a moment's delay, he snatched up a¡ rammer, and, drawing back a gun by ihe.slings,: he thrust in the instrument used in loading. The gun was loaded. It proved on examination that the starboard broadside had alone been fired. The larboard battery was, luckily, on the side of the savages, who came up in one cluster. So many boats must, of course, make a long line. "To the helm Г shouted Ned. "Keep her steady—don't let her swerve an inch when I speak. A little more to starboard—so—keep her so." And with a bit of lighted rope, which he easily ignited in the cook's galley, he ran from one gun to the other. Six successive reports followed, and a perfect storm, as of iron hail, was poured upon the Indians. An awful and fearful shout arose from the infuriated savages, who thought the ship de- serted, and who expected a fine prize of iron and wood, and other useful articles. u Now for a race," shouted Ned; "while they are in confusion we may escape." "Sail, oh !" shouted Fred. Ned turned, and there, not three miles distant, was the pirate coming down upon the derelict. The storm having abated, they were coming back to complete their work of plunder and destruction. Without a word the boys ran down the side and pushed off. Both the pirate brigantine and tho Indian canoes were thus hidden from view, and this circumstance was probably their only chance of escape They found Harry very pale and anxious. The sudden report of the guns had astounded him. He saw at once that something was the matter, and that it would be necessary to be off. All hands set to work, and tho light and buoyant sails were soon set. The chaloupe made a course so as to keep the ship between them and their enemies. The boat flew over the water like a thing of life. Ned steered, as everything depended on even the minutes gained. A quarter of an hour elapsed—a quarter of an hour of deep anxiety. Then a wild yell was heard, and the ship seemed alive with demons. The savages had gained the ship, and were busily at work plundering. They apparently were not noticed. Away—away went the chaloupe, until tho cries of the savages became indistinct. Then a loud report was heard. The pirate was coming up, and was pounding thn derelict, in order to clear it of its savage captors. Gun after gun followed, and then all was still. By this time they were a good distance from the awful ship, and Ned Summers advised to take in all sail, lower their mast, and trust to their oars. The others readily acquiesced, and the small party of fugitives were soon floating, a speck on the waters, with one only idea now in their heads. To escape from the wretched-men?w}io dealt in wholesale robbery and murder.. The sun was soon so hot as to render''labour very hard, and, directing .the .other two = to get under an awning made by the mainsail, Ned determined simply to keep before the - wind, as that took them away from the northward and eastward. The day passed, and night came, :a/.night not so dark as the preceding one, but still dirty. To sail was dangerous, as they now had no guide. Not a sign of land, not any known star, by which to set their course. Again they resolved to lie to. Scarcely had they done so, when a sudden lurid glare illumined the heavens. At first it was but slight, then it increased, and suddenly it burst into a mass of flame. The pirates had fired the doomed ship, to hide their iniquity, and bury their dead. Ned gazed at the huge blaze with melancholy interest, and, as he did so, suddenly felt the boat's keel graze some hard substance, and then heel over to port with a jerk which nearly sent them overboard. 4:- They were fast in a small channel, between two rocks. Leaping to his feet, Ned clambered overboard and bade his comrades do the same. The boat just floated, and, taking an oar, Ned sounded. Deep water in front. There remained only to scramble onshore, and tow the boat out or forward. After some difficulty, they contrived to get on the rock, and succeeded in drawing the chaloupe into a small bay, surrounded on all sides by lofty trees. What with excitement and fatigue, the boys, though utterly ignorant of their whereabouts, were too glad to find this unexpected retreat. They, however, found that there was a strong current through the bay, and were soon com- pelled to moor the boat stem and stern. It was this very current which had sucked them into this snug retreat. Still its existence proved that there was an- other outlet. Ned>whowas less fatigued than the others, induced them to remain in the boat, while he kept the first watch on shore. They acquiesced, on condition that they were awakened in turn. Taking Carlo with him, happy and joyous to be on terra firma again, he shouldered his gun and took his way along the bank, keeping the water in view as much as possible. He soon found the outlet, which was narrower than the one by which they had entered, and where the water ran like a mill-race. Of course, they would have to go back the way they had come, which could only be done by lightening the chaloupe. Satisfied with his examination, Ned was about to return, when a low growl from the dog aroused his attention. There was danger at hand, either from man or beast. Ned carried pistols and a sword, as well as his gun. Still, the best policy was secrecy, and yet he wished to know the nature of the danger. He stooped low, and listened. Nothing. "Find—find," he whispered to the dog, and the intelligent brute started before, halting sud- February 1, IS'ô.] 139 BOYS OF ENGLAND. denly about fifty yards from where he had given the first alarm. Ned at once comprehended the situation, as well as the fearful danger they had escaped. The launch belonging to the pirate rose and fell, close at hand, on the swelling waters. It was anchored some distance from the shore, to which it was further fastened by a rope. The crew—as truculent a set of ruffians as over were collected—sat round a fire. Their voices were plainly heard. A burly fellow, of stout build and stalwart height, was addressing them. "I tell you, I seed them with these here two eyes, as plain as I sees you, and they were lost just about here. Now, I ain't a going to be done by three trumpery boys—it's just what we want for the two messes. So, I tell you, mates, they must be found, and taken on board, where, arter they have had three dozen apiece, by way of шаН money, they'll do." The men laughed hideously, and resumed their pipes and grog. Ned stood transfixed with horror. A flogging was terrible to think of for himself, or even Fred; but Harry Thornton would die under the infliction. Once he levelled his gun, with the intention of shooting the man; but, burning as his anger was, ho reflected on the consequences. With a dark frown, he turned on his heel and rejoined his companions, who slept soundly, ignorant of the stupendous danger that menaced them. Ned, however, did not awake them at once. He needed time for reflection. It was, indeed, quite midnight when he stepped on board the chaloupe and roused his heavily sleeping friends. "Boys," he said, as soon as they were able to understand his words, "there is danger at hand. The pirates have tracked us to this lonely spot— now, don't be frightened" "I am not frightened," replied Fred. "I am only sad," observed Harry. "I am going to tell you something dreadful, and which must make even you, gentle Harry, fight for your life. These men intend, if they capture us, to flog us first, and then make cabin boys of us on board their murderous craft." "Sucking pirates," said Fred. Harry Thornton only groaned with unspeak- able anguish, "We must not remain here," continued Ned, ubut shall have to abandon the chaloupe to its fate. I trust it will be concealed enough by •these heavy boughs. At all events, we have no choice." * >::ил Ц w.m win-у ' hi-.*, •<•!•,, by the Auta.r ai - Сош.; CiW,^ j ,v.„ 'fm «vín-í. íb, N-'.v 1;.:'Лг».ьР". Vt v. » ] :Г. mb ! } « .... »|, ,í,,<Í i-ivr.V 4 у К.i 1 W í'.íy ¡si i'7-1 <"7-,',,;i: b ''■ .:. i:,'.':-; ::¡ lh»> pound, ЬЬЛа >-il Lü wt.-а by.b *j1í": "7,7,1; CÍIAÍ'TKU L bí «Л г;,- '.r<"íi.T.< U 4 . , ; «/bb "Ьч< ; - «t wíh liol,ni íb . 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'.-77, - (.Г 7Í 1-:: "'A « í • .. 1! , 7 . l.ítafi bnV.ts e«rí;-.;n ío шякс a gnuí-. íU'i ыли*- Пи,; 'л г i'. •\m."',m" r. . Пт7'" Kí^o-i ',v,íi; f - jí ir «л !• "1: "'ч1' :*" Brt»wn» я-- bis <7-4faift 0^!wweU Ги|к. ТЬ.ч1- .iíiVir." í.b'.' • ''.»'! -fUCU l;.íílí.Í;iV7 ÍUiU, "í «'--7r,-f/7 ÍÍ7T7 Wi l'V If. ^!ä!.f 'í У'Ш^'чП-н; t for П7'-«7 i']}" |'гк*й*К war«: tho ;.7.«)(1 <»Ь| t'inen OÍ íí^'»,-^*,, <»f ÎH-.îy д74| ?4iist ¡'( •>! V, ''7,7. , ¡a.<í д!1?.1 níl il tut soit 'i tbín^. Th.fv ïmt! m;*nv Hpvrt* in ib7ï Кл!!, ',ví7,7~. uî J.inbh и;,..,;.-.y¡;y;3l,fInij:^.ùf У'..»К71«{77 'V - :iv-'' ]n H!o-H;tv , .llyu7,t!i)7 7'> < ,'¡ 'пш' . v' "V'l"}!=,i,iv, W.'IL bí- mt»fl«» took^ívh 'f. r.,ury l<> bin?, th'at hn \\:\r,"it\ Si IÍI¡ U) 7: «} 7,t tb" íí-'^ '"''ч7\;Ч,'7! у7 1,, Î7' ul i'r- H»7';tyi-í: rir.hf-r *пг*--*!п**К wíwi'mv, 7.5' tnl7Jl'.r -in -,L-. Mj- ,.íi< - !,í,,y ^' i;'- ii; -f; Л 'jí";,'ji;í' 4* rUr^Vy tn him :í fcînck f^r-*. _ П7<| t'ilY ïi;7-!i'*y Л J f i'.-l, Wíí" ("* iy"u 'Ç. rr(: . i' -7Л ¡7 :Л.. /7п V 7- Л?;Л,7./. ':,7 * ,:77 -, Ï O 77Í У7 7 î \ t 7f V« ¡7'",ií l'4„ î '; 7 i. .-',,^7? w!b t^itf* thâfc I was söcm Л Л1- 'f í'Oí/í'KÍ) w |in life, Jfchough my 'Г í.';'í. гЛа!Г. 1 uff of the neck an ci al lamp~poet in ошг ni bang, .... 1 V,',,, L«77'.rd OHt ь» Xah liim! ЬЛ -bot оде tíí die kiiib'¿ àwcr tile oi.bcr 'iuy Г ciiuil j "iiov\evcrf 1 vví4» мм. ,tl\tí l.i Ы «ш!.. tUrntu hr.lw Ui" I :i¡V.'.y-t >.f :J7 trhn Л-| . Л«':.77 7,'7l bS 7, '.".wthv, '•■-'Hi ÎJ7. у(;!(, p. -v : «7í77.гь.,: Л Л;н, 7 Л, • j 7 Л tí,' <■•<■'(, ,,{:■ .,, ) Л Л!,,77'Л у/',/ w'4'"* 'l4^'* •VA'Am-i'ú - Ьп; Í7- 77Í7; «"!•••; Л - ¡ 7 Л ¡ i„ î ),(. -ло; 11 '\'-.,)v, \ ч> п< Л<,'7 Í7,r<**'. yifked bituK-lt* пу. л1гЛе<1 <77 «•« í)7ít r , , '., ^''Г"*-' г..';/^ у -, J,' 146 BOYS OF ENGLAND. [Febrdaet 1, 1870. This inspired him with confidence. Baynes, nothing loth, relying upon his former victories, and the reputation he had gained as a bruiser, stepped forward, and— The combat commenced 1 Round the Fiebt brought out the sparring qualities of both. Either combatant was anxious to discover the other's weak points. Baynes assumed a more busy action than his opponent, but considerable fistic science was dis- played by both. After sparring for some minutes, Baynes had the good fortune to plant his left^ fist very cleverly upon Egerton s forehead, without the least chance of a return blow,- thus gaining the first advantage. Frank, however, took it very coolly, having made up his mind to win the fight, no mattor what difficulties might stand in the way. He showed quite a confident bearing, while the other, elated by his first success, smiled quite as joyously as he toed the mark. "I'll bet two to ónc against your man,*' said Crawley, who acted as Baynes's second. "I'll take you with a great deal of pleasure— sovereigns, of course?" replied the Earl of Pem- bridge. The bet was booked, during a few seconds of very cautious work between the combatants, which precluded a rally at close quarters, in which Egerton managed to give his antagonist a sounding blow upon the chest, which he en- deavoured to repeat, but, in so doing, caught another heavy blow on the forehead. The Crawleyites applauded greatly, and Frank Egerton's seconds began'to look rather down in the mouth. "I'll repeat the bet," said Crawley. "Certainly," replied Pembridge; "I should be a very poor second did I refuse to put my cash upon my principal." "I am with you on the same terms, Crawley," observed Fitzgerald, who had,been very-intently watching his friend's boxing. b:;. '*■'" The ground being rather slippery, after a long term of wet weather, they paused for a moment, looked at each other with a smile, and then recommenced. Egerton's length of arm now began-to show to advantage, and enabled him to <* draw the ruby,1 as a BdVs Life reporter would style it. Some close and hard* hitting;followed, at.the end of which Baynes fell, thé first round being thus slightly in favour of Egerton. "If you like to acknowledge yourself beaten you may withdraw your man," said Pembridgev "Thank you, we decline to take a licking,!' replied Baynes's second. k "You will be compelled to do.so sooner or later," was the response, at which Crawley shook his head incredulously; but he did not offer to renew his bets. ■. Round the second-then commenced. Egerton; with; great :'self-possession, advanced ';o the attack, being the firstta leave his second's knee. There was a slight symptom of discolour- ation on his forehead, and Baynes^s mouth, was à little puffed. *" ■ -< , The latter, however,* met his ^adversary with great determination, and had tile good luck to give Egerton a heavy*left-hand blow upon the shoulder, receiving in* return one on the crown>, of the head. > - Л£\ "\ t \ Both then sjmrredfoïr wbndy l that is, kept on ¡ the defensive while ^regaining , breath, then- resumed the conflict, Baynes i&t'attempted to I put in a hit, but Egerton was'clever enough to I stop it, and returned right and"Tlef t, drawing blood again. Then Baynes rushed in, and began j to wrestle, when both fell at the same time. Their seconds picked them up, and employed some few minutes in preparing* them*for a renewal. Egerton looked fresh, and his face was toler- ably free from marks, while Baynes had several severe bruises, which were beginning to exhibit different hues. Frank quickly came up to the | scratch, and put himself on guard. "Now, then, where's your man?" asked the Earl of Pembridge. "Here he Ц" replied Crawley; "the referee h аз not called « time' yet, VV'¿ shall be up in time to beat you." "Had we not better hasten on to the end of this miserable affair?" asked Frank, speaking for the first time. "Stop till my man has had a little brandy," replied Crawley, "then we shall be delighted to finish giving you a thrashing." As he spoke, he placed a pocket flask to Baynes's lips. ш "Time 1" said Marsham, who acted as judge and referee. The combatants being both upon their mettle, commenced the third round with great spirit. Egerton, with much dexterity, put in two tre- mendous hits on Baynes's left cheek. In return Baynes, after several abortive attempts, managed to give his adversary a left- hander on the throat. '' For a moment Frank was almost stunned, but, rapidly recovering, he closed in and both fell— Egerton being underneath this time.' Crawley's party cheered loudly, , "Shall l have the pleasure of booking you again-at the old figure ?" asked Crawley. "Certainly," "replied Pèmbrîdgé, "I don't mind taking your offer," said Marsham ; "for I certainly think" "Pardon me—we can't allow the referee to make a bet, and his opinion should be reserved till asked for on either side." Round the fourth was extremely short. Baynes managed to deliver another blow on the throat, knocking Egerton fairly off his legs. Baynes's few friends cheered loudly, and began to look upon the battle as won, for it seemed as though Egerton would not be able to renew the combat. 4tAre you sufficiently thrashed?" asked Crawley. "By no means 1 " responded the Earl of Pem- bridge. "Here, one of you fellows cut to the * Six Bells,' and bring up a bottle of brandy." The "Six Bells," an old-fashioned hostelry, happened to be close by, and in a few moments, under the influence of the ? spirit, Frank Egerton began to rally. When? Marsham again called time he was able to appear at the scratch with a smile upon his face. The fifth, sixth, and seventh rounds were quickly fought, with>ho great, results on either side. It was evident to all that two or three more would decide the conflict oneway or the other, for the combatants not being professionally trained pugilists, were beginning to show scanti- ness of breath, and other symptoms of distress. , Both took more brandy, then rose once more from their seconds' knees. As Egerton advanced towards his opponent, it was evident that his throat had been severely: visited by the swinging hits administered in the previous rounds.;^ >;; However,, he vrent- forward steadily, evincing every disposition to fight it out/: -; He brought Iiis lëft hand to* bear with sting- ing, severity.ionXBaynes's moutti^bringing more blood;/г ~:~"iv ■' Ttíát ; young;, gentlemanrlf einted, >ànd stepped back, but was rapidly followed byjEgerton, who: dashed in, regardless of Consequences,4 delivering both right and left upon .the righi eye.and again upon the mouth. . V Baynes fell heavily,:; and a was immediately ¡ picked up by his seconds' Crawley wiped the blood from Шз_-face1 and mouth, and once more applied the brandy flask; to hisxjips. ..V Baysies,^in a very listless manner, swallowed the spirit, which had not the usual effect upon him, and failed to revive him. He sat upon his second's knee, staring vacantly around. Egerton, though flushed and slightly fatigued, was able to walk round the ring, to 'keep his blood in circulation. "Had you not better give it up, and confess yourself beaten?" Pembridge again asked. "By no means," was the reply. "We are quite able to beat you yet." "That remains to be seen." "Less chatter there," interposed Marsham. "Time's up j bring your men to the scratch." Frank Egerton as he-commenced the ninth round saw that the victory was his own. Baynes walked with a very tottering step, and seemed hardly conscious. However, he made a show of putting up his fists, and was immediately knocked down by Egerton. Some minutes elapsed, and then Crawley, finding that his principal still remained insen- sible, said sulkily— "We acknowledge ourselves beaten." "Hurrah, hurrah I" shouted Egerton's friends, who outnumbered the others three to one. "Hurrah for Frank Egerton." "Who has proved himself the King op the School 1" added Pembridge. Half-a-dozen of them then seized him and bore him in triumph to the " Six Bells." The host was accustomed to see the pupils of the college slightly bruised after a visit to the old chalk pit, so f orebore to express any surprise till he heard that it was Baynes who had suffered defeat at the hands of our young hero. "What, Mr. Baynes whopped I" he ex- claimed. "Yes," replied^ Pembridge, "licked after a splendid mill which lasted fifty minutes—nine rounds." "It must have been a hot 'un,* for I taught Mr. Baynes to box myself," said Grimes. "But come, sir, let me tie this bit of raw meat over your eye ; it is a stunning thing to take out all the inflammation." Frank submitted, and, after sundry bottles of Bass had been consumed, and he had recovered his breath and strength a little, he and his sup- porters set out to return to Lexicon College. Crawley and his friends, supporting Baynes, were some little distance ahead. CHAPTER IV. PBOFESSOR MOEEITZ. "Ach Himmel! Wer ist dieser jüngling ?" * ex- claimed a stout, middle-aged man, with fair long hair, as he saw the conquered one come towards the college. Having carefully adjusted a pair of blue spec- tacles upon his nose he gave another look, which seemed to satisfy him as to the youth's identity. "Mein gott I" he then exclaimed in slower and more gutturaUones, " Mein gott 1 it is Baynes, and he shall hâve been fighting." The speaker was Dr. Franz Moeritz, professor of German, mathematics, and natural philosophy in Lexicon College:; - ~" /• ->-^*< Professor Moeritz was most decidedly a popular man among his pHpils,;a strict disciplinarian in class hours,~a splendid scholar^ and = a profound thinker; in .the playfield alburly, >genial "giant, who delighted to take part in the sports, patron- ised byf the Boys of Eôgland. v; r V None laughed v more ^heartily • than he ;when ne made some ridiculous blunder in .the midst of à game of cricket, or,became the victim: of 4some practical joke. , V .,' ;\ !; "Ah, Meinheer Baynes, so you have been, at ze box4. Datris b'ad.'V" / Baynès looked down;*and said nothings He felt very¿weak, and heartily longed;to retire to his bed-room. '-:у<\ул ;* Finding,the professor was not inclined to put any more questions, he tottered away; у *.>ч ¡i: Then up;came Frank ¿Egerton. brí Я ; "Zo you .are ze new poyv:, You haf begun ,wcU, sir î you;haf beat Baynes till he *" I was challenged^sir.'* •-"Ahl" 8 - "Of course I could not refuse to^accept a challenge. Even you, sir, I think, would , fight under such circumstances." -.; ^ . ■ "Yes ; but vot haf you done that hé challenges you?" "I gave him a good caning sir." "Jal I should challenge>any^man datbeats m e mit a shtick." >i-S ■ ' - "It served him right, Dr. Moeritz,; he^ehaved in a most cruel manner to a poor little'homeless boy only half his size," observed Filzgerald. *" Was ist grausamer Г f ejaculated the Ger- man, holding, up his-hands. "I should haf in Vatcrlandchaf beat him mit a shtick, and he I would' haf ^challenge me. But we should not j fight mit ze box as you Englanders always do." * Oh, Heaven! who ig this youth? f What is more cruel î ГсвдиЛЕТ 1, 1870. J 147 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "How then, doctor?" asked the young earl. "I would fight mit a degen—sword, as you call him." "Ah, yes; I have heard of the way German students fight," laughed Frank. "They pad themselves till it is almost impossible for a sword to penetrate their thick dresses; and then, if one gets a scratch on the finger or wrist, his courage cannot be doubted." "It is not always so," responded the professor. "Look;'' . He pulled off his hat—of the true republican shape—and shaking back his tawny locks showed a long deep scar extending right across the skull. The boys gathered round him curiously, as though, waiting for an explanation. "It was done when I was at the Heidelberg University." "Tell us how, doctor; I should like to hear a story of a real duel," said Pembridge. Doctor Moeritz hesitated, but being pressed by all the boys, at last consented to tell his tale. In repeating it to our readers, we shall take the liberty of making the professor speak good English, a thing he was not accustomed to do. "It is twenty-five years since I first entered the university of Heidelberg. 141 was then*a young man, and entered with heartiness into all the freaks and jokes of uni- versity life, though I certainly did not neglect the lectures'.' "In fact, I always devoted at least three hours every day to hard reading. "Of course, most of you have heard that in Germany the students do little except drink beer and smoke. "That is wrong; many of them are accom- plished students, though it is also true that many more are confirmed tavern-haunters. "I tried to hit thé medium; if I spent .my days in study, I saw no . particular harm.in passing the evenings in the society of-myvfellow students. "It was at one of these convivial meetings that I first met the, man who. gave* me that wound. "He was an Englishman, - too, and -borevthe same name as you." The professor pointed;to Frank Egerton as ¿he spoke. "That.is strange," muttered our hero. ;, Doctor Moerite, without heeding ;the interrupt1 tipn, went on—* "His name was .FairfaxEgerton— "The name of my uncle who went to America years ago, andhas not;since been heard of," said Frank. "It is indeed a singular coincidence," replied the professor. "However, as I amxunabletotell whether it was your uncle or not,I can only finish the history of my duel. "We met one night at a hostelry renowned for the excellence of its beer. "Of course the guests were all students, and among them was one named Fritz Leiderwold, a poor weakly youth, who had only just joined the university. "He was the only son of his mother, and she was a widow; a circumstance which, combined with the bad health Fritz had always suffered, had led to his having been brought up in a very effeminate way. "He could neither-Tide, swim, shoot, nor fence 1 . "The Englishman knew this well, and neg- lected no opportunity of reminding Fritz of his want of manhood. "Egerton, I should say, was not like some other Englishmen who were at Heidelberg; they were manly fellows, while he, though possessed of great personal strength and considerable skill with the sword, was known to be very cautious with whom he quarrelled. "On this particular evening he seemed more insulting than usual. 11 As I entered the tavern I heard him say— "'It's a great pity such babies as you ате allowed to go about without their nurses. Now I very nearly mistook you for a man.* "'You pride yourself upon your strength and skill, Mr. Egerton,' replied Fritz. 'I have never yet handled a sword; but you will not dare repeat those words this day six months.' "•1 dare pull your nose now,* said the ruffian, but before he could carry out his threat I dashed a tankard of beer full in his face. "Of course, after that he could not avoid challenging me, nor could I, under any pretext, refuse to meet him. "Friends on either side proffered their assist- ance, and a meeting was arranged for the fol- lowing Wednesday. "It was on a Saturday the quarrel took place. "We met. "It had been settled that no padded dresses were to be worn, and that sabres were to be used —a very different affair from transforming your adversary into a cotton bale, and tilting at him with a knitting-needle. "I found my adversary knew the theory of sword-play quite as well as I did myself. "It was also very evident that having entered on the affair, he wished to <юте out of it with flying colours. "He fought very carefully. "At length I managed to give him a slight wound on the arm. "That seemed to fire him with a determina- tion to be revenged, and a few seconds after- wards I received the wound I have shown you. "I just had strength enough left to return the compliment when I fainted; our seconds inter- posed, and declared that we had both acted like men of honour. "It was a week after the duel before I was 1 permitted to leave my chamber. "I inquired about■• my late antagonist; and was told that another 'week must- elapse ere * he would be permitted to rise from-his ibed.' ** A few days afterwards I was looking out of: my window looking towards the Konigsthul,*: when I fancied I saw people walking upon the summit. I took down my telescope, looked carefully, and saw that one of the two persons was my late antagonist, Egerton, the other being a female whom I could not recognise. "Some mysterious influence urged me to go also to the Königsthul. When I reached the spot where I had seen Egerton he had' dis- appeared, nor have I set eyes upon him since; but I found a piece of paper which I still preserve, partly as a memento of the combat, and partly in the hopes ■ that some day it may prove of value to some honest man.!' Thus ended the professor's tale; but- little thought he how soon he was to be called upon to fight another though less harmful combat. * * * « • Next morning found Baynes unable to rise. The thrashiDg he had received, together with the mortification attendant upon a public defeat, preyed heavily upon his spirits as well as body. On:-being informed of the cause, Doctor Whackley at once asked Frank if it was true. "Yes, sir," was the unhesitating reply; The doctor looked stern for a minute, and said— - "I don't approve of fighting; but, as there seems to have been some provocation in the shape of a challenge, I feel compelled to over- look it. I am glad, too, that you, like most of my pupils, know how to speak the truth." "Rather an impertinent remark," thought Frank to himself, but then neither he nor the other pupils of Lexicon College knew that Baynes had been . guilty of prevarication when 'questioned as to the fight. Two days after tho combat, ßayncs wrote the following note to his friend Captain. Robinson —of the black-guards, said Pembridge. He did not tell anyone of his friends, not even the renowned Crawley, what he was writing about ; but we, using the author's power of seeing farther through a brick wall than other people, shall take the liberty of peeping through the envelope and reading it. It was worded thus :— i "Deab Robinson,—Since I saw you the other ! day I have had a tremendous mill with one of our fellows, and, you will be sorry,to hear, got the worst of it. I cannot leave my bed for a week, so that you see it will be quite impossible for me to do anything towards Monday night's adventure. But don't be alarmed, old fellow; * King's scat, a hill on the south side of Heidelberg. put off the affair for a week or two, and I will find some means of paying you the £20. •* Yours faithfully, "Hilton Baynes." Captain Robinson swore when he received the note, and vowed that he would not be baulked by a boy, and that Monday night would find him—Baynes knew where I CHAPTER V, . "HABRY, THE HEIR OF A NOBLE HOUSE." It is time now that we should enlighten our readers as to the doings of the boy whose ap- Eearance at the station was the cause of the fight etween Baynes and Egerton. After being rescued a second time from his tormentors, "Harry, the Heir of a Noble House," as young Webb3r called him, hunted about, and with a little trouble managed to find, a decent and cheap lodging, which he immediately took possession of, and enjoyed such a night's sleep as he had not known for many months. The next day—that is, the day of the great fight—he entered upon his dutiesgathering green food for Webber's rabbits, looking after Marsham's dogs, and grooming the Earl of Pem- bridge's horse. The work suited him admirably, and so kindly was he treated by his young masters, that he blessed the day he *was tempted to go into the t railway station to try to beg a penny. Things went on very pleasantly till he had been an the good old town of Salisbury: a week. • , , I '. . . I r On that day—which; 'of course, * was the* Mon- day.of- which Captain Robinson had spoken/so impressively—he was, by Marsham's instructions, t&king the two terriers (which were kept at the "Six Bells ") out for exercise. He walked till he reached a wood at the top of the hill above the old chalk-pit. Suddenly Pincher and Billy bolted into the underwood, most probably in pursuit of a rabbit. Harry called and whistled in vain, they would not return to him, nor had he any very definite idea which way they had gone. Not knowing much about such matters it struck Harry that it would not be a bad idea to climb a tree ; then, perhaps, his range of, vision being-more extended, he would- be able to see- something of the truant tykes. Accordingly he ascended a young oak, the- trunk of which was thickly covered with ivy.; No dogs could be seen, but he suddenly be- came aware of footsteps and voices approach- ing.: Now the London boy had heard terrible tales- of i the horrible punishments inflicted- , by the bloated aristocracy of this land upon small boys,, poachers, stick gatherers, and other hardy tres- passers. The idea flashed through his mind swift as lightning that the approaching individuals were two-gamekeepers in the employ of the tyrannical proprietor of the wood—that they had heard him calling the dogs, and, therefore, would imme- diately imprison him for poaching, or perhaps some crime of greater magnitude. The first law of Nature—self-preservation— 1 was obeyed immediately. ¡ . Ho crouched among the ivy that clustered : about the fork of the trunk so as to completely conceal himself. * i . The voices approached nearer-and.nearer. "Surely they can't be gamekeepers," thought the boy. "Why, they arc not talking about me!" That was quite true. Any thing or body appeared to be the,-theme of their conversation, though it seemed they had some kind of game in view. Harry listened more attentively. "Old Whackley is rich enough, for a Jew," said one. "And ever so much stingier,'? replied the other. "I did the petition dodge up there once ; widow and six children burnt out, and-all that sort of thing. I'm blest if he didn't send it back, say- ing that he believed I was an impostor, and he'd a good mind to send for the peelers." "That, of course, didn't suit your book?" 150 [February lf 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. A STRANGE CAREER; OR, THE FORGER'S У1СТШ. CHAPTER XIX. THE WOLF AND THE LAMB. AM writing a poem, and this quiet spot suits my meditations," was the re- ply- "Indeed! Judging by your dress, you don't look one who could afford to waste much time writing poetry." "Now I might reply that fine clothes don't show that the owner of Linden Lodge has forgotten how to be rude," "What poem arc you writing ?" he asked. "The progress of a forger," answered the man. Oscar started. The truth instantly flashed upon him. The fellow before him was one of Pcndle's emissaries. He darted upon the man, and struck him a heavy blow in the face; but at this moment the hedge was violeutly thrust aside, and two men, one of whom he immediately recognised as Hatton, sprang upon him. Oscar struggled desperately, and shouted for assistance, but a blow which seemed to crush in the back of his head, " felled him to the ground senseless. Two hours had elapsed since Oscar left the house, and it was already past the time he usually left Linden Lodge. Mrs. Liversidge smiled maliciously, and said, "Oh 1 Miss Armitage, you know the men are such deceivers.*' The time passed on. The gilt pendulum of the massive ormolu time-piece swung slowly to and fro, at each stroke making the world older and life shorter. Mrs. Liversidge sat busy at her eternal knit- ting; a smile rested on her features as every now and then she raised her little, sharp eyes to I Next morning a visitor was announced, who, in the language of the servant, desired to see the head of the house. Mrs Liversidge took upon herself to answer, and said— "Ask him to come into this room." Cissy at first thought it might be a messenger from Oscar, but the strange term of "head of the house " caused her heart to sink deeper. A middle-aged man entered. His hair was snowy white. His lips were thin and firmly compressed, and his little restless eyes were cold and sinister in their expression. It was Mr. Cornelius Pendle. "Have I the honour of addressing the mistress of this establishment?" asked Pendle, in his blandest tone. Cissy could not reply, so Mrs. Liversidge answered for her. "Whatever you have to savj.shyyou may say to us." "This is Mr. Merivale's*villa, I believe?" » It is." "Then, I am sorry to say,-Lam^the bearer-of melancholy news; bur,"-.ímnd- he looked with wolfish eyes towards Cissy," "it concerns the young lady, who, I presume, is Miss Armitage." Cissy clasped her hands in anguish, as she • exclaimed— "What is it? Tell me—what has happened?" Pendle paused. He seemed to be enjoying the anguish de- picted on the countenance of the poor girl. "Oh, speak—speak 1" cried Cissy, "for Hea- ven's sake ! where is Oscar? Is he dead? Pray let me know the worst!" "No, Miss Armitage, he is not dead ; but I regret to say, for your sake, that he has left the country, never, I am afraid, to return I" Cissy's heart seemed to stop beating; her mouth opened wide, and she stared vacantly at Pendle. She rose mechanically from her chair and advanced a step towards him. Then a scream of wild despair issued from her look over her spectacles to glance at her young lips which touched even Pendlc's icy heart, and companion's anxious face, She felt a secret satisfaction in the young girl's distressr "I feel so strange, Mrs. Liversidge. I hope nothing has happened to Mr. Merivale. He never could be so long away as this." "That's rubbish, miss, to give way to those thoughts. He has probably met with some friend." "I shall go into the garden and see Richard,",| said Cissy, finding no great comfort in Mrs. Liversidge's fatalist theory. The old man was watering, a is bed of geraniums. "Mr. Merivale has been away more than two hours," said Cissy, approaching him; "and?it's; past the time he usually goes back to London. I think there is no other train to-night. ' Some- thing must be the matter. He would never.^go without saying good-bye." '/ No, Miss Cissy, that he never would. I can't think what can detain him." "He has always been so' particular in bidding me good-bye, Richard," said Cissy. There was something in the tone of her voice I that made the; old man look round, and, as he1 did so, he saw Cissy's pale, anxious face turned towards him, and :the large, .blue eyes looking anxiously into his. « They can't have-had a quarrel," he thought; and then he said/ "Well, miss, I will run into the village, and- see-if'I* can find him. Pray don't worry. He is, no doubt, safe enough." But the old gardener had himself now grown apprehensive. He remembered the conversation between himself and Oscar an hour or so before, and began to think that the mysterious stranger in the lane was by some means the cause of Oscar's absence. ,;But it is needless to say that the gardener's search was unavailing, and his return only added to Cissy's distress. The time passed on, but no Oscar returned, and the inmates of Linden Lodge retired to bed, Cissy crying herself to sleep while offering up prayers for Oscar's safety. she screamed—; "God have 'mercy on him 1" and fell on the floor helpless. Mrs. Liversidge coolly rang the bell. ¡ With the aid of her husband and the two Í servants Cissy was carried to her own room. All the power of restoratives seemed for some time unavailing. She was prostrate; she lay like a delicate flower blighted—crushed in all its beauty and fulness of life. Presently the sufferer gave a long-drawn sigh, and the parched lips closed and parted slowly. I Then a low, murmuring wail of distress—of \ terrible despair—came from her, and after a little while the poor girl burst into a violent, agonising flood of tears. i< She will be all right now," said Mrs. Liver- sidge. "You had better go down, Dick, and you two. girls stop with her, and give her what she asks \for. I must go and see the gentleman îbelow ; I shall be up again directly." ^'Mrs...Liversidge entered the drawing-room, 'where 'Pendle sat wiping his eyes, although he •well* knew they had not been guilty of a tear -from.his early childhood. " misfortunes >¿han*i deprivation of his of keys from > his pocket, and, with'little diffi- personal liberty"threatened him. eulty, opened the desk. He thought, of the female he had seen through The result of his search was the finding of the owl's eyes,*and clasped his hands, inwardly a bank pass-book, which showed there was a praying for strength to^burst the thraldom in small balance on-.a drawing л account at the which hep was, held. London and Westminster Bank. But the prize "¿Tain't no.use, my fine fellow," said!his cap- he most gloatedxover was a packet, tied round ,tor"that-.therc^rope 'ud hang^a ^helephant. with a piece: of *nbbon,: formerly^belongingi to Strain away—you'll. only bust a :blood-vessel, poor Barbara, and*-which;he instantly: recognized and that,~ perhaps, may save you from .worse." as the document ;:Oscar;had: alluded -to, and "What does Pendle pay you ?" he asked,-seized these, with the-pass-book,*,he thrust into this .-/with.a newidea. ; > ■ 1 pocket. • - , **'•' -"">.; "What's that to you ?'' said thevinan,-r emore "Now, Mrs.! Liversidge," ^said^ Pendle,** when than you'd.like to give me." v':.■ h^ had concluded his investigation of the^c^^ "Xam rich,Msaid Oscar. :'; tents of the desk, "I shall retain;your services , "And^so is Pendle,"-said the man.: for a few weeks longer, and shall give you a j "I'll give you twice as much ashe gives^you." trifle as compensation for the unexpectedioss of \ "Will you, though?" said the fellow/iand he your situation." 'put his finger: by the side of his nose. "Thank you, sir." I "Only assist, ma to escape, in-some way, and "Do you know the relations of this girl?" I'll give yon three times as much." "There's only a-brother, sir; a low sort of: "That's all very well, my rum'un; but, you I have no money I have, got plenty of man, I think, sir." "Very good. Take care of Cissy for the present, and do not let her leave this house; I will make it my business to call on her brother, and explain the affair to him." And, extremely well satisfied with the pro- gress of matters, Mr. Pendle took his departure. see, Pendle's a constant employer, and you ain't." And with an insolent gesture the man withdrew. A few hours after Pendle visited the asylum, and gloated over his victim as a tiger would over its prey. Oscar repeated to him .the story of Barbara's death,, and the news visibly affected the cold- : . hearted swindler. CHAPTER XX. i He turned ashy pale and his under lip quivered •" nervously. oscAU IK THEiTOiLS of his~foe. | But it was only momentarily. By a [slight On recovering his senses, Oscar, bewildered by effort Pendle seemed to regain his former corn- hearing a dull, grating noise, like wheels revolv- -posure, and Oscar saw-that all chance of escape ing upon a hard road, required some moments through Pendle's desires had departed for ever, to comprehend his real position, and, when he With the death of Barbara all Pendle's sym- did so, he found himself in a fly, travelling along pathy had disappeared, and he now only looked at a rapid rate. on Oscar as an impediment thafcmust be removed Then he became conscious that his arms-were from his path, bound behind him at the .elbows, and that his ■ "You have taken possession of all: her pro- mouth was gagged, and' that- some one was 'perty, I find," said Pendle, sitting by his side, and his heart sank -when he I Oscar explained, but Pendle seemed ,deaf to reflected that he was once -.more in the power his words, sitting like a block óf granite,, his of Pendle. I eyes glaring at him ferociously. All through the night the. vehicle lumbered j At last he said, slowly, but sternly, along over the sandy-road. Once they stopped ■ "You have studied your story well, young at a little roadside tavern, and the coachman man; but do not expect me to believe it. Where knocked up the landlord for drink, and to change are the-witnesses to your marriage,, and to the the horse. Oscar then saw, by the light of the | execution of the will ?—at the bottom of the seá. landlord's lantern,- that the-man who sat beside You have, by some means, taken advantage of him was no other than the prowler of Linden Lodge! Oscar motioned to the man to remove the gag, and give him something to drink,- but the brute only laughed, and gave back the glass to the landlord. "No, no, my friend Î, you're labelled specially dangerous! I have got you, and-don'tintend to give you half a chance of escape," he said; and then, buttoning up his coat and pulling his cap down over his cars, he settled himself in the corner, leaving Oscar to his meditations, which were, of course, of a most depressing nature. He was'recalled to himself, after another hour, by a thump in the side, and the voice.of his companion saying, "Come, get up!" and he bundled Oscar, helpless and pinioned as he was, out of the fly, and dragged him into a house. When a light was brought, a chill of horror ran over him, for he recognized the room of the her love for you, attained your ends, and mur- dered her. Remember that 1. and more," -con- tinued he, rising up, with his countenance dis- torted by fury, "that you will remain here for a short time only. When my plans are complete, you shall swing at Newgate as an assassin!" And, before Oscar could recover from this un-, expected outburst, Pendle abruptly left the room. * * * * Three days passed wearily away, and, except- ing the attendant who brought him his meals, Oscar saw no one, and he felt it a positive relief when, at last, a visitor was announced, and a few minutes afterwards Hatton entered the room. "Well," said Hatton, folding his arms, "I have come to see you once more." "For what purpose?" asked Oscar; "unless to taunt me with my captivity." "Perhaps not," said Hatton; "although I vowed to have full vengeance on you for block- ing up the vault. There is something I love better than that—money!" "Ah!" said Oscar, "you will aid me to escape?" "If you will pay the price." « I shall not haggle about that, Hatton. Only set me free from this accursed place, and you shall be rewarded beyond your expectations." "Promises are very good," observed Hatton, "but they bear no money value. What will you give?" "I'll give you a £1000 when I get out of this place." "Give it to me now." "That is impossible, here." "Can I trust you?" "Of course you can. money in the Bank, and thouglf Pendle may have ransacked my villa, the securities for the топеулге in the: hands of my solicitor." ■".Ikr.ow.it., ■ I've heard Pendle say so." "If you can-manage .to-set me free, I will give you £1000 twenty-four, hours afterwards." "I couldr set-you at liberty this instant if you give me the money." *.f Don't .doubt what I say. To make you safe |.givc ~me, pen'.andLinland paper, and I'll give you a promissory-mote'.' for double that amount in casc**thc.i;.£1000 is not paid on a certain day." "tYes ;^but supposing you refuse to give it to me,, and say it was obtained by fraud?" "That ia-ällj I can offer.'' "Well,->give me a promissory note for £2000 payable this . day week, and1 I'll set you free within the next two hours." "I agree," said Oscar. "Liberty just now is worth any price." "I will, then, get pen, ink and paper," said Hatton. From his waistcoat Hatton took an ink bottle, and a shut-up penholder, and from his coat- pocket a small, flat case, from which he took a sheet of note paper. "There you are. I came prepared, you sec. Now write it, and I'll set you free." "How will you manage it?" asked Oscar, pausing before he began. "Why, it's easy enough. -X-came .down here .with the tale that Pendle ^sent. me *to see how you were getting on,- and;the,(proprietor's out, .and there's only that; there.long:-scraggy fellow in the house. I ,shall go r out * and get into con- versation, and play .at cards-with. him. He's .very fond of cards. I-don't mind losing twenty pounds when I can get two, thousand by it—d'ye see?" "I see." "I'll leave this .door.-open. You remember your way to the front door, sdo you?" « Yes." "Well, go right straight-out, and I'll keep the keeper engaged. You must be cool—take and Walk right out and turn to the right. Go along half a mile and; you'lL see a barn. There's a board loose at one: .end; get inside the barn, and wait there till I fetch you." "But how will you account for my escape?" "Very easy—look at this." Hatton pulled from his coatrpocket, five short pieces of iron screwing into each other, when it formed a.irigid iron rod, one inch in diameter and four feet long. « There—there it is j I have screwed it-up for you. П1 put it under your raattrass. rWhen I am gone, stick it between these two bars here, give it a wrench, and yon will find the top bar will come out lite a cork out of a bottle, only with about half as much noise. They will think you have, gonet up the chimney again. Then un- screw this ■ crowbar,, put the pieces in your pocket, and-сапу it away." "But it will be so heavy," said Ogcar, "Why not leave it?" "Leave it \ Well,: you, innocent! Pendle will know that thing is mine. No, carry it away with you. You'll have just an hour to do all this. Don't fear} and now write the bit o' paper and sign it." Oscar wrote the words, " I promise to pay j" ^ there he stopped. })<Л'< (*V К NTH. AND. ROYS OF ENGLAND. тШЁШЁЁЁЁЁ «F THE RIVAL CRÜSCES. Itî тн;; Aî-Titok of •* r**:.i iuutN«;,"" tt's» мл," Л1> , .Vf, i 'Г''i fi ииЛ ,i thkv еьлм1:п.'П> то th s; г<»< • г an. i .•:.]„%' !'Им bn ,:yh, -ip *.y * b< i- y: - ь \r»v|v :;ч<м i!. ÍHí! .ч* h i.* :»<'Vi,t w>v t.. ],;;?)-ЬТ-сс y»n in ихо:Ь*т хтпипа Ь« wîîh k::u<;W <-îi5i'j" tb" wh"«Î? t.bcy !;ty <Т'-м* tTr haif-ли- 11 hi 'Ли; h«':;-;hs m и the Ь.у\ч b<«b\v math* пл-tcîy r.'.iiv:, , ib-r ib' v.Vi.v.tr.i« síí.'iWí'S' ;T «•rt'<\4-íiiUs, CHAPTER XXVIJL—<> <;,,-«,,!•. <УЩ\ N ^ i < > í T г ;г1 г и, < t ' ; < • i г at rang then íi ntnvM %-íiuhmg the roots a an»i и!чт1 oUannel. whb'hj t!,.> t;jH<»r >bb\ /Ч< '.'Л м.ьмг^'п iT«'t • o£ water, ami the ülutruku* rait waB w Lolly iu ,; what! T: <• iA\\t-x 1 \v. • 1' i Лл*«! ni hin: \\¡:'¡; и-,.:Л« h wide гик-.h «,Г нг-у-г. "" ":Úuvíul' ruiuced bis р«гт'':;> H. :г.«.г.ЛУ I Ti.-.'.у ^riv í«ad y:iíí!' .¡' :! ■ fr.-'--iif.r, <-l ih<- \ -'J '!lt SWQïl feet loi ; T< h • i ¡.v, i гппиЛ .ч -Ti - ,m.;¡.' cuitar. 1 It trended toward the water of the lake, m "Vu? ivnM Im- ::nric\ 1 thhíl/j nahí !-,r»:i'I, ítí î «• íh«y h;ivcr from side to sidc¿ but time had gradually worn away the middle. Everywhere the rocks were curiously honey- combed. Half-an-hour of perilous walking, of advanc- ing and retreating, followed. Some channels had to be leaped, and with all these the pole became an essential. Carlo had by this time rejoined them, and was leaping about in high glee. Evidently the clever animal knew what he was about, and had contrived to find food, as usual. At last the shore was reached, and the three exhausted and tired boys cast themselves on the ground to regain their breath. '** We must not remain here," said Ned, after a short rest. "When the fight is over, they will be searching for us—Indians and pirates. I'd as soon die, as be made prisoner by either.'* <*So would I," replied Fred. - Harry only sighed. Brave, resolute, and determined as he was, he had no idea of dying. There was yet within his breast the earnest hope to see England and his friends again. Glancing at their feet, Ned noticed some shiny objects in the still water. These he drew out, and found that they were the bodies of fish just killed by the heavy fall from above. Selecting the best and fattest of these, he fastened them with some withes. Provisions were scarce, and every waif was valuable. They would have to camp somewhere, and food would be necessary. Giving them about a quarter of an hour to rest and gain breath, Ned was once more on foot, and leading the way up a stony and difficult bank. It opened on some wooded plains, of varie- gated aspect. It seemed, when they had gone a mile, strangely familiar to both Ned and Harry, "Harry," whispered the elder boy. "What is it Г "Why, do you not know-" Harry looked about him, shook his head, hesitated, and then laughed. "Do you see yonder trees?" asked Ned, pointing to a tall grove. "Impossible!" "No, heaven be thanked !" said Ned. "I know it now. Go on, Carlo; find—find!" With a low bark, cautious, but joyful, Carlo responded. On, on, the three weary, hungry, and ex- hausted fugitives went now. They knew the place. Behind yonder trees was the entrance to the valley of the goats. The entrance to their own fort, to the home on the island, where they had met with so many adventures. Here, at all events, they would have shelter, and would be able to defend themselves against the whole force of the pirates and of the Indians combined. They seemed to rouse and regain new energy as they advanced. Ned Summers was quite jovial, while even Harry contrived to get up a smile. "Home, food, dairy, butcher's shop, and bed," said Ned, encouragingly. He knew how to raise their flagging spirits. All smiled. The prospect was indeed cheering. Presently, with a low whine of recognition, the dog ran on, and disappeared through the narrow opening, which led into the valley where they had so long abandoned the goats while in search of adventures by sea and land. In a few minutes more he was followed by the others, and the Boy Crusoes were once more at home. The first thing, as the goats came nip, was to stoop, and by means of their old gourds, to ob- tain a supply of milk. The animals appeared themselves:glad to see their masters ; like nearly all the brute creation, once used to the society of humanity, they were lost without them. CHAPTER XXIX. ПОМЕ COMFORTS—OUT ON THE HUNT—A TEEBIBLE LOSS. Though Harry Thornton nvas certainly in raptures at returning to the home which he had, unaided and alone, founded in the wilder- ness, the other boys were almost equally de- lighted. Their journey had been so painful and perilous, as well as fruitless, that the prospect of repose and quiet was pleasant even to the aspiring spirit of Ned Summers. But after a few days, so inconsistent is human nature—boys as well as men—that he was fuming to be out and about again.! There was plenty of meat, milk, and even a1 sort of bread, with a moderate supply of fruit, but Ned was one of those who never can be still —never be satisfied with good food provided, but always hankering for that which was difficult of attainment. "I feel as rusty as my old gun," he said, one morning, after scarcely eating any breakfast, kicking his heels on the edge of the platform in front of the. house. "Something must be done." "Tired of home already!" replied Harry, with a pout and a shudder. "No. One must, however, have some exer- cise. Care killed the cat, you know, and idleness would soon kill me," continued Ned. "What do you propose to do?" asked Harry, with a sigh of regret. "Have a day's hunting, to be sure," replied Ned Summers. » But the pirates—the savages ?[* "They have had enough of it long ago," said Ned, tartly; "besides, we had just as well be dead, as close prisoners up here." No further opposition was made by either Harry or Fred, and soon after breakfast, armed to the teeth, and accompanied by Carlo, the three once more sallied forth upon the plains and mountains of the island. They were now in the height of their summer season; the foliage ^ was in all its glory, the different tropical fruits of that favoured region were ripe, and the wild island in the far distant seas was more like a paradise than anything else. Man, however, is never wholly satisfied, and the three castaways'^would have given the -whole territory, and all it contained, for the most sandy scrap of English seashore in sight of a town. As soon as they were once out of the cavern entrance to their fort and residence, all three held their guns ready, sending Carlo on in front to scout and reconnoitre. The dog readily obeyed, without showing any of that suspicion which so often led him to run with his nose to the ground, and to examine carefully every thicket. This roused the animal spirits of all. With no danger at hand, with nature casting her favours around with so lavish a hand, every- thing seemed beautiful. Their way, as usual, was towards the sea. Now that the pirate craft had in all proba- bility taken its departure, they might hope for other ships to come in sight. But unless very active measures were taken, it was not likely that any one- would land upon a spot which in all probability bore a very bad name. Ned proposed that every day they came that way an hour should be spent in cutting down wood, and adding it until it formed a huge pile, ready to be set fire to in the event of a sail being descried. The others readily agreed, and an hour was spent in cutting down trees, in lopping branches, and then in dragging them to a bare space of sand and rock that faced the wide and open sea. This done, the three boys made a hearty meal of fresh oysters, gathered on the shore at low water, goat's flesh, and milk, after which they continued their journey. Ned led the way, iti^the direction of the cha- loupe, about which he was anxious, as, in his heart, 'despite disappointments and rebuffs, he was determined, at the worst, to make that the means of final escape, if all tho rest failed. The other boys were far less anxious about the fate of the boat, their recent journey having been quite sufficient for them. After leaving the sea-coast, they struck across a small, scantily wooded plain, where the dog put up a number of fine fat birds, which Ned was too good a provider to neglect. They, in fact,, made all parties look forward with anxiety. Presently, however, Carlo 6tood still, as if he had discovered something new. He sniffed on the ground, and then, running forwards towards a small thicket,'raised a fine fat deer, which bounded off in the direction of the nearest wood. Ned Summers took steady aim and fired at the unexpected prize. The deer bounded in the air, evidently wounded, stood still, with t outstretched legs, one moment, and then again sought safety -in flight. Ned, who was the most inveterate of sports- men, at once threw his gun into the hollow of his arm, and bounded after the stricken animal, leaving the others to follow as best they might. Carlo naturally accompanied the foremost sportsman, and soon sniffing the blood from the wounds made easy running. The wood in which the deer had sought refuge was soon crossed, and then the young sportsman found himself going np a steep and difficult ascent, The deer was not two hundred yards ahead of him, evidently distressed and exhausted from loss of blood. Carlo now, not to be restrained by the call of his master, made one dash forward, and, after a feeble resistance, pinned the animal to the ground. Ned lost no time in getting up and driving the animal away. His long, sharp knife then finished the poor creature's struggles, and before his comrades I joined him Ned had nearly skinned his prize— if not with the neatness of a butcher, at all events with as much expedition. The carcase was cut up, the inferior pieces cast to Carlo, and the rest divided between the three, to carry with them for supper that night, and for salting and smoking. This done, they proceeded on their way, night coming on before they resolved upon a final halt. A very dense bottom, surrounded on all sides by heavily branched trees, was selected as a camping place. (To be continued. Commenced in No. 158.) BOYS OF ENGLAND. «buk, S.'hiA. i¡rr; i ■ ■ ¡1 tb-,v, mi;-!; ana wu! ibbi^a One lias esc * * í tU*! ÜV . пгы\ hcrvtivv ami ти-w If af I surgeon." , ^.fiiv^ tu beLuId in tLc L^iiiíL . The man Tili clmru/i. «ver, îMîi'b to the • >Л\ TT«- bad er douas l.iäkf tbn\V Jv.TilPCit lipon ihr- i.nj ;ij;d : f= -I* bv l . v/cp.t '4! úiU". r; »îcvj> -b-fp itnib t; ;:, !t bwv.b ■ < т Ли b-nv. }Wv milbig/m ~чтЬ.*м v. :j« i ikv 'und ib app ♦'.ЧТШ* ш Ulli у UuWn ЗЛУ; Iii nn- «;arr*ñb ш.ч, ь.-П.'Ь- t at- ft ; lb b- 11' ы o! Î. i V ка ... IVpp-'i ..I.-. b;,;. Ll-.i. "Л •HüV. > ;п,а лаа.а :,. „b !î! -tlí ."ииЬ> *ь Y;-;-.; I'm innocent mum^li.** V.;'.. i i-b; Í5," and 'i sab;p -mJe acro?« îbe Л -.. tbaï гь./îiï''HI *ла« o i' Uií; meii elibîrob and *• Aíj, ííatb 1 чрЬзЬ _ гГак*з t '! s î ч mnu-vnt умаж/ ir ; now then/' bad tho :r..x.î ïia {be Tb>- 1ч-:яиуц1 uf-Tack wa¿s im» гшчпгн of jm-Uy ob l.b.a.¿; Г:,и mob ir. nu iL С >piï whei'e tíi-j Wi.-ci* tía: .surgida: bad алн:Ьик*^ lib examina- ■ o M-ti mai.b why Híili ни ni'ddúnU''^ bi the **i'b.w bib all this occair. Mr. Unmbldmcl; Г Aî, Im.' -an:- î been hun¿ at the ba«aU,4 ífí-rn b¡ Л Mb \\ Í:*■(., 1"-, b'uib Л ACK iba Tab f ! Л b Í -, ♦ i" I >M. г, ;a ík< i .buKH 11, i;b .lu-"'. I'- ll a• ^ man ^ Urns ^liiresse« tb.ay \\bn.:b was ь»ЬчЬу iiicoill- {'I 'b»'bs$bj»* t«. uíiy Í.-IS-.- preseiib. •* * but b"f/ ^:ib 5i'/î1bûg about b, my b4i''!' wuînuîi b* iiskeci tbe >, ,r;a--')is hÍ ibe vvuman. Na; Í kiiuw iinthitig about b ; I V»"ja bed in ftiv íí.-aab biít,1, leaving ava!*ytl;ing fast, ииЛ v/ач riílv rí>u4«'.j îsp by the - ajKbt i)f tía- \û' to bava аол1}ЛсЬ'1у :-аг.ч!у.Um, wo mutt wait "a5" av. f lapada, 1 v.:J ¡caví,- b'.vu с4' mv wen àere, i;iai a-aaa: :'лг -<Ь a. r I aarb /м t■■> ,-a) b.-.r, t in- аь*|мч"аа* ,чral í а»; Г.а = .„:гпи b:!í ihr Ьшм; иf death а'» Ib** abaría* «/f tba. tw»* роШч-тиа .bi'-k 1ht (¿íid ïiîadi- up libs ï/bf.d а./í b) >ífy шига íbrtíi wan îib^duîidy ïi'Haaaary ; Ы: ;biW the H î Ьки ajy а \\.а.4 anuuf ill-1 piaa-k ai, На- : id-- .. ;a¡.<'b- w ': \ \ b *!p î ' а -. 1Ъ«'га abs't а! ка;а'/л ;:i¡. }иФ,; ijJut is íbaíd, itîioH.trb," {' Hibbab all ИЬл ,чч be >at in tin: a- lb 'baaiba. wbo íb;r pna>ai w;un t'ait uceupívb "k afamad in-'y a. .v; bo «■',/,. м-. « { ¡ , :a, ra1 'I'í^' '^а;!=! b^i tbc í:a:a^';a ;^ v.-iy^ b^rtal ■ s':< '''"V1, ;*u"s'a i;ia:, jia/d: ^ uib« b;».a! tvvrx mvííiu.t t'j ^;v« way wbb 1шг, нам.,; а-.! 1 а,Л Ьа ;;:,tb',' ,ч! a., t '-i/t'ak, W' 'a;;í.ab* .^aí î * \. «;d> bin- arrivai,11 wbai Nb .thít».^," u-ач the rep ;n an '■• "bt ad.» r.hera'rf mi taid af bake; be wasn't 'bî;b ''f tl¿b r;bbí «4,irb aatil it's better that be ■b !!îJd "Ьа Inad^n bu H cl iban the lîmàj Jack "4':*. brppHf ¿ \ц yíltiH;. it'ü better. They caa*t p. rr1iV;. ипугглпу u^nihht m n—only thnr. I Vas un. _ j , , : 'be i-'franiw"','; ; so thxi are ab rírnt, .luck," ^'"\;'<г* *Vu,,('"-a: baring bus timo tbc ia'bdb^asa*.,- lj:ld j>r.(.n >oa tifa.IV aanjíu, : santbo :ia t h-па.Ьb^)ob"lïiîî }к.Ь>е sa.itáuis wííb , u Ibíí •i^aríjititm «>Г the thm рч1-мт*; Míiu ^ner^b^rft^ aI1UiU îlUd Ü¥01' di:iií;ír:í'a? ^ two v w^ia '-'¿ííj. , a ta-а а; ли i unit a jui.iy gülJ(| p^.^bp^t Wt níit| raaay у^лТ:, pVvl bi i3v» Id al ;da; Hiba.b ш гч ;ï ly jp; rtliv !i:m1 1 ''V, t >í :."e Г.-: b;;a;b i , - У- b:d:- !b;-;b4~d. b ta-y I ... -n'tha. iNíur-í" <>}' îia?îîM* w¡¡> ab n>-wy,' ; t!aT'*b-r-, b'V'un Ibakibar baidíy al, tac 4 ¡ !bb b< ay did î ia> '>о'аг :" a«\ a ;a ■ ,;iJ..:. ,,. _ /\ a, „,,. , hi< c."b, and a^htia/aad U!;ni it. wan í 4 ,\h, (bal b, '■.> >-aa ím.v k,.- v»,, !a,p ;. ¡ ,-d i« '«.• и/ íU*- p.bdaa. y. .i ,ad ; rb' г a-a ai.a ¡a b~k<- i it k<. b.'k-a, ía'<- у- а кЬЬ-Ь^ц up tbai auí;-c к :a' ■' ;i',;„.,¡ '--р^-а .••X d;. ',v> la-'a;, vk / 111 "Ь ¡a"."'i-- 1 av-í » Web, aaîlie, tbabs a *¿ * í !■< • i i-а ■ > \ ;lt ■ -, a' 'к d- b'/k: • >,',< p;, !,:.].,--,(," "« » ■ !'.«•- a • а-м, ;,>,•' î i !ia man. î "V;a„ pb. .¡ - ) i, с,. (,.. •, а\м a- a< .a-, •,>•<« wiia )»*и; I want Sian¡- : 'а а<> a'av'a ,b'.'— ana aand, к! it !>" "' .' I; ' ."-b ааЛр< bí^b--b ааьа w:d аьаг^*пЬ а 158 BOYS OE ENGLAND. [FEBRUÀRT 1, 1S70. little French cream .would add to the flavour of the mocha." The man gave a hearty laugh, and then slammed the door in his face. After a time the door was again opened and the same man handed him a mug of coffee, with a couple of thick slices of bread and butter. "There's everything but the eggs, ham, rolls, and tihe cream. You'll get all that by-and-bye." The next moment he was left to the enjoy- ment of his breakfast as best he could. Л short time passed, then the door again opened, and he was ushered into the presence of the inspector. "And so, my lad, you refuse to give either your name or address?" said the officer. "Yes, till I see my equal, the magistrate,*' was the reply, "Ah, there is but little doubt but that we shall have somebody- there to tell us your name and speak of your character," was the reply. "All right, they can only give me a good one, if they haven't any spite against me." And that said, he set to whistling until a smart cuîï of the head stopped his music. A very short time after a cab drove up to the station and then Jack was politely placed in it with a constable on each side to see that he didn't fall out. The nest moment, to his surprise, Bill Skinner was placed opposite.to-him, carefully guarded in the samamanner- But although .strictly watched not a muscle of cither of their laces gave the least idea but that they were perfect strangers to each other. "Good morning, sir,'' said Jack; "hope you *are quite* well." A growl was¡all the answer he got. "Well, when I go out for a day's pleasuring, I do like a civil and good companion," said Jack, with a grin. Soon after he delivered himself of this senti- ment, the cab stopped at the door of the police courtr>r *\ The crowd was,a cíense óne, for the report had gone abroad that the burglars had murdered Jonas Humbleback, and a lad who was on the premises,.- They were at once placed at the bar, and when called upon both resolutely refused to give cither name or address. "I think, your worship, that little difficulty can begot over,." said our old friend. James Hawk, stepping forward. "I have a witness here who can positively identify them in .another case over the water." "I never was over the water in all my life," said Jack; "I know nothing of the genelman standing at my side, and who looks very like a wictim of persecution, and" "Let silence be kept in the court 1" said the usher, for the peculiarity of Jack Pepper's speech had worked upon the risible muscles of the un- washed idlers who stood at the back of the court looking on. "What is your name?" said the magistrate. "Perhaps as that genelman knows it better thani myself, he will tell you, sir I" was . the reply.*;; Jack had made up his mind to fight the battle out to the last, although he could see but slender chances of winnipg'. His hopes fell greatly when he saw a clean and well-dressed boy,sta^nd in the witness-bos, and look quietly yet firmly at him. Jack in a moment'knew the boy. *( Well, I don't know him," he said. "Yes; but I knows youyJack Pepper Г said Head-over-heels. "Stop, let the boy be sworn," said the magistrate. And having answered the questions put to him, he gave, amidst the breathless attention of all in the court, an account of his playing the ghost in the factory, and of the burglary; "That's Jack Pepper, and him alongside is I Bill Skinner his companion ; and them two were in the factory, and broke open the safe, and that I swears to." The faces of the two prisoners in the dock at . once showed that the boy spoke the truth, for at the mention of their names and their breaking into the bicycle factory, a deadly pallor spread over the faces of both, "The younger one," said Hawk, "lives with his uncle, an old rag, bone, and metal dealer, of whom, in a few hours, we shall be able to give a good account; besides this burglary, I want tbem for another affair at Stockwell." "Is there any witness of what took place, last night?" asked the magistrate. "Yes, sir," replied the inspector. And with that the man who had seized Jack Pepper stood forward, and gave his evidence, as well as the man who captured Skinner as he was escaping from the premises. "I shall remand them for a week until the coroner has inquired into the circumstances of that unfortunate boy's death ; it may be that a charge of murder may be brought against them as well as of burglary. Remove them!" Jack Pepper and his companion walked out of the dock; and when the mob had seen them off in the van, they made up their minds to adjourn to the house where the dead body of the poor, misguided boy, Luke Craft, lay stark and cold! CHAPTER XlVi THE BICYCLE HAS RUN ITS LAST RACE. The surgeon who had .been called in had the body of. the boy raised, and placed upon the large chest* that contained the gold and bonds and securitiespf old Jonas Humbleback, his uncle, and thus the corpse lay upon the dross that he had lost his^life-in striving dishonestly to get possession of. "There is little doubt but that he has met his death from v that pistol, but whether'he was one of the robbers or not only the old man can tell us." The surgeon said this in low tones to one of the men, and then he proceeded again to speak to Jonas. "Can^you give us no account?" he said, placing his hand upon the old man's shoulder, and • trying ; to/-get the4 instrument of death out of his grasp',~for..he had again taken, up the empty -weapons and < .pointed it:,at,*, every person who entered;: "*' , '\ *' It could not be ^done without-.inflicting some pain and using great force;*fon every-attempt to remove it caused the old man tö -;grasp it still more powerfully. He sat looking towards the door, with a stony, hard gaze, as though he expected to see some one enter, and, at the slightest noise, he raised the pistol, as if in the act of firing. "I am fearful that this has been such a shock to him as to deprive him of speech and senses. Speak to him, my good woman. Per- haps the voice that he is the most accustomed to hear may awaken his dormant faculties." The woman thus addressed rose from a seat she had taken, and went up to him. "Mr. Humbleback," she said, in a tone so hollow as to cause the surgeon to turn round and sharply eye her, "why don't you speak? You know me—I am Mary. No one shall harm you, old as I am, while I am near you." But there was not the slightest response to this appeal. He tt 11 sat like a statue. Even the loud knock that came to the door, and which at any other time would have startled him out of his senses, seemed not to have the slightest effect upon him. The street door was opened by one of the men, and admitted Inspector Hawk and the boy Head-over-heels. The sight was a very appalling one, even to them, used as they were to scenes of horror and misery. At the first glance of the lifeless body the boy clung to the side of the inspector, and pointing to it, whispered— "I am blest if that ain't Luke Craft." "Luke Craft !" replied the man. "Yes, that's Luke Craft," said Mary; "his own nevvy, that he has shot." "He has a mother, has he not ?" asked Hawk. "Yes ; and I know where she lives," said the boy. "Then come with me. We must, at least, let her know." They at once departed to break the awful news to the poor bereaved mother. They had scarcely left the house, when all in the room were startled by the sudden falling of the pistol upon the floor, as, with a hollow groan, the man who had lived so long amassing wealth fell back in his chair dead. ***** We pass over the frantic grief of the horror- stricken mother of Luke when she arrived at the scene and witnessed the awful sight. The inquest called by the coroner's warrant came only to one conclusion, and that was arrived at by the bullet found in the body of the hapless boy exactly fitting the pistol that had been found in the hand of the uncle. As no evidence came out upon the inquest that Luke was in any way implicated in the attempt at robbery, they thought that he had met bis death in attempting to defend his uncle. A ver- dict of misadventure was, therefore, given in his case, and of sudden death in that of his uncle; and shortly afterwards they were laid in one grave. All the wealth that her unworthy brother had spent a life of privation and misery in amassing came into the possession of his broken-hearted sister. Then she went back to the little house that she had once lived in so happily, taking with her the old servant, Mary, who, from her age and the shock she had received, lapsed into a drivelling imbecile, and very soon followed the master she had so long served to the last resting place. While these sad events were taking place, Hawk was busy in getting up evidence to bring old Jack Pepper to justice as a receiver of stolen property. But in,, this case Hawk had one to deal with quite as vigilant as himself. , Upon the first news of the failure of the bur- glary at the factory, and hearing that his hope- ful nephew had been recognised,' the wily fellow saw that he had no time to lose." "He -will betray me and the rest," lie muttered. "Luckily, I am prepared. I have ,not been i dreaming; that good luck was always to'last— no, no! I have always thought that, when the sun is shining, it is just as well to look out for a ! squall. It has come, at last—or, at least, it looks i very like it—but they won't catch me napping." [ He could tell that he was narrowly watched, for strangers were hovering round the premises, , and came into the place to sell things, i "Iam not going to fall into that trap," he ! muttered, as he steadily refused to purchase. To all who came he briefly said, "The disgrace that bad, wicked boy has brought upon me is too much for me. I have ■ worked hard and honestly to gain a living, and i I can never hold up my head again in the place I shall sell off." He did not say that he should go off, but such was his secret determination. In order to blind the men who were hunting ; him down, he put up a bill in his window, bear- 1 ing the words, "This business to be sold." i The police had no positive information against him, and Hawk was almost hourly with young î Jack, putting questions to him, and holding out hopes. , But that young gentleman, knowing in what [ way his-only chance of safety lay, very wisely ï held his tongue. Old Jack thought he could trust, his nephew, , and in that he was not far out. But, then, what of Bill Skinner? He stood in the worst position, having been for a second ► time entrusted with a ticket-of-leave—which, of I course, he had broken^-and it would go hard witëf him. Any promise held out and Bill would cling to > that, as the drowning mariner clings to the drifting spar. "No, no," muttered the old man, "in all cases of danger, there is nothing like trusting to your- } self, and, sink or swim, I'll do it. All is ready, knowing that, some day or other, the crash . would come." ! At the usual hour, and with the same slow care and deliberation, the shutters of the old rag and ; bone shop were put up, the neighbours round little suspecting that it was for the last time. I The men who were on the watch only knew of ■ one entrance—namely, the front one—but old L Jack knew where there was another. : He had long since conveyed his wealth into a February 1, 1670 } 159 BOYS OF ENGLAND far-off place, with the exception of a, sum of J money which he carried about with him. The place and all it contained was insured, just I for form's sake; but that he did not care about. | A profound stillness reigned in the neighbour-! hood, and the men left there to watch were standing at the far end of thé street, deep in conversation., In one moment л red glare flashed up into the heavens. The next instant there rang through the streets the startling cry of "Fire! fire 1" Old Jack'Pepper's shop and warehouses were in an instanten a fierce, scathing flame from one end to the other. The place had been well prepared for the blaze. Barrels of tar and some hundredweights of grease fed the flame, and sent forth such a red heat as to keep, not only the firemen, but the excited spectators, at a respectable distance. Then came a smart explosion, that sent the timbers whirling, up in the air. "Be careful what you are about 1" cried a man in the crowd. "The; old fellow has paraffin and gunpowder in large quantities about the place." "He is inside." shouted r detective. The next moment a couple' of brave firemen had sprung forward, and,, with ■ axe in hand, were dealing heavy blows upon the door and shutters; but no impression could- thcy make upon them. Still.they kept, undauntedly to their'labour. While so engaged, the «man who hadí spoken before, and who was one - of íJackíPépper's; rag- sorters, cried Out,- f- "I tell youyyou had.,hetter.gct out of the way Í There's paraffin enough to blow the whole place out" Scarcely had he uttered the words, when there was á fearful roar heard, and the whole front of the house came whirling into the street. Luckily, the firemen, who are always upon the alert and alive to danger, sprang out of the way, escaping with a few bruises. Then, to those who stood close enough, could the dread scene of. the conflagration be seen. From, one end of 'the place to the other was one immense cauldron of fierce, roaring flame; then came another explosion, that seemed to shake the whole place to "its foundation*., A tall shaft, belonging to a factory near, was levelled to the ground, and came crashing down through фе roof,.bearing, álhbefore.it.*; The mob fled'; in allxdirections, and,' -'at one time, the people thought that'.the whole neigh- bourhood was doomed to destruction. For hours.: and bdurs the fire raged with a fury somewhat awful, and all that the firemen could do was to keep it from extending ; but the place was densely populated, end other buildings caught' as thougtr they were matchwood. The scene then became more intensely pain- ful, owing,to'the screams and cries of the, women and children who were being burnt out of their homes, rv; • t It was;not until the next day that the fire at 'all abated,,and then the entire, premises, and twenty others adjoining, were a mass, of -charred and smouldering ruin. • "The. old fellow-has-perished in the ruins, and so escaped lis," said Jem Hawk.' The "old..fellow," on,the seeoncldaybf the fire, was sately.on the,way to Melbourne.. He had read the-account of the. fire, just as the ship was on thé point of .sailing,'-and chuckled to himself; at the, account о'Шз death. The loss of life and misery he had caused had no effect upon himu "I have left them something toтет ember -me by," he said. The vessel sailed, but must have'foundered at sea, for, from that hour to this, ,ghe . was never heard of, and old Jack Pepper met his reward. It is needless to say that the' events connected with Luke Craft's death caused, great sorrow to all who had known him. Bob and his master strove all they could to lighten the sorrows of the widow and childless "woman, and partially succeeded as time wore on. Winter had set in, the factory was in full work, although it had stood a narrow chance of being.destroyed by the fire, when one evening a happy party were seated at the little cottage at Stockwell—old John Stout and the Dame, Bob, Polly Warner, Charley Mason, and the Widow Craft. "Well, Bob," said the old man, "in two months you will be out of your time; what is your plan for the future?" "Well, sir, I think of emigrating." And Bob looked askance at Polly. "My goodness gracious 1" said Mrs. Stout,, dropping her cup of hot tea upon the gouty foot of her husband. "Is the boy mad Г "No ; but I think you are," roared the old man. "I think Bob had . better stop at home," chimed in Polly. "Arolling stone gathers no moss." "I'll stop at home it" you ask me, Polly," replied Bob. "Me," said Pólly, with an affected surprise;- "what on earth have I got to do with it 1 Well, in all,my life"" *' I don't like your hatred of me, Polly." "Why, bless the boy, he is dreaming. I hate you! 1 don't hate you." "There, there, I thought as.much," said the energetic Mrs. Stout* "I tell you, Bob, she was only teasing you all the time. Emigrate, in* deed Г "If Polly will only ask me to stop, 1*11" "Oh, if it depends upon me, why, I should say" "What, what I " and, Bob started up from his chair. "Oh, stop, by all means; don't let me send you abroad." "Will you give me your hand!appn it,/PolIy V said the enraptured lad; -V -, /• -¿ "Oh, certainly; if it. makes^any /difference thereat is," and she held it outjrwhiie ,her .dear littld'eyes shone like stars. "■■■yY. ?" And youT hearty Polly 2" * r '' "I&^ a- matter for future. consideration,".Vas the reply. - The matter urn taken into consideration at once. "I shall take Bob into partnership with me at Christmas," remarked Mr. Stout'; "for if it had not been for his happy thought of the bicycle we should not have been here." "This good fortune is more than I deserve," replied Bob. "It is not," said the old man, warmly. "A good, honest, industrious lad can never be too well or toó much rewarded ,* and if ever a master has, had cause to thank a good, honest apprentice, I am that man .; and I hope the happiness you have made for others will through life be redoubled upon you and yours, Bicycle Bob." Charley Mason, in the enthusiasm of the moment; jumped up and gave a loud hurrah. At Christmas Bob and Polly'were married, amidst the warm congratulations of all who knew them, far and wide. Jack Pepper and his associate were located in the healthy spot of Portland for a number of years. Head-over-heels joined a travelling circus, and became famous in his day. For years, the; old factory went on prosper- ously, and in the*centre of it hung the famous bicycle; and when anything used to go wrong among either4 the boys or the. . men, Charley Mason,- now the foreman, would point to it and impressively say, " Remember Bicycle Bob." READY THIS DAY. NO. 3 OF ALONE IN THE PIRATES' LAIR. With this favourite work will be given, from time to time, Full-Length Portraits of the principal characters on plate paper. The work is printed on Toned Paper, from a New Fount op Туре, and, аз the work Is intended for binding, as an ornament to the library shelves, the numbers and date, from week to week, will be printed along the back of the book, instead of on the front page as usual, thereby preventing any disfigurement. PRICE ONE PENNT WEEKLY. Those who desire to take in this favourite work, should give their orders at once to their booksellers, as it will be only supplied TO ORDER. ANSWERS TO CRACKERS No. Ш. I. Who Shall be Leader?; Nash, read, bold, dress, lead, bleed, bower, ear, brass, roar. II- Newmarket; net, tea, water, Kent, arm, tear, ten. III. Reginald Seymour; Rhine, Essex, Gal way, India, Norwich, Ayr, Louth, Dove, Stromstad, Eton, Yunnan, Munster, Oder, Ustanio, Rams- gate. IV. Black Darvil. V. Constantinople; tin, apple, potato, snipe, coal, Anne. VL The Miser's Son; Trent, Hat, Exeter, Marthaj Ipswich, Stock, Eleven,Rome, Silver, S wallow,. Ohio, Nile.' VII. Harry Ardenf HudsoN, Ar- deN, RêtforD, RadnoR, Yum A. VIIL Bruce; BarB, RussiA, UnlocK, ClarE; ExeteR. IX. Birmingham. X. Lord Mounteagle; Limpid, Omer, Ravel, Delhi, Mixture, Ostrich, Umbrella, Naiad, Tankard, Elect, Anecdote, Gravel, Lavender. XI. Nightshade the Poacher; dragoon, score, curt, poaching, George, Trent, heart, stage, standard, height. m G RAT M A R I E В У С I С L E GARIBALDI СATA L RT VALSE ADA I NO. 12 OP THE GIPSYrBÖY READY THIS DAY. PRICE ONE PENNY. ALSO PART Щ. Containing Four Numbers, Price 4d; A SPLENDID NEW YEAR'S GIFT! THE SIXTH VOLUME OP THE "BOYS OF ENGLAND." Elegantly bound. Price 4s. РАМ XXXVII. of the BOYS OF ENGLAND . IS NOW READY;. V Containing ц:1 ;у • THE CHUISTMAÍS/ÍÑITMBER. PRICE Cd.; OR,'BY POST, 7T. Brett's Stage for the Bors of England, Young - Hen; of> Great Britain, and Boys of the World.'M * Any Stages that do not. bear the, above notice are only' imitations of his Stages, and our Readers are requested not to purchase them. -* ■■■■ r TO OTTR READERS t Mr, Brett wishes his Readers to understand that if any handbills have been inserted in his Worlcs^they- have been placed there without his knowledge or authority, by some person who has' talcen a mean advantage oj the popularity of ¿he "BOYS OF ENGLAND? "Y0ÜNG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN? and "boys of тля world;' Those three Works being the-onh ones Mr. Brett is connected with. MR. EDWIN J. BRETT Wishes to inform his readers, in- acknowledgment of the great favour bestowed upon this Journal by all classes, that, he intends to present Gratis . A SERIES OF MAGNIFICENT GIFTS, to be continued week by week, of a most novel, amusing, and instructive kind. . Farther particulars of the Gifts will be given next week. BOYS OF ENGLAND. ,c:¡" vi у i, b: ROBIN H00Ö Ш HIS MERRY ME!, л,\Ч'1 Titi; тику pí.v^ ко i.v тш; oukün- V; í. ;-0л bK 'I./ a ■ Au;l¡ 'г - o(aa< < 'ul'v, , ' а . i':! ¡;;.(k'íuk'j to h л ni и; 'Га !т ■.V W i y ¡ai; i аашкао í;í-* т.тау osabiaa ta-;oaa ¡L i., ,,t 0 ib" i a b baOlb ,! V\t - 0 i 'а;' it,,-, * Т-л., Va •; i';.--;.' y¡ Y Y m » b>« а ab- b aba 01b "-i ,.t-i.'"i ^ , : : Ы . b • <; bal .v.Y: .Y о аат •"•■>! r.kbr Y :)', i a •. << a lúa ■ aw r b, *Y;<'ad iby bO, • l-4v.-,r-| ;aai 0 „'¡4N r. a",-! j '••V ; » t, ;,:,.] ba'.aa • и a а-y 'n ^'îh y , - V.iii.'l! Y ihr b:< K.-:i ÎOVe-Ш! seated in i.■♦.••¡t-:.. about tea ser- vants brought 11 ,< л:»- b»"'í anda gigantic paddíny for "We believ- ed fait;.";у v. -.All; Lai , и; vví-r»• то a, oj;r jv'-tconhi a i4'-r ami imsti't-ÄS rauta bom- aud caught г.,,^4)Vt?riug и.ло that гона»* ?i a*-ven had aal stoYo all iba jila;»' wbba: иo w»'n* ;/. bbbb;, íi«.;ir Ym, TYaf" wa- :» of brandy g a hut, in Iii.- л\ч>«Y \ a!o oí i h'1 yraeava ad irci', ÎY.»/ ta m >■ aerada.* y • -ob i'--'.' % ;nrüi-;íi ; T wbb bible-, "i.'ííiv, *vc, i:¡:iüi¡:'.tc- by гЬлтрЫтег ont of the wor.1 thrr n?t !>"-:'.!>•'. :' * - y ;¡ :.rvt"ü y ü-t- --.i'-h"- ir* - * ■ i. U'iji»i:br»,x v;:,!;u;.:h, 'Пнмг '.vay Ь*;П.^ Ut ñl\v:l «Л1; at •)íí^'í. aini, }»..гЬа{».ч. t-lu-y wouldn't f'/î" .v'V.-«r;Ü Ь"НГ-: Ъп; vv'n'U t'wy dût ibi,;)' •л"Г" al,-.:iv'- гньттг 'Д'кы, j..'a;>s-:í# нч{ц ;лП ,-<и:Ьл ll<»\v tln'.y 1:я;г;у, .;ibч>!,'('1-:>; l\ w;i - by f r;<1. h,î t,bi J/iatï н{* ^«Г''-'Ь//>, í!;.íí'¡ by 4 rv;rb:c } . ¡ %«'b! • л. N л\ t'a- с. U-jíll drtiw ím'üilíUa'íúüa, ,ii,d iL;.-) riid^i at саек till lbe fttr.js-.Jr b-'u;tu !>/ iocl .яуЛЬигД bul 'y/ib ;ин1 - if }■<< ЬдЬ bib- -',:> M-.'fb v,;b,bj 11' n'-' i >•* '* y»-' -*r;'.« I. >\ '■•;ùv у '<■ fib г ib i>; » ;b ■ - J Ь;н b,b'ir«."^'---if -, u*r,- ;,,t, ч f'-v-rb' îri-b-;.. Y-.; nr.? ju-'.t, tb- "nf b.íb/л* I va::t, Let !ix k'>w rot/ r-Hs ,-b.n,1?" <• 't:':ih">r 'b'a 0 ;> ¡ ,-.\ «]'•< •• bc'M'.br.' "' vrr t.u /!у .и*-'! nas^ul íí, U',\vaUt4.!h —o: *• Jira г-.'. !" ''.i' b R'bbn; 4* y-.ii".! «lo. \V'Ii;tî a \o\:,, ¡i;Ují»% a)}*í wb-T<: Oí >"<.'Н О'».: V. lü.íi ;,i;„ 0«»íjíf 'b" My в:ш/," r«*î î;*'•(! дггап^п.г, " i? Brow:, son «.f ili^wji ч*:Ь'.г', ¡,«f tb,«- wi/r'ib-ivfwj-.vrü'd J'c.ii m: ;,? ft,b.;i;i ш;Ь Jmuí¡ lío,-л ,b^;,;,,, ii;b !i./ji'¡w. !; bi "í \(íi f i ''Г- ,!l!«"b' í( I o--«[,<'<;, ür.b, ío :¡iy :. " Mtíoü,,- 1 / b >b,l oí i.lo- b-1/ «.f ÜOÜÍft:. ¡ "Mi, hnsb *':r/is<' ab-, j;;i*f bb ■ -o! vbi» í'OlHy klHtck' b /;v»ír »Mir ííí <0',»r in; 5 ir'л ':;V bo •• ba , ; г 'по, 1 ko v \ M' ■ ib' »b,b ;b b,-, '- 0!. - ^lO-O, 'Л !, i «л,» yr^i.o^ i" .-!! I'b'ky; br; « i ! i !((( >,a : - o,bl - - О a.''-миц;, , yh;V< ,; "'i.niy 0''; bu .', N';iî ч-r , .i, jfbiv ;'o- i/. b tv.-i: :bob»-«! Ш.Robin,; b.O; ■Mlly V«. д;0 ;t i ¡lt it 4,tO.'»% os;a <•!.., aini î\;bab:y ike р.ни. bid uaivs. if you like tbruwin;,,', :i bbl^kinyb)! U-.li at br,b¡> i\ I bro'O'.i, anil I am fb'i<'n;biH*b I • v.orb? ■ ■ -r;. •!,-■ / , v.î, b,*'.ift but b v< b' tb-< f,ï4-:j 'лы1 ?0.0 . wo , •* Wüv, ¡bn tb>: vi;ry id.'Tií.ioaí o.b:\íb';;b í.O;,obib" • ¡b b U..bbo "* O- 0;) лО'а -4 Y-o: 1Л<- bo:y io-.o. UbTíiano Hurray!" b.'^bi* obraba'1 b ''f/b;/L-a "ib bo.d "ay ,-а)"лу,'-' Y- b" 'Yia'bd join 1 í .-м- party, 'Л ьо pO'U'.e Г' »í»":ib»;i\" ,.,b'.! lb,<- :."*.•'»-'./aa- , (чЬа! П! íifii'-n;'.'!- b,M-:bb-«i Mr. Üi./'.vo, ía;f cb.aii' iav 0",{a>' íu~Oí, . h¡, ( ,.(•, wj',0 -b;ib ¡i !b'' Wbyb* ratura* b Ib.ibiío "Mak-.- _ar.;r a im* ba..-:;! yt^ar 'OYakiay-, aab Ia;o<»atü Sr,'ri<(t m ny.ui * ', YO* ."v;; t)i..ÍY -abat y*>.v.«aï'.:«î Kabía at,- ib-, sbb badad -ay-,,0 t " . bao.-- í.,¡ ; s b./,b, íí -a, ( Aisd Beertet Will, we three A < f va v»»: О • b: a 10'' 0< г »лОЛ. Oaa!. 1 aa«! a ■ j Mif'0'0 v. r,b s;1-, ;o --.H'- a b*" ,>/ra l;<0; "...a. l • * a* a*'i 1*0. ^*'." liad •оj'y tkuíji !" or; -b Julia , * bat ai, y- %,;\ ,. j"->"vtb'!. a'ad он 1 /" "от -rnrnb!, I'm p-^tty «т*л, frorn íh« van! "o;oí он\ thai y..*¡ aao 'b'a..,- :••.■>ин< •"b (J.'y vvo;ip< ,a - ',;> i.iy ;b"s i 'i - Y' ,,,;,>i ^ ООО пг", :trr«"'A a only a b. O. a>«vb -ца/, "ooa- iw.'.v- of У b f-r oyv part, I bYbov,; ¡a ,а-\" а«.о1 Litíb- . i ¡íí /^o 'an ]¿-.bb' , Yo a'-.- .0 i'ruvabao.utíy IO-,! .„-,i*u ■ ;,a,ïo*i'bi * bn !;0.* pocket, so vaYO Av.i Ni at м'Ма.'у 'tby y,y, lí í î - ; o J-Y4*' • , . ■ , Ya} .rd ;апл • r,¡- ',, s }'•■'- wiutL а,-, е.ш bn" ^■tld in'biio YO, Yi инл way ïbbaa ¡ !•>••*ту ïtkoly b Yav be îiî'O, í:o rt-j4tjt"L îîr.Oby. to ,0 aiai -"iH/aiiay, U> ь--г»* bia. 'Yr a îary, find lbs mvti fc#íu aiHÎ ни^аг, and take a aban ,.)! iba «lat;;^.- - :aai i-híI - oí í Y-т bb-, Th<0"<' Wüb Л!а..-.!-1 JY- . a ¡aíairt o-!, aab onoi «d Ьт O'tt tarned «;y. ' (.rb.;"b»al Clir.Mf-, *лЬ м^К-Ьщ haapoa.-d t«, r ïo," - fbt/re Tras Midcta or Much, ikc millo y, aalb*. a, (>-iU v h'1 'л- 4 '-"b i 'vf,vl j, • ,v¡ • t',a-'. ЛЬс» Artími-a-r-bind. a Turner, who, hew ,.v«t, ^«^Torth a pnr4 jjp.... f tian ,fl/. ever, wanii i- y_i'^ai. iv* oe íonniitl» and maiiv utkt.:.- 0''b-oay tb.- r*'.-Yra!': bY-ab, o;;mY,-. 1 fc« o-' íJí- '-'i'ok a y o . bav , . ( He vais a u Fnar of iirdvrs ^brey," and also i ay-^ «' '-a' • ¡O' f 'aal •Jo-.u-d- b.ívira», tai.1 goo< /Va'/; .'-i. ibar band, 'día uutíavv* wem able to nav isrsiîv a y;aod Т ,;ъ',, 1Ya-,, ум: • - с, í Y< aiOlaia; fa; a,ad. .|aao ^ /b- n?'M>>¡„^ tna^dy лг,тро-ан1 of fírifisk И orß;ntt>ft. _ > íi-ab v«t;, '-»!!у a: Iba; í< ra-', ry*»*:Д • vo:*> ííoiiy Yic) vaantao. bí.'.-atie.-, a go'aí d'-ab iba' oí ">íbb Ii"''''! , b.fTfb; '\"\\> í" b •'.'!;' í" Y. a:oJ b 'bb ЬГа 01 . "ь'О, ', Ылш и 1, Wo. 162 [Мапсп 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. The small boy, anxious to distinguish himself, i and win golden opinions from his superiors, darted off, and found that the two struggling figures were— Harry, the London waif, And, A black-whiskered individual, respectable as regards costume, but disreputable in respect to facial expression. "Surrender, villain!" said Webber, seizing the black-whiskered gentleman (?) by the coat collar. "Get out of this, you muff !" was the response, and young Webber received a blow which set all his teeth rattling, and landed him some six or eight feet from the scene of conflict. ** What an uncivil brigand," muttered Webber, ás Frank Egerton, the Earl of Pcmbridge, and Doctor Moeritz collared his assailant. The struggle that ensued was brief. The bbek-whiskcred gentleman yielded to superior numbers, arid the two extra policemen (who, of course, were not on the spot when most wanted) handcuffed him and led him off to the ^station. "Don't worry yourselves, ГЦ go quietly enough," the boys heard him say. u I can"pro- ducc several very respectable townsmen to speak as to my character." "Delighted to hear it," responded the police, who, however, kept a tight hold, the prisoner not being known to tbcm. Then the King of the School and his com- panions went back to their beds, well satisfied with their night's work; but, of course, the news quickly spread through the building. In a very few minutes every one in the place knew what had taken place. Most of them sleep well, but there was one to whom the hours of darkness were a terror. His sleep was haunted by dreams of the most fearful kind. In the morning all those who had assisted in the capture of the supposed burglar, attended at the magistrates'office. The sapient landed gentry who dispensed justice in Ballsbury, sat only three times a week, but it so happened that this was one o% the days. Doctor Whackley was there, with Professor Moeritz, and half-a-dozen pupils from Lexicon College; and after one or two cases of turnip stealing had received their just punishment, in the shape of six months imprisonment for each offence, the great prisoner of the day was placed in the dock. The /charge was, being found loitering about the premises of Doctor John Whackley with intent to commit a felony. . V Having heard the statements of ;the witnesses who captured him, the senior magistrate said— «Havo you апУ defence to make, prisoner?" "Certainly." "Well, then, let's hear it." "I wish, in the first place, to say that I had ь not the slightest intention of committing any felony, either at Doctor Whackley's school or elsewhere. I am a commercial traveller; the police hold papers showing who I am, and the name of the firm I represent.'' "Is that so?" demanded the magistrate, ap- pealing to the superintendent of constabulary. "We, certainly found these papers on him, sir," replied the officer, handing in a variety of accounts against several tradespeople of the town, price lists, letters, and other commercial items. "Have you not been to the 'Red Lion' to inspect ray luggage ?" asked the prisoner. "Yes." "What did you find there more than my samples, books, and wearing apparel?" "Nothing." "You did not find any skeleton keys or house-breaking implements of any kind?" "•No." f'Did you find any about me when I was brought to the station-house?" "No." i' Then I have not much more to say except that Tf being a commercial traveller, am well known to the landlord pf the 'Bed Lion' and several other tradesmen of the town. I don't see them in court, although I asked the police to request them to attend." "Did you go to the people mentioned by the prisoner?" asked the magistrate, turning to the police-sergeant who had been on duty the pre- vious night. "No, sir, I had no time—three drunken cases brought in this morning." "I also requested you to telegraph to London to my employers. Was that done?" inquired the prisoner. "Yes; the message was sent two hours ago." At that moment a boy from the telegraph office elbowed his way into the court, and handed a paper to the sergeant, who, after reading it, said, "This is the answer, your worship." "Bead it aloud." "From Wilkins and Co., Cheapside, to Police- sergeant Jenkins, Ballsbury. — Mr. Wilkins, junior, will be at.Ballsbury, 3.15 p.m." -"-Then," said, the senior magistrate, " the pri- soner had better be brought up again at half- past three." "Perhaps your worship will instruct the police to call upon certain tradesmen I named to them, anoTfequest tfieir attendance?" "Certainly ; the police will see to it." The prisoner was then removed, and Doctor Whackley's pupils returned to Lexicon College, delighted at the idea of escaping for a whole day from lessons. They were required to attend at the second examination of the prisoner. At half-past three in the afternoon the court- room in the Httlc town hall was thronged with, people anxious to know how this strange ca^e would terminate. Just as the magistrates took their seats, a sharp-featured, sharp-eyed gentleman sat down at the table appropriated to the legal profes- sion. "Mr. Ferret, solicitor to the firm of Wilkins and Co. Mr. Wilkins, junior, is in court," he replied, in answer to the whispered interrogation of the magistrates' clerk. The superintendent overheard the words, and began to tremble for his reputation as an active, intelligent officer. A dozen witnesses then came forward to prove that the prisoner was Mr. Hall, and that he had been for years traveller for the firm of Wilkins and Company, the junior partner of that firm giving evidence to the same effect. "I think, sir, there is no reason for detaining the prisoner in the dock, where he would ■ never have been placed, but for the gross stupidity of certain persons," observed Ferret, glancing at the little group of police. "Certainly not—that is, if the prisoner can give any satisfactory reason for his being in the College grounds at that late hour." Superintendent and sergeant give each other knowing looks, as much as to ~say—?" Ah, our magistrate/if he is a country gentleman, won't allow "this pert London lawyer to have it all his own way. I wonder how he'll explain it." They were not kept many seconds in suspense, for Mr. Hall immediately replied— "I had been to the * Six Bells/ to see the landlord, who is a very old friend. I stayed at his house till midnight, and was returning to the * Bed Lion' when I missed my way, and found that I was wandering about the cathedral grounds. I was trying to find the roadway when some one seized me, then a lot of hoys camc.upVand last of all two policemen." *'.'.*. The host of the " Six Bvells ?'-was then called by Mr. Ferret, and testified that Mr.* Half left his house only about twenty minutes before he was captured. "Quite sufficient," said the presiding magis- trate. "Thc^prisoner.is dismissed, without a stain upon his character. At the same time I must caution him—ah—humph—-not to do it again." "Not to do what, may I ask, sir?" demanded Mr. Ferret. The magistrate frowned, and the schoolboys tittered, but the London lawyer pressed his question. "Not to be found in the grounds of Lexicon College after midnight. That's what I mean, sir/* And then the prisoner was dismissed; it hav- ing been established beyond doubt that he was a respectable commercial traveller and not a burglar. Thé next day Baynes received a letter. He turned deadly pale as he read it, and then, having struck a lucifer match, burnt it with the greatest care. CHAPTEB VI. A NOBLE ACTION. About ^a hundred yards- from Lexicon College was a river, where, in the summer months, the young collegians bathed, and held their rowing matches. The stream was very curved in form, apt! one of its bends was the natural boundary of three- fourths of the circumference of the ancient city of Ballsbury. It should be mentioned, however, that only those who could swim well were allowed to bathe in, or row on this river; those who could not being restricted to a tributary stream, whoso greatest depth was about four feet. Of course Frank Egerton could swim like an otter, and, of course, was allowed to uso the big stream. • One afternoon ,he happened to be walking along its banks alone..- Lord Pcmbridge had gone for a long ride, Fitzgerald was deeply .engaged in the study of Julius Caesar, having-, been pronounced deficient in knowledge of that' noble Roman; Marsham had gone up to the "Six,Bells" to prove, by actual experiment, how many rats his terriers could kill in twenty, minutes ;-Crawley was known to be engaged witlvCaptain Robinson at the billiard rooms, and others :'were;çngagcd in amusements for which Frank Egerton had not much taste. So he resolved to walk down to the boat-house, row to Brightford (a village about three miles up stream), and persuade an bid boatman there to give the Lexicon eight some professional training for their annual match. He started across the meadow, sauntering along very slowly. • - Suddenly a loud scream caused him to lift up his head and stare round. The cry was repeated. Apparently it proceeded from a part of the river,,a couple of hundred yards above tjie boat- house." *! Frank instantly changed' his course, and hurried towards that part ,of ^the river from which the cries seemed to сотсл \ As soon as he reached the brink of the stream the cause of the commotion became apparent. In the middle of the water wasa boat,(kcel upwards, to which clung an old man. Л A few yards from him, and being gradually carried away by the. current, was ;a young girl struggling ..violently to reach the bank, and uttering fröni\time to time the piercing shrieks that had alarmed him. :' One glance г was sufficient to enable him to comprehend the state of affairs. Л' In.an instant Frank threw* off his jacket, f< Keep yourself afloat a minute "longer," said he.';; ■ * T'-v:V.; "/. Then in he plunged., . ¿i - * * ;v: > 4 r- It^was easy enough to-reach the girl, but-to rescue4her was a more difficult matter., '•• Уф:;:, , -The poor creature, in ' her 'extreme .terror, grasped .wildly at .his arms as he approached. "if you do that, .we shall both be drowned," he said. You must wait till I turn my Ijack towards yon ; then put a'hand'ou each shoulder; but if you cling .close to me Jjshall not be able to swim." ,7*.7 The girl made no reply, but} it?was evident from her look that she understood: < Five seconds, afterwards Frank was swimming with her towards shore,- -a,.matter of some difficulty, as, in spite of his- exhortations, sho kept so close as to greatly impede his move- ments. *•. At length,' however, he had the satisfaction of landing her upon the bank. Though "much exhausted, the girl was not un- conscious. "My father !" she exclaimed, pointingpitcously MARCp I, 1670.1 163 BOYS OF ENGLAND. towards the old man, who still clung to the boat. *' Oh, save him, sir I .Save him .if,y ou can 1 Pray ■cave him!" "I mean to," was Frank's simple response, as he again dashed into the stream. "Hold fast 1" he exclaimed, and commenced pushing the boat before him towards shore. The gallant deed was done. Two lives had been rescued by the King of the School! As the weather was tolerably warm, neither the man nor his daughter had received much injury from their immersion, beyond the fright, and in a ;£ew minutes they were able to walk away'towards the town. Frank cut short the profuse thanks they showered upon him, and hurried off to Lexicon College to change his clothes. The Rev. John Whackley was walking up and — . "Let's go out to the 'Six Bells' and get a lot of rats and see the beauties kill them," suggested Webber. "That's a rather low occupation," suggested '! räumt* Mmm: îh" sain*' priva. ar Mama aaanrdad to any ■M'iw<<:l'»'i!ow* к M iord.knn might chousn to accompany him, | LcaMioH«-;:* was p«TÍ'"H;v :*¿tt* ►ïîï-îhhI b> Яш I _ V.iv JaMm- ami oí flu- rnomn o J Ft \v;\s net mmemny to **»г<*Ь клрл: mv n ! that m> mattm* how Im ai.oworvi hi-, hlrnvm m*, l&b^'lfc tabbh cohiiry was tljsr, дч-?\м1—a s./i'";»»s «>í hrW ( matter {,• .w a "Mu l'y Im hmnied, im abo1 г, !Î Ví1 or ч ¡ X fool ар; ti i. ;m;mho»| ¡.i- am ара а.нМ Л nm, V, t ,u "vrr i.ich hob;, tb<- primnk'k: f mal ':«■* '-pm -, ,¡¡1,1 i <, n make if. o¡;!. alonan batmo оЬьшvod, j 11 i.s own Mpht nrm had boon \v«*il panbMni Thea the kmg-budial, plnk-eycii Icrret wüü j £гощ th« wnm right up U» Un; shoulder, ont down ;tí Muí umv, i: of on»- of Ми* holes, mío j He pm w wbd and dovpopam, ami, nmo-oipmib hn п-ямат* v.hbtb he Yi;vy «ii'hbiTat'oy walked. ier<-ivod muro рчпшти nt knm b'd*< 4 ardían» Imhi np k- hand hmmña.-v ^iloifi-, mamavad ^ «i-¡ard Ьн A лимит eíapsab, пааа а ram :m ta «¡su w%« | ttasted t.Mb* -.trench oí kmb ami mm,í to vremy bdh ns of Mm e.apUnbaíoís of t ':jí;o, .'oüí Mj иеаЫ undtîr fwt. j ÍTofcs^or M<<.tUz, mid at ía.4 Ьгоак ií;oj;,;;;;h h« 7 • v/L'-ir of í>- {•'n-nch (г^нр. rvínniat*"! I'.'.;vpt, "Hush î" , , , j ímnni Thru, wíM) a b*MiTJ'i, 'л íbe wloo^iriP,.,! r.'ihbh, 1 Put 1/>:нborlrgn, on f! ;<"ap« »I liorhi 2Jil<» NlH' t.¡' "il," Ыjï S f. ,И1 ;î ,: * -,:п- ч M'P.Oi, ,>' р!, îi<- î , \ï';<,ïi v,i\i\ y,, o.p«', 'j-' ;y! • • < "!,<•! pr-'-liy WML ,'ih'i 1 of ";•, 1,1 .-un-* !|/!«т Ми* ^:t\ o»; M и ГОМ • í ?' V," 'i o>p:Pvofí of tiio Ргоы'Ь iromii.;!' о тлр\ avi;i, r«'.'k«-n-'M ' i' ''nm.ro » P,:o ^ii, : i'r-'ümínan'^ ьГ poan,o hi4\wHi all ihr bell— ■ V. V.o. :i i f.xw'I'tí^n i г Tin; in л i) "Vt% a kicking HÍ.ru^üh;,' prisoifr. I Profr.,^jr .Mo<.;rit7, f Marwhínn puí Ыч fum ириа ?h«-huhf U*pr"Vont ! .--wnïsfitan t«> ,ч|1о'л' :in.î forr-t from fo'i'ownp^p * j tako phmc, Ilm!) Im took out Mm prisoner and Mirow if;,- J\,> t-,n\v wairiîd f. rr <íl! aliw, ihío a î;um -a"k. ;soon c:wV: tlieii h il A Îmv sooonds af forwards another net contained * scmidixl vMth terrible i. capí Ivo, fboîi nao Ms or, j M,о ].(-ороР;ч !ioad, Tkoïi Mie íorrrt oam«- oui. and Mm o:»M 4tnr-! |,1-аИнл'кнг<. half mvîî'd thai V.wy sboidd ?-y ;hioMioí !o«:¡du.y. | di^-m-d up.at o.'oo They did su with щтй auwx*. ¡ held up his ктиЫ ii l'ait suddenly cranio ;,n iiitmTUpfi««n, "ш i'"d. Four of ib'.- hurly-b'oí.m;.' m»m- яи-'ооп'у нр- pear^d пргт тЬ^ р^^пр. and, in г«г, т-,у "''"«M ■ ! опт;, doüia.O'i« d — "What aу«>и уо;тл p.'.-a-íiin'/ ги*гаЬ <;«а*т;-| Í1;» го Г" *4U;mi(,\ that's ^ood," охо lai mod Kemrftim "I 4hotiki advjM* you t*1 ko p a m\ii t,»b:'i;o h, y#ar or jmi may кто y«.»ur«i*h' roooivio;: ,-t k'-M-îî," ^ ... ioimr from S.piin; ( *" Who j> ..■- or<; o.f Mo- k.;mp< r. ► pio mid krimt' Ï Will/' '^ohoiOÜVPoWM. (-'на 1 "Alt, yon sail no fkMk !*' oiodryrnod Mm* *,v<41- " Tmath'-rb-jK?" i;iKHvn volco of M-n-J.-r Mo.'idtH, and a momio; У,л,' ai'toiarards thr profos«nr FíTTüpffi forward. { »'l'hon roro! thai.*4 Yo;¡ bid bv '.m: i-,' of tiio о/,pv, old! Tí<. - o! km.d-M kî b'roitoky," tho koopoi' rad.iîy -said, í hoiiMio-rk-m» Marh'.d ;.u.o . a- î do not a'.k w t :m i f y,.., ooo, M;0 :;m;. ojok'p î< p-o oo-o Mi" :m - T v»-;i» the lirm ro^poimo o£ Mm (ommaii, ;tiic ikpoi lloiiomoJ; ■ Tim ko--por jaf,-od ;m -iMi jk« o Mir-ní -n'i, < 1 , f fJ-4iko" îp, , Ли ., л mmmor, and Погг Moiai!/. iî^Mam iy píop;¡o о. а Л к î or а оМ?то a; t чпИу Hidm-l h<'. had wiík. íkm. "" I of tbn и>л^. !и> han.I *• Weil, il yon waul ути* hoad br«4o. hava if ¡ a>a\'í 104— îlmm You Kpaa/ta-m 1ldnk уош>Ч\Ч'- о»f nf | **• |'1.,п;< v..ar lor-' oaaa'no ; fni \v* how v.a mm aonium a or . ¡ ф r>t :ilH| укагч, ^.-t 1 IîïH, »Hm, sec the yompic^er«? iUm'i awny," | ih\п* yon nu«y dopi'tid íM ti'd i about Mas, and it was mv du'.у we have had Urn pk*as¡iiv of >еши^ you mvivt^ ■ — а рнМ îx'iviii^ï," r'o-.p-.¡riod Mkarko Kiï/лм-jk.d, ; ** ЛИ ri^h.t; now show as tin Tim keeper, who was nul ad as a .saa^ln skifk 1 Mm ivoml for ШЫ kind oL арогЦ and ill giT_ , pUyrr, MiHlodmuik, ;тчин'"! Ьь irmird, bohíiim' i v*,u tivo hhij'dni^," -paría pumimd prop МнтМск at about ha)f-armk4 h'ipMh Ьаклч- idm, *" m :,,vtmh\X} mv lord. :K;i^r-lti,'u п|* Ьш rt'A4'r"îjrnt^' Mm fop slíadiMd" pointing apavards. f "T sav, i^iVi tlao mvîn'/ а яа.т! orown to* A fimrdi had nemi- nairnd up. id te -mix* Fn.ftm^or Mo.nal/, acamad a Imfïpnsni :/n;srd, , Ы,р ;i оЬюкоМ оцо Ги^-.Ы W"bb,;r. , dosntmmî am wa, an aram-mmy. *'or«dv fmüln.r tka к««араг, mho I",ad mïver hvqu! a- v рп.,Ь|у Tïill yoaUv nmsî not balmva in: Ttw ancient пиЫснйс were uUuwai to rrtnm: Mïalï'a tiling Uaca-a' ithk, „u'ra.^oa/'4 v!o," *mo ro d j.sa!: nd'h • hut. -':npf>oa of Ma' po^n!: ainmii a blow at tlm UonnanV. hi-ad, bw¡ il wa« • - How "kind, of him/* !(:iM \ and. imwrnnr-axiamocf w*iMi >mccf;-sa he tcukww ap aamnt; Iii»' tn *' ' :I'rank n.Amv imainvomMaaa bal 1 nam a-tim . ho4 kit ias^ wit к Mo; Jaapl ado and mi Moa mtmm » MapîîaH pkndnTrsj" ax (Mai nií'd Wo^Mmr.aanr- ï you Phaf, ablaaipk Í v.nb ^M/o/.; op yr^fcrdaT, I'M"' abnajï in Ik,- 1 >aab aoaa , Tivn h" bm'"n to | ",¡¡4 Ht)i f,4l¡ sp)e ¡v%< \,fli al oooajaapp M Mim tin.' nhorns of Mm old poaatdiip «опт— j Rich ait m,aifod poaaMnak* 's Hy Mus Mino Mapv !nai nmMa-d amdiaa* rabbii ' '1^'4^' pv mdiauy o:aa.¡ priso sot on foot b Fm-udn аш'ка} Man* ynr of pna<-o whi, Ш yWknv fcwm would eiMmi" of yon pn-almiaai i», o.»r<íurov liko ; ih,oo whíoh Wntib^r thoudiî tit io narry íu-ir, dMümíiíod Ma- h roaoa artay, îlI,|\lM!J , '/i,a5kM a îifilo чМак-practísa? T ,4muîd ho v.rry pba.^d \ v%:db hba to bdp Mm sa rarvinaoM н a'kaa: mit of the --war oaan-td^ Ma' Шата.а b,s to to aaoonïïîiodaUi anv mm of у.м(." j Ьач milM- laoko laid învoaîi ab IMma'o 0f tkia iaa mo-a important сам .::v. "Мака it а ЬшгЛпиа'Ы pai?nr, and П1 ba your 2 ""- Ati !m,! tlulili:u roll< pari nor," saai Pom'aiaaa. The u:nderkkceiii:rs did not seam to sec it 1 ?. * - , r .... 1 p;,aT m;,o:V M-a: ;ш ím.u ,raí .ктМ-р m 1 fb,?t wa, ao-n tunad from mditan m alarm Miii кш mi^iwUb when all the f events to domestic onat, bythe ein« I r»!ot to U4sa:>:-mate the first Consul. .f if;,p».Hatd mat's bmr-'pa ova* wi!m-<>od. Tka д mP;¡s n-anp **« m-iado-i, I'.^a", • ¡«ta for Ma- in'' ma! or- aai oo-ai aa.pt arad к»ко?-о ho haamd d- • Mank'-a oa' v/art d.-'r« M îkat la- là,--': ao Moa ao M,-aid h> d¡ !aorta 1; la- nd in bianco aam; *• Г ,r o"-:on v/r.' u,, s n-nt. na, a. ^ , . , . , ,. ., ,»,.., и -«-о j ,lfh{? ,.<,«" и- > oaf io; j «'os aay, wí^a'-a a¡mr 1о'ол ¡c ,* t o¡ "p^'-io.« . âaa a fur «И,.- r, oa ^ «h;ny ni«kán dnp biîM-, í,ía"-a'-' ya; ami-' to oar \ \ ko.a jvooia 'ao*' 000a vod lp/огпао "s I'm ¡ !am ia wino?i Wähler thoitdst ft* to сапу йот í Л f о M 'П ... , , , , v . оо. i . nn armv .mai !kmk,:a roIJ.vb-d mr иитЫ* lof ib. InsmdofMd îMoakmk, wa-mk,. , 1 and îopk' oí Mm уоарЬКк í;Ut p; Pa-mli, and informad out kaav Mab Maarp'ha-k- ordern wv-'(- to avoid íMdiMra.r on al! палата^. | .-kaoMM* <• Л к bhaí lina; ib o t wu "oinbaíanm Wf а а ПлМпт 1 лпМп к- oa ama, L aa\' ,y BOYS OF ENGLAND. Tía- pnn.' 's wa< (,,чч ! j î í TíUí«4!í'«í ííí pi*.и; <í' by b>-! í'íHísM. г. d a?i ¡i-'t '■ I гл'1 C': HoUrLí'lí, t'> bi- íS'-Í/.'-íi « U £К'\П ral î<;rrïU/rV, t'-JíV- у,- Í to Vi'. în Кг.'пн1!', !г,*"-; Ьу а lao.-k j rb. п. I and, üí ¿'''I/í.1-'..' » '.' .a <-ty j v'n-ayV ''Л" íac î raa r nal l. \\ and' ootn rdinf an 1 ht; ao,n )>• n.vb . u I ho wry lû/\:\ oí bo- î -Hi b Tin: r;.:i: p;,4 ;¡ '/a io,n, t íи' bill ■It--' ч yu.iüy unan \\vr<\ í Ca! i:.' ¡,uЛ и-rv-d Jn me ombyrant arii.^s a a b ÏI; ^ • î 1 «V.tlfí-nSíHi I;; íbo a--n.-pj Г;н-у of ■< oiOîyVP, Iss ino : f'XOO'.a i-ЯкТН WCOl C> bí.4 b<'bi-àC', svoko aba fn-îii a wann! sln^y acal оо»1ШШ!оЬа1 lííia to •'<■!!.>w. !b' л ¡ vittlr' .VlílHpf *!t f. î íbo í; i ' f ¡'.i Уо О* У r bon» ;ha:, wbdo í д s.'.'ini,! t; cb" о^аЫаЬ'н to î hf аач; dbHa :»- íir-kí'íl 'wbbavi' îhny \vo¡v takn.y bbít» Receiving no nnswor, ho рпа-ч-d íhc íiriji uf flarrab 1Ы- o-omma-rah г of i Со oxooaü. a \r.iv\\\ as ¡i><, î<• lг ;u»'' t*o!«t uir w'uií'íi raine v,\> í)w »í;ir!» bí^.í'CiM'» ;if i И I í.-](»»-'í, "Лг** llî^y [,V'll'"i I-í iûlîlïniv ifj.' ,;П ¡Ví ruó'и '-t .""'* f:Uf. Thuih t Ь<-1Ч'' W;aíí JU> îsf'il Í =; n'«k nil ГС* <|Н«*- iious; the siykt uf iin и;'ч :s irrav»\ a:id ;l iirinv i --у of y-.ctíianiü'í, vvía.«se inusk^t banvi» <ГК:|«г!ц'.'п fríl d«-a«i with 1>u î h: tH in hU liv-сЫ^М !,г<и}нт, .Го>« was inadc: К h:ir <;" brv:i4, _ \'-.}>¡<^ m h i Mctiy: ami \*:\u>>v K'.v/vnv, Н.-.м.. A¡íbj)u;.f;i he Ii,id frfjnc^.íly lk here-! ü' lîs, son Пи; l-Iniyr- л. ,b к. ybli.", by i,- ■ «Ibury riybf t«» b'- im abs ;r-1 i í y." :Ьто егш 1н,' j ib>t 1шь'Ьдп<Ь w.-'is iu:i'II ihíH, un tîie i^îlt at >Ьу,; Л- f.w ihn», H.^iuj'.rtru' uvrib.ntv/ tb" гог,>и! uti«-Ii oí i h»i ííotmíüi Kmj'ir« . .vbi-'b Jüni las;*-1 д lüisLwiüci Vfa: ■ -.lublisboi ;t called üiiiüííb Confederation, of w Ii ich he named himself Protector-An other wörcls» ГЫл ;-!«,•!• ;/:urn:('d Fnihsin for lier own safety, that she again, took up amis against France, But ail Napoleon advanced with Ms usual courage; and gained, on the Mtli October, 1806, a memorable battle Vimvij ^ 1:a:, b:it'.:< -I H.-üü. Тч, carnage was awful, ai,ci the combats between the cavalry on either stele were desperate. Napoleon, however, gained the day, and immediately afterwards occupied the Prussian capital, b'i'bn î and !hen: ргммЬ^пь С what is known » the "Berlin de- cree," or "Continental systenV'*by which, the British Islands were de- clared in a state of blockade* i'ho ybrh» í'i.'aUíy- bi iiy/» ^ 1) -V were'allowed to enter any'territory nnf >'"ii?»'d it tit })u> Fren»*!' < '«'nsuJ. síyií'íc J;,';rb*ims íi/ídrr t bo snmv «чшп**.Ь N¡t¡ "¡.ti) B»'!5c;f.nn<: ** lbií|<' г < -r oí ti,'- !'rcn«''.." i Л ■ h* - f с* b, • -ti > if í bb* •.'Cantor, we muy .«t;d" 1 ">:*■ Ib'»*!!-1:! b'.'j.-.jbii«' v.'4'- ;-'»*Л' f<'!;-'"¡.¡"í.íiyid, ti-a1 N ry-ioo; v, !;o '.vas • 'Т":'Л ц Ь'С;>[,ч*.оГ ,'í nit "f.-'i, a.fb'.r !i;;vb- r ü :i¡t....: ''лло: ,;• ;í-' ,«.■ '.\ .,>• u :\\.-, ;. ;', i ч' !, a ' : * <¡ :, :i4 j;,- bfi-unc* ;ik l'n-e K¡._i;bf-:; ' -имт r.v, ^:í! . 'i í:*)íii !]<»■ ¡ ü y ,: >i; y o1 nу.-'Л'-'Г, ;bí t he bi\v.-» of ti m- of i he üf;uh ' ; i 'b;u'ie> I., v;;<., iv;?wi years _ I''raniv,.-¡.'UH'íi-.i Ьс-м- wbîrb wt-c gond, ab«>ihbt-d híf.i four months. 'í:josc wîiH'.b sn bu-I, dívw uy ihsfv. wbb'b w<-rc I i;id thf oooïuod îîiafi íi.ai b¡c boar bad «vtíh-, Havary citen fa.-t**m4d a läutern inj Ihe younr •yd;o*,4 Ыч.^.ч íu giC'b' ^bc í4Jm nt bis ó.v0(.ub íif'iicrá, s,f h>r, i i fvr^'t; и;Л tía |>ri- ,;u<,t- in tíu'i<: places wt'№ «Hnetímf fergottea. ша! brusa:^. b'-qu^atla d tu N.,po- b:oií Иго ела;! ívriaiíity Ünú. IÎ iîiviîaabïo oit bad, Ь;ь 'anal rival, l'biyïaod, was «l, y rali y co cyd |,Цо atacan, Л yaíaíaí Ьма'Уа,*;!. in o^aacocisia,ií»' .alcali liait ía/ ír«a.aai híin«»:!i', and f a^a;s>:ba,aicd Ky the orba i- id Хау-'чаоп. S'on idler coiicludlíay yoaoe wi:b Arpiña, N'ayobi'Ct m.i'Ia pca.v with l'ia^aa, and yr/»- oí'odcd to iri«ava>-!« b.s own pov>vr by raíhlv;^ ^avcral oí íik rclatioîifc' io tbc rank oí шшш'сш, M cenen a»- ííííí tw*i смекали4. a body of law- vbab-C, t1Í4dcr iba t ,íF í»M,b(; /bofa Nap-i»Ícon, na'U.var booned* bis chivC titk-.чи bamia íTo be; cuaüaaC'L СиП'айеаач! ш No» abbf. "ГдТСаи." .:.иМ a Ici!- boy Cl a, tin-atrn ti;.a a b/^J-Ьол whc:a« taa ьа^наапу ara Ь' Wfiv /• ;i tr;ab .-a-'aa \\а,о !;,,, (,ч tadafydïiy la *ï>«*k bkc ;i vvuomvu« îvptilv V iiv<;aat><¿ lie b a iiddvr» 1G6 [March 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. A STRANGE CAREER; OK, THE FORGER'S VICTIM. CHAPTER XXIr-icontinved). OW good of you to say so# Poor girl!" "Now you must go with her to-night," Pendle con- tinued, t! in a fly to London. I will give you the address." "But they'll find out that she was here, and they'll trace us. The servants will tell them." "No, they'll not be able to; because they will all be discharged within an hour." "But ray husband," said Mrs. Liversidge, innocently enough entering into the scheme, "Dickwill tell everything." "Then he won't tell it here, madam. I shall send him up to my town house, with .a (message- and instructions to wait there two 1 days till my return." Л . "Then you'll be in the house by yourself."; "Exactly. And now I think you see what you'll have to do. You sec, Mrs. Liversidge, I place confidence in no one but you. Do you think I can sec Cissy now?" "I will go and sec, sir." In a few moments he was ushered into Cissy's room. She was, as Mrs. Liversidge had said, dressed, but seemed almost devoid of life, being seated with her elbow on the sill of the window, gazing out into the garden. "Good evening, miss," said Pendle. "I am happy to sec you so far recovered." And he advanced, and sat down beside her. Cissy did not answer, though she turned and looked Pendle in the face. So Pendle continued, "You want a change of scene, my dear girl, and Mrs. Liversidge will take you to-night to London, to my house, where you will find every comfort." "I feel I am a trespasser here," Cissy an- swered, in her low, passionless voice. She believed Pendle to be Oscar's uncle, as ehe had no reason to think otherwise. "No, no—not a trespasser—don't say that," returned Pendle. "It is my desire to do every- thing in my power to ensure .your future happiness." She turned her pale face full, round to his, and her large eyes were filled with an expression of despair and resignation, as she said— "I shall not be a trespasser anywhere, long. But yoù are verykind to me, and I thank you." She raised his hand and kissed it, and tears fell from her eyes. Pendle shuddered. "Isvit possible," he thought, "thatI have destroyed this girl Г **" But it was only a momentary thought. His hard njind crushed the feelings of his heart. Having thus secured Mrs. Liversidge in his interest, and won the confidence of the inno- cent Cissy, Pendle thought he might now hurry on his plans to completion. Calling up the servants, he paid them the full amount of their wages, and dismissed them; then, leaving Mrs. Liversidge to see them off the premises, and appointing an hour to meet the lady, he started off . for town, and "*yas soon in- stalled in his private apartment, where he sàt for a few moments chuckling over his present success, and gloating over those in store for him. A knock at the door interrupted his medita- tion, and, in obedience to his " Come in," Hatton entered. "Well," said Pendle, "what is it 2" "He's gone." "Who's gone?" "That chap we trapped, sir —Oscar Meri- vale," Pendle started up. The muscles of his fea- tures worked convulsively. He looked searchingly at the man before him, hut Hattorfs, face wa^s a perfect blank. "How do'you know he's gone 2" asked Pendle. "Who told your "Well, sir, I am always about when I ain't after your business, and I was near the place where we caged him, so 1 thought I'd go in and see how he was a getting on. He seemed all right then; and. afterwards, me and the keeper were talking and gossiping, and an hour soon passed away, and when he went to give Merivale his dinner, he found one of the bars across the chimney wrenched out of the brickwork, and the chap had gone up the chimney." "Escaped?" "Yes, sir.'* "Was the door fastened 1 Did the man find the door fastened?" "Yes, sir." Pendle looked at Hatton with his glittering eyes, and said— "You know more of this matter." "Of course I do." Pendlc's face flushed, and he exclaimed— "Don't think you can trick me, Hatton. Remember, I could get you swung from the beam at Newgate 1" "Yes," answered Hatton, with a grin, "and the. same bit. o'. rope that swung me would be used the next day to swing, you. But what is the use of getting savage? I only meant that I know where to find him." "How?" "Well, wc tried to trace him, but he had got perhaps an. Hour's,start, and we could find no trace of him, so I begins to think it is time to use à little stratagem. I walks to Lewes and goes into a public-house." 4 Stratagem! what a fool you must be. Where is the stratagem in going into a public-house?" "Hold hard, sir. I went into one o' them little boxes in the parlor, and I heard two men talking, and I heard the name of Merivale. Then I opened my ears a bit and listened, and it seems they were friends of his, who had managed to find out where he was imprisoned, and one Bight they got on the top of the house, and let down.the chimney an iron crowbar, and with this lie must have wrenched away the iron bar, and elimbed the chimney again." Pendle made a movement with his head, ex- pressive of vexation. "Wait a bit, sir—I heard more than that. On a certain day Mr. Oscar Merivale will be at a certain place, and that's what I heard." "Where will he be?" "Well, sir, I shall not yet divulge the secret, but I shall take care to be down upon him at the right moment." Hatton had built up this lie, to hide his own share in .Oscar's escape. "But why not tell me where he is to be found?" asked Pendle. "Because it is just a little bit of business that two would spoil. One only will be able to manage it, and that is me. I give you my word that on a certain day I can put Mr. Oscar Meri- vale again in your power." "Then," said Pendle, savagely, " I will cany out my full plans against him. I'll prosecute him for the murder of Barbara. The chain of evidence is nearly complete; so take with you two officers, and give him in charge. He will find it difficult to escape from Newgate." "Of course, sir. But he didn't kill Barbara, did he?" "He cannot disprove it," answered Pendle, sharply, "and that is sufficient for me. All the crew of the * Mermaid' are drowned, except him, and I have two witnesses to swear they were on board and saw the murder done." "Who are the witnesses, sir?" "You will be one, and Joe Bryant the other," and Pendle looked into Hatton's face in a way that said, " You dare not refuse." Hatton sat thinking for a moment, and then said, , "Yes, but if I am cross-examined by old Ser- jeant Rasper about a, ship, what am I to say? I don't know one end hardly from the other." "You must learn," replied Pendle, shortly. "Say you went as steward, and they won't ask embarrassing questions." "Ah, yes, I can do that." "Of course, you'll both have to learn your parts," observed, Pendlç, "We sjiall have to stick close to the same tale, 5Tou must tell us everything you wish said," "I shall not fail to do so. I know all about the course the ship took, andeverv incident that occurred. Oscar himself told me enough, when he told me about Barbara's death, little think- ing, the fool, of the weapons he was placing in my hands!" "Then you will have him taken by a detec- tive?" said Hatton. Pendle nodded his head. "But," pursued Hatton, "supposing he blabs out about the asylum, and about your seizing his house at Teddington?" "Who is to believe him, if I swear it is all false? Old Wilson, at the asylum, for a hundred pounds, will swear he has never seen him before* No, I have got it all cut and dried, and if it doesn't convince the judge, jury, and lawyers,, and secure a conviction, it's odd to me." CHAPTER XXII. PENDLE'S POWER IS SHAKEN. Beaulieu Place was an object of mystery and curiosity to the people of Ilinchelsea,,as much so as Pendle's house in London was to the in- habitants of the street in which it stood. It was a big, rambling old house, built cen- turies ago. It stood in the midst of extensive grounds,, which were enclosed in a high,railing., No one in Rinchelsca or in the neighbourhood could give you an accurate description of the house or grounds, for the present proprietor, who had bought it some twenty years ago, had hired workmen from London, and turned the place in- side out. Yet these workmen, when their bribed silence was broken into with the beer of the neighbour- ing alehouses, sometimes let fall strange ac- counts of beautiful chambers, of curious passages, tastefully-arranged gardens, and rockwork and caverns. To this place Cissy was to be taken by old Maria. -i.' "You understand my, motives ?" asked Pendle. "Base, as usual, no, doubt," replied .the old woman, sharply. "No; you're wrong. I intend to marry that girl." The old woman looked at him a moment, and" then laughed derisively as she asked— "How many more do you intend to marry after the old fashion?" "You doubt me," said Pendle; "but I tell you I am in earnest this time. I am getting old. I have oceans of money," he said, "and I shall marry this Cissy, if I can make her love me." "But how about the other?" asked the old woman, with a malicious twinkling of the eyes. "mat other? Who?" "Suppose—suppose," said old Maria, hesi- tating. "Suppose what?" asked Pendle. "Oh, well, if nothing suggests itself to your mind, after what I have said, I don't wish to mär your happiness." "Why do you bring up the past?" asked Pendle, frowning. "Why does the past always keep coming before my eyes like a rolling picture?. Crime after crime, in which you were ever the prime mover ; you ordered, I obeyed. And there it is, to haunt both of us, for good or for bad." "Nonsense, Maria. Let the past be forgotten. You make me shiver. You will take this girl to Beaulieu Place. Put her into the Turkish room looking on to the Pompeian Court. Treat her with the greatest kindness. She believes I am Oscar's uncle. You must keep up that belief." "By more lies,?" asked old Maria. "They will be the last, Maria. They will, upon my soul. Speak of me to her with respect. Paint my character that she may look upon me with favour ; so that when I come down, which may be to-night, or not perhaps for a day or two, I may find her mind favourable .to me. You understand?"' ¿ "Ido." "And mind, be careful of speaking of my his- tory. When she speaks of my antecedents strike off on to other topics. You know how to manage* You will find yoür own brain equal to* ИЛПСИ 1, 1S70.] 167 BOYS ÓF ENGLAND. the task о leading and forming lier mind. She doesn't talk much." "And she will talk less, soon," said old Maria. "What do you mean?" "Look at her white lips, at her pale face, at her eyes. Her eyes are as bright and have just that unearthly stare at times that poor Milly's had when—" "Curse it/Maria, don't talk like that." "When she .was dying," pursued Maria, heed- less of Pendle's interruption. "And look at this girl's arms . and hands ;why, there's no blood in her veins. And see how she sits and thinks and dreams. She's living in a world of her own, and that world is on the brink of the grave 1" "She's only love-sick. Change of air—change of scene—change of residence—plenty of good food and wine, will put new life into her. You're beginning to grow childish, Maria, to talk as you talk." During the journey down, Cissy was silent; she sat gazing out of the carriage window, en- tranced in her own thoughts, while Maria, in gazing at her, felt a feeling of pity for the poor girl arise within her. When they arrived at their destination, she told the porter to.order a fly, and Cissy and her- self got in "the vehicle, and the boxes were placed on the top, and they drove off to Beaulieu Place. The cab .rattled along, and after passing through the.decayed:city of ßinchelsca,- stopped before a high .wall covered with ivy. The cab- man knocked and rang at a massive gate studded with iron bólts.: / , :> -, • The gate was opened by one/of Pendle's at- tendants. ': » - Hé was a short man, with a very large head covered with curly hair, partially grey. "Hulloa, Maria, you're here once again?" "I suppose I am." « How de do, miss ?—your servant,'' said the man, whose name was Boylstoñ, to Cissy. Cissy bowed. They entered the house, and went upstairs. i "This will be your bed-room, miss, and mine1 will be next to it. Г11 open the window. There now. Can't you smell the sea breeze? Isn't it. beautiful? It's years since I was here." "It's a nice place," said Cissy, sinking into a chair. "Mr. Merivâlè is very kind. I don't know why he should be so kind to mc." "Nonsense," said Maria, who began to feel a great deal of sympathy springing up in her heart for Cissy, "you musn't think of that. Mr. Mcrivale's very rich. Come.here, miss, and look at the sea. Just watch how the moonlight shines on the water; and can you see those ships there?" "Yes. Oh, it is beautiful. Look at those white, silvery clouds. Do you think heaven is like that?" "Lord, what a question 1 A hundred times better, I should think." { It was, indeed, a beautiful scene. The water was calm, and on one part of its surface the light of the moon fell in majestic splendour, while to the right an immense pile of black clouds was working up from the west, and cast on the sea their dark, black shadow. The edges of these storm clouds were fringed with silver, and the contrast of light and dark- ness was grand. « How grand 1 how calm 1 what peace !" Cissy murmured. "Oh, look, miss/ . See,-the moon has just shbt through that hole in the clouds, and lit up a big ship—right away there to the left. Do you see it, miss?" "Yes." "It's a big ship. I dare sa£, now, she's going to Australia." A cry broke from Cissy, and she fell backwards into Maria's arms. "Oh, heavens ! she's fainting 1" It was true. The mention of the word Aus- tralia struck a chord of memory, and reminded her of Oscar's flight. Maria, With great -éxertiôn, lifted her on to the bed, and after bathing her temples and chafing her hands, had the satisfaction of hear- ■ irig her burst into a fit of tears. • "Ho shall deal justly by her, poor thing." Maria had learned to love the forlorn girl. She saw her delicate health, and pitied her position. Moreover, she half suspected Pendle's story. Why should he hide his name, and assume another? "It doesn't signify," she said; "he shall do her no harm while there's a bit of breath in my body, that I swear." She was walking along to the servants' hall, shading the candle with her hand, when a voice exclaimed— "What are you swearing about, Maria?" She smothered a half-uttered scream, and taking her hand from the candle, held it up, so that its rays fell around. Immediately by the side of her she saw the florid face, the cold, sinister eye, and white head of Pendle. For a moment she thought it was an apparition, but his features relaxing into his old sardonic grin, her courage returned, and she stared at him in defiance. It was a study for a painter. The dark passage—the light falling upon the hard, marked features of both—Pendle's grin, and cunning eye—and Maria's tall, gaunt figure, long, thin face, and defiant look. "What was that you were saying, Maria? You were taking an oath." "It was a secret of my own." "That concerns me, nevertheless." "It might, perhaps." y„ "You said, 'He shall do her ho harm as long as there's breath ;in my body/ And then you took an oath. * Who were you alluding to, and what did it all mean?" i ■ "Guess what it means." 1' . r "You're clever in speech to-night, Maria." "I am not a fool. I was educated, but I never thought I should be the satellite of a murderer." "Curse you, Maria! Listen to me," said Pendle, his usually florid face becoming lividly! pale with rage, and his clenched fist trembled as he held it towards the old woman. "One word more of that kind, and you're a dead woman." "Which will be the first step for you towards the gallows." "Dead tongues tell no tales. This place is large and lonely. Your ldudest scream would not be heard," said Pendle, or, rather, he hissed it through his clenched teeth. "Pendle, listen to me. If on the first dfuy of every month I don't appear at a certain place and claim a packet, that packet will be opened, and the contents published. The contents are— what?" She paused, and gazed in triumph at Pendle's blank face. "That packet contains," she resumed, "a description of your house, of Milly's death, of the misery of Mary, of your forgeries, of the Horn an vault, of Bill Hatton, of all your crimes. Now kill me if you like." Pendle was thunderstruck; he was check- mated. His face was expressive of rage, and dis- appointment, and fear. Maria stood watching his features with fiend- ish delight. "Who did you leave the packet with ?" Pendle asked, after awhile. The old woman stared at him for a moment, and then, bursting out into one of her short laughs, Said, "You've lost your power—you're beaten. Do you think I should tell you, so that you could go and get it ?—which you would." Again Pendlo's face was working with rage and passion, and he exclaimed, "Maria, after all the years—" I "Stop, say no more. I have only protected myself—I shall never hurt you. But, if you attempt to wrong that innocent child upstairs— if you even use any coercion to obtain her love —only her love, or merely her respect—if yöu annoy her in any way, that packet shall be pub- lished." CHAPTER XXIII. HATTON'S TREACHERY. Oscar lost no time in getting to London. His whole thoughts now centred upon Cissy. He passed through London and took train to Teddington, and here he began to realise the force of the blow Pendle had dealt him. Linden Lodge was closed. He rang the bell several times, but no one appeared; and after a while he went to a public- house which stood about half a mile off, and made inquiries. All that he could glean was that the family had been gone two or three days, and that the furniture had been sold. ^ They understood the gentleman who had occupied the lodge had run away and left his wife, and that his uncle had taken possession and sold everything off. "And the lady?" gasped Oscar, scarcely able to speak. "She's gone with the uncle." {•■ * u Where?" "Nobody knows where. Everything was done in à hurry and was kept very quiet." . This seemed the greatest calamity of all. With a heavy heart, he went back to London, and called upon Mr. Mortimer. When he : entered *thc shop of Mortimer and Armitage, the elder partner was busy recom- mending some articles to an elderly lady. As soon as he saw Oscar, he left his customer, and seizing him with both hands, ^exclaimed, ," I knew" you wouldn't go ! - Your uncle is an old fool." * "My uncle! who? I don't understand any- thing you^say." "Why, I went down to Teddington, according to your invitation, and when I got there, I saw a middle-aged gentleman, who said you had left England." "; -; ■ , "Who said I had left/Englahds?" : repeated Oscar, surprised/ . ^ . ".This gentleman," said Mortimer, "who re- presented himself as your uncle—which I didn't believe—said you had gone to Australia. I told him it was a lie, and he said he had got a letter from you, explaining everything, and wishing him to sell the house and furniture, and every- thing off, and that he was to give Cissy some- thing to start her in business." "Yes, yes," cried Oscar, with impatience; "but where is Cissy?" "Ah! there's the mystery. I got excited and insisted, as the partner of Cissy's brother, to take her away immediately with me; but he said she had left the house two hours; before I arrived, with the intention of coming to my house to see me and her brother* ■ When I came home Joe had not seen her. No one here had seen her. I went down the next day and found the place shut up. There's something wrong somewhere." "What sort of a man was it'who represented himself as my uncle?" t 11 "Why, he had a rather florid face; and snow- white hair, and small twinkling eyes — very sharp." "That was Pendle," said Oscar.' "Who is he?" - , Oscar then related all that had befallen him, and gave Mortimer a sketch'of Pendle's life, and of his connection withhinú: "Why the fellow^must be a demon," said Mortimer; "the man must be Satan himself in disguise." n "He's as bad, as heartless, as cruel, as cun- ning, sö I must denounce him at Once. It seems to have become a war of extermination between himself "and me. But Cissy, how can Ï find her?" asked Oscar, in a voice tremulousiwith, emotion. . - "Go to him, and take police officers with you,, and demand her of him." "Utterly useless; he would-only'"laugh,*" an- swered Oscar. u He's not à man -to 'be -intimi- dated. I only know of one plarïj and that is of doubtful character; but I can do nothing until to-morrow." * ,:- ¿J1* t Oscar thought of endeavouring -to-purchase: the secret from Hatton. ¡ In the morning Oscar càîlôd upon his banker, and received £2000, and then went to the Shades at Charing Cross, where lió had appointed to meet Hatton. Exactly at eleven the forger entered. "How de do, Mr. Mcrivale? Áh, sir; this is something like business. Here's your ,bit o' paper, sir, and I s'pose you've got somè :of the cash?" HOYS OF ENGLAND. THE RIVAL CRUSOES. Ш ТЫ. Л! 'i ЯИЦ м|' " Т. '»,,"" .M. «S 14';, s e;nd íhfu í?i a гч::<ч v. aк a: • » 1 e,'«;eíoe, ■raeil'd» M'i'/,í-M Ib" Oaieei Y \v;, v ;:i t ];'- w< т) ГИЛ1ТК!: XXIX.- WA K!i:kw?<- mad... ku:v< and < i: :.. ¡..-.i ikka ík> « 111 er.ernd агьi i il:" W«' bid j¡i- еюа tí • •and da «a • a-": ¡ y* shtmbravrt heaviïy. Nothing из warn them. ihamd aboni their с-лыу ^trauirt: su шик woald hum been heard, bad they heui 1<ч* wrapped lit dren m p. The steps oí men шщЬщ uj». Llí.dil s'''}»-*'- Then, dark, painted facu%«, phoned head*, tat- tooed ami nearly naked bodies ^ашс fren mn]er Iii** t r ee^. Twenty wnrrfom armed with tomahawk, spear, and bow aiid aro >w, Grimly, dowly. ati-T wilh.mf a word крнкеп, they formed in a drei« round the uncou*riou* boyg, then there eame Ь i:i flair «¡ívaeaa í h roan- a war whoop *o ЬиЬ".лы «ml ЫтпШе to indue*? the three* mi fortunate baN to ïenp to their f, oí, deah-ned almost bv the horrid clamour. One planee nt'ottce revealed tb> extent of their miaiirtuiic—ilie fact i'а. Г they «,po h>sby at the merev of ihr. -аеаеае Tndhan-a Ah if : i í :y ¡. p: b-ae ". Thv íirsl, í'unly» havihai ^ona-huw «¡r rua -tr la A-' I VA TÍk b'arf-d •„-;!.na-- ■at"i t X< Г td in" îra-м i : '.\ b<, v> ha a r \;;;;»Г'.г,,ч and t nici;!i r,í - -"k i a-/ of th ¡ had ач was lîi^ ih^a, ;аИ h. ftaíinv, Nh-rj «Ar,.ihl nav** f'a* ^ r> аа.а-ч ; wTi.'t<-!i<-à h;!-1, in«! i!a; ihra.' \ a \v,ítU ¡h i Ii а|г;и- i a-a, jila- a t*J,;a «lí-r'.¡ i» \Uv¡r }»b";i/;;al |iíh% j lía! ipj'ííjíaj' w.a.s a*»'h f-'-, 1 Thf t/f.hri ^ д! га^гн fa» \n |иа.1 h,r; \ri ha huny ío Idlh.w fia* baînay, ;ujd lia- yuath was «агЛу at a h s- evil h» ааа<-кала-'í :5н. гним' af t ja» divibiua <>£ ¡nnlífñ» i unaware that, líka luiliias- »d :m oldt-r ^rtiwib. n-(!-kí!s,4 an* particularly jediius of their ! raphias í of Vii'tory. j i*or abnid an huur fh'-y «td :-ín«íkíay th"ír red Hand-síota: j»'¡H-<. and la,xufi;il Ïîî,i: i a íh«" ra|d'- da»ii which h;ii! y» inscrqH'eU'diy faih-n r.aait '{la ra» sava^e,< finally examined the -and <>ar hero, and. wiih ;ifrown, dí4'MVt4*<4Í rha* h«» iiîi'î wurk'rd îla-ra U'íih a, >\'!V.*!"M ,crt, Ле\1 циник' Xi-d Stnuaïer.5 waa &\mir, in ih" camp ed the ¿avago redskdLs, íur», the triumphant red>kinn continued daneakai j Theu aiî iu«e, fovkçâ ni their keen hatched, ¡ < iiAi i idv XXX. <;A.ÍIL<» TO Tili-; ITE. TilE pndtJen wíh not t.edy кшпШаПаеа but was e.xena'iaf inedy mieomfortab!e and paini'id. Tie-oaa,-rMdi^s ;чаее:/е had iied the >in}^"; leather iban the, nnhicky deer ко tíidd г<шиа >"oít'- ím'aívh nial \\ihu%ító to actuaîîv eut made a de«]HTaie attempt to break hwligat urc-a In vain. Exertion only еяпчч1 them to eat more deefhh into the tie-in îh.ï ееаям! îum exortions therefore. Moaning with pain, Ned was m a humour that h«d'-d ill {и the sava^'.-, eoahl he hav«- b'«oa f.-r that instant with arms m hi* har.ds. Hapininir, strong hin^oa^a and threats were, hewever, Kisnply a-'leS-s, Patience was all he had to depend on. Hark! 17G [.M rtrn 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. What sound is that? Some one, with extreme care and precaution, is crawling through the bushes. Who can it be? An enemy or a friend 1 The latter supposition is scarcely possible, as the only two friends of whom he knows anything in that island are in as bad, or worse plight than himself. He strives to turn in the direction of the sound; but his swollen wrists and ankles at once compel him to lie still. Still the steps advance. There is something slow and trailing, like a wounded animal, in the sound. It is close at hand. He looks up. Sallow, nearly naked, his rags scarcely holding together, a stout stick bis only weapon, stood the author of all his misfortunes—the wretched midshipman, Samuel Petworth. Gaunt, half-starved, the light of semi-insanity in his eye, the youth grinned a ghastly smile as he looked down upon his old fellow midshipman. "So—caught in a trap!" said Sam, in a strangely hollow tone. "Cut mc loose t" "What for?" sniggered Samuel Petworth. ^ "Are you a Christian ?—do you own to having white blood in your veins," cried Ned SummerSj "and will you leave me a prey to the brutal red- skins?" "Where is Harry?" asked Sam, looking about with a keen and cunning glance. "A prisoner, like myself," exclaimed Ned. "But make haste—the wretches may return." "You won't hurt me?" whined Samuel Pet- worth, after a moment's thought. 44 Hurt you I No—only be too grateful. Take my knife, and cut away quick." The other drew Ned's long knife, which the savages, in the gloom—it being in a leather sheath—had not noticed, and passed it slowly across his thumb. "Sharp," said Sam. "Yes, sharp enough," replied Ned. *' Cut away, and talk nonsense after." "No hurry," drily remarked Sanv "What do you mean?" "This," cried Sam, with a fierce and savage gleam in his little, grey, ferret eyes, " either this knife ends your existence—" Mechanically,, as he spoke, Samuel loosened one wrist—the right—by a sharp cut, which brought blood. "Or you swear to me, as soon as they are res- cued, to divide the other two boys between ns. You shall have Fred Blount for your fag," he grinned; "I will have Harry Thornton." "I have no right to dispose of my friends. 4 Besides, why should I yield up one so delicate to a savage like yourself? A pretty slave he f would be t" "You are mistaken," said Sam, drily. "I love the—the boy, and will have him." "All this is idle talk," cried Ned. "The savages are probably returning j we can discuss this matter at a future time." "No time like the present. Smear or die Г And the long knife gleamed in the air, held on high by the half-insane youth. AU this time Ned's right hand had been lying limp and usoícsá beside him. The raw green hide had cut deeply and inflicted a wound. The blood had been checked in its circulation, and the whole arm felt more dead than alive. But Ned Summers was not a boy to be taken unawares. , He had once or twice stretched his muscles, and felt that sense and energy were returning. The wretched outcast lifted his knife*. « Once twice—murder V roared Samuel, as he let fall the knife, to defend himself from the furious attack.of -Carlp, who, After a long morning's hunt, liad condescended to return to the camp. While Samuel shrieked, writhed', and struggled, Ned picked up the murderous weapon, and un- fastened the other cord. Then, and only then, he called off Carlo. The dog had pinned Samuel by the back of his neck, holding him fast without any very great damage, though, as he was naked from the waist upwards, not without some severe scratches and bites. Foaming at the mouth, panting with rage,' Sam would have flown at Ned, but the sight of the knife and the presence of the dog restrained him. "Ned Summers," he hissed between his set teeth, "this must end. The world is not big i enough to hold us two. Throw down your knife, * send off your dog, and fight me like a man 1" "Why you should hate me, I know not," re- plied Ned, sadly. "But go your way, lest I be tempted to tie you whence I have just escaped." Sam looked at him with furious rage at being baulked of his fell desire, and then, with a wild cry, he whirled his staff over his head, and dis- appeared in the deepest recesses of the forest. Ned, still stiff and awkward, shook himself, kicked out his legs, and soon brought life and energy back to his frame. As he did so, his foes came in contact with something that made his heart bound. Stooping amid the dry leaves which had made them a bed, he found that all three guns lay together untouched. Snatching them up, he strapped one on his back, and casting the others one over each shoulder, made a sign to Carlo, and entered the forest in the direction in which he had lost sight of his friends and companions. Carlo appeared fully to understand what was expected of him, as. he at once assumed a jog- trot* step and led the way which his master wished to go.! Ned móved very slowly, as he was fully aware of the character of the people he had to deal with ; they were equally cruel and cunning. In front were those who had stolen away his friends atid companions; behind, those who had left him, to all appearance, so securely tied. He was alive—armed, it is true ; but what was one boy, even provided with firearms, against, a horde of bold and desperate savages? Nothing would have been easier than to retire to the secret castle on the hill, and there abide the final retirement of the savages. Ned, however, was not one to abandon friends in distress; and, if even he perilled his life, was quite determined to follow in the footsteps of Harry and Fred. Slowly, deliberately, the brave dog kept some distance in advance. He soon found that Ned was not able to move very fast, though, as he warmed to the task, he did feel both more energy and life. Up hills, over small plains, along dark valleys and gloomy dells, wiuding in and out, until, in- stead cf an island, their retreat seemed an endless continent, Ned and his faithful companion to- wards sunset reached a wood, which spread in every direction over a rolling and slightly diversified plain. No sign of the fugitives. It was evening, and almost dark, so that Ned resolved to camp. That Carlo might not go astray, he tied him by a loose thong to his wrist. With his sturdy dog and his three guns, he laid down at the foot of a wide-spread tree, and soon slept the sleep of the fearless and the just. An hour elapsed. The forest was still and silent as the grave, and then Carlo put his nose close to the other's ear, and gave a low, whining moan. Summers understood him well. Ned raised his head and peered around. At first his head appeared dizzy, and he could scarcely make out where he was. He then listened attentively. Nothing. Still the dog moaned, and fixed his eyes in a westerly direction. Yes, there they were, six bloody savages in their war-paint, with their head-dresses relieved against the sky on the summit cf a small ridge. They were passing along in Indian file, like the ghostly forms of former inhabitants of those far distant isles. Ned clutched his gun¡ncrvously. They were not fifty yards distant, and coming directly his way. In another moment they would be beneath the shelter of the forest. They were following the trail, and by means of the clear, cold moonlight, had easily traced the dog and man over the hills and plain. Under the canopy of leaves the task became somewhat more difficult. Unfortunately for Ned, these redskins were not of those savages who, until intimate with Europeans, were ignorant of fire. To light up a clear pine torch, and hold it down to the trail, was the work of a minute. 'All'was lost. In another moment they would be upon him. Flight was of little avail, as the cunning knaves would still follow him. Well, Ned was not going again to submit to thé fearful' thraldom from which he had just escaped. They came on; one behind the other, the first holding a torch, the others clutching their heavy tomahawks. ;.Г; Ned Summers had his three guns close to his hand. He lifted up the largest and heaviest, loaded with heavy duck shot, took steady * aim, and fired. A fearful howl, a horrid screech was heard,, and then, when the smoke cleared away, two- Indians lay sprawling on the ground. The rest had, as - was their usual practice, rushed to cover. Ned Summers had himself retreated behind the tree, and, treading lightly, made the best of his way from the night camp he had selected. A dismal howling and screeching followed him; but Ned, regardless of the enemy, and thinking only of his own safety, hurried away as fast as his feet could carry him. Carlo trotted on as unconcernedly as possible. That worthy seemed on perfectly good terms with himself, and selected paths which were certainly easier than those around. At length they came to the verge of the wood. Something shone translucent in the bright moonlight, at no great distance. It was the mighty ocean, in all its greatness and glory. Amid the rocks, and by fording here and there a small branch of the sea, he might, Ned thought, hide his trail. After a moment's reflection, he skirted the edge of the wood, intending to dash down a. small gully to the left. He counted without his dog, who wagged his tail, looked up at him, and signified his intention of going quite another way, even back into the wood which they had just left. Believing the animal, like most of his race, to have a motive for what he did, Ned, who had loaded his gun as he walked along, followed. The dog went forward about a hundred yards, and then stopped. Ned looked around, and presently saw a faint light, something like the twinkling of a star. His heart leaped into his mouth. Had he fallen upon the camp where his com- rades were guarded by the Indians? He saw to the priming of his three guns. One he held in his hand. The other two he cast on his shoulders, and, bidding the dog hold back a little, crept on. He strove to emulate the cunning and patience of the Indians themselves. The fire burned low in a hollow, to which the wood sloped. Ned trod slowly and carefully, never putting his foot to the ground until sure that lie did not tread on anything likely to betray him. In this way he soon reached the camp. It was a small, clear, sparkling fire, round which sat four men, moodily smoking their pipes. Leaning against two large tree trunks were two other ghastly-looking redskins. A moment's reflection "told that they were corpses. Between them lay the body of a man tightly bound, and towards this the fnaians continually pointed, with savage mien, with glaring eyeballs and ferocious scowls. It was the half-naked body of Samuel Bet- worth, whom the Indians had caught crouching rouud their camp, with some vague idea of food íind w.armtli, and whom they were about to punish for the misdeeds of others. Presently the pipes were laid down, and in. M AUCH 1, 1S70.] 171 BOYS OF ENGLAND. their place the savage and implacable Indians clutched their tomahawks. The spectacle was going to begin. Sam looked at them in stupid wonderment, as if he scarcely knew what was about to happen, йог cared much. His brain was certainly af- fected to a certain degree. Whatever in one sense of the word may be the nobility of the Indian, there can be no doubt of his savage delight in cruelty. Cruelty of the most refined character. Samuel Petworth gaped at them with a mien almost as wild and savage аз themselves. The pipes consumed and finished, they sur- rounded the dead bodies of their friends, and danced a singular measure to a still moré singu- lar tunc. Then they brought a pile of wood to where the wretched white man stood, naked and de- spairing. It was quite clear that they intended to torture and then burn him. Now Ned was, of course, deeply antagonistic to Samuel Petworth. And yet it went against his noble and generous heart to leave him to the devices of the savages. All this while where was Harry—where Fred? Had they been with Jrim, his attack on the savages would have been a certainty. His eyes were never taken oír them. Sam looked at the proceedings with a lack- lustre eye. Abject terror had seemingly bereft him of his senses. The savages danced with joy. Their happiness consisted in quelling the cou- rage of their victims. Had he have only shown a decent amount of courage, they would have respected, and, per- haps, spared him. For the coward they had no тетсу. The pile was made, some splinters of wood were ready, with which to tear his flesh, and the torch was lit. The savages approached him in a body. Ned hesitated no longer, but let fly the double barrelled gun he had obtained from the pirate lieutenant. An awful yell followed, and then two savages fled. Ere'they were out of sight Ned gave them another shot. Then, without delay, he ran up, loosened Sam's withes, and freed him. "Now run for your life." Sam grinned in his face. The man was a howling idiot. Ned could not wait to be recaptured, so turned away, hoping that the instinct of preservation would induce him to follow. Scarcely had he done so when Carlo began to howl. Ned immediately took the hint, and, selecting an open space, where the trees were thin and sparse, tpok to his heels. He was'speedily aware, by thé crushing in the bushes above, that he was pursued. Taking advantage of the darkness, he rushed into a thicket and came to a pause. Instead of running, he moved with the most 'extreme cautioii. Carlo moved majestically forward. Still the noise of pursuit could be heard in the distance. It became, however, more and more indistinct. At length it ceased. Ned, who could not be still, continued on his way until he reached, the shores of the mighty ocean, close to the great beacon pile they had erected. Ned seated himself on the naked rock, and Was affected almost to tears. Suddenly he rose, and dashing his hand over his eyes, moved up and down. "I must be a man, or else how can they be saved?'' . , . A wild cry arose from his throat next in- stant— u Heavens Г What is this looming in the distance against the" sky? A tall and stately ship, She is afar off, moving in a stately way slowly past the island. She is under easy sail, aiid there is little wind. Frantically, more like a madman than a ra- tional being, he now rushes to the beacon; strikes his flint and steel, creeps into the deep hollow they have left in the centre of the huge pile, both to create a draught and keep the smaller fuel dry. It is like tinder. A spark, a flicker, a flame. Hurrah ! the beacon is fired. Slowly at first, then more quickly, the flames burst forth, caught the adjacent wood, lapped the larger beams, and then spread rapidly. Hurrah again! the indraught is felt, and the flames come forth with a roar. The beacon is on fire. Ned now stood back behind a rock, and waited with a wildly beating heart. The flames gained ground every moment; the damp wood resisted at first, but finally the whole was wrapped in one huge fiery embrace. Forty feet perpendicular in the air. The day and the hour had come. CHAPTER XXXI. NED ПЕРОETS HIMSELF. For some minutes, it seemed an age, the ship went on her way. Then^suddenly the helm was shifted, and the top-sails thrown back to the wind. She was dying too. ,> How the brave boy's heart beat with joy and hope, not for himself, bu£ for Harry and Fred. Then he saw a boat—boats put out, and into these he saw large bodies of men descending. Was it the pirate? No! Such a noble vessel must, indeed, be rather superior to that which had infested the island. It is—yes, it is a man-of-war! They come, four armed boats, in the direction of the island.. They suspect a snare, a lure, something to lead them to destruction. j They advanced slowly in the direction of the: beacon... Ah! What sound is that? A large number of savages are coming down, attracted by the fire. The boats are still a hundred yards off! Ned docs not hesitate. Off with his superfluous clothes, down with his weapons, and into the sea he plunges followed by Carlo. The sea is smooth and swimming easy. The savages, with wild yells, line the shore, forty or fifty in number. The boats halt for a parley. Ned swims out vigorously, and, when half way from the shore, raises a loud and despairing cry— "Help ! help ! help!" The boat dashed in, and in five minutes, Ned was hauled in the boat. *' Who and what are you?" said a well-known voice. "Ned Summers come on board,' was the start- ling answer. Just as if he had gone on shore for an hour's duty. A loud hurrah from the men was the re- sponse. It was his own ship. "And Summers" "Ashore, ffee; but there are two dear friends prisoners." "On, onl" cried the brave lieutenant, "drive the beggars into the bushes." The boats advanced, and when within forty feet, just as the Indians poured in a volley of sweats and arrows, fired a volley, not only of musketry, but of cannons, one from the bow of each launch. When the boats struck the beach, not an Indian was to be seen. It wanted-now two-hours of dawn, and the commander of the expedition at once ordered the men to rest, after placing sentries to guard against surprise. , Then the officers crowded round Ned to hear his wonderful story. .; They listened in amazement, arid before he had concluded, every listener had determined to risk anything to save the two companions of Ned's strange adventures. * Ned himself was wild with impatience. He was with difficulty made to eat some beef and biscuit and to drink some grog. He, however, felt much better afterwards. At dawn they were all ready, and discovered î that their volley had done great destruction. Seven were dead. Carlo sniffed the ground with "fierce im- patience. He scented the blood. After a hasty conference, it was. determined to follow the dog. The sailors, apart from those who were left to ■ guard the boats numbered forty-eight men. They carried cutlasses, guns, and pistols. All were ready and willing to help in the release of the two boys. The lieutenant, the very same who had given permission to Ned Summers and Samuel Pet- worth to roam at pleasure, led the van, with our hero by his side. Both panted for victory, while Ned himself felt no satisfaction in the idea of escape 'without poor Harry and dear Fred. Much as he liked them both, Harry was the preferred. The dog led them on steadily over rocks, to the edge of swamps, across a dense strip of forest, until at length he once more turned to- wards the sea. All turned. It Was quite possible the savages would attempt to escape by sea. - . >' ■ ■ - -Théy might take Harry and Fred with them as prisoners, or they might kill and—— Ned shuddered at the very' thought, knowing these wretches to be cannibals. The lieutenant thought söme minutes. They were on the summit of an acclivity, and just about to descend. "One moment," he said. From a wooden case behind him, which he unslung, he brought forth a large signal rocket. Ned stared. "This will warn ¿he ship to keep a good look- out. They will sec it."* It was soon fixed to a stout stick, a light ob- tained, and ignited. Far into the air it rose over a hundred feet. The dog began to yelp in a low tone; He was evidently impatient, and thé sailors- were none the less so. Oñward was the word and the act; on—on,, until at last the dog lookéd up knowingly in. their faces. They still advanced, and saw at once they had, reached the goal of their wishes. An Indian village, surrounded by a stockade. About a hundred and twenty wigwams, ami still on the shore above a hundred and twenty canoes, A wigwam and a canoe to each family. The village was in a plain below them, and they could see—what ?, A huge pile, on which were three prisoners,, tied to upright poles. In the centre was Sam, to all appearance dead,, stripped naked to his ragged trousers, and one- on each side of him was Harry and Fred. With a savage cry, almost as inhuman as an Indian war whoop, Ned bounded forward, with Carlo in front. The sailors, with a tremendous roar, such as Jack tars only could give, followed. Then they poured in a fearful volley. * Buttrtnd they went at it; but" the Indians, utterly overwhelmed, took to their heels, and by the time the victorious" column entered by the chief gate, not an Indian was tb be! sbçïï" alive. Dead and badly wounded niany'Jay and crawled about; and of the latter, two were making frantic efforts td reach the victims. Л second time giving his agonised war cry, Ned. brained one with his gun; and then bound- ing up the pile bore the, lifeless form of Harry, his withes cut, in an instant to the ground. "Harry, Harry, my dear'boy I" hesaid, snatch- ing a proffered flask and deluging the boy with* brandy ; "speak!" '* (To Ъо concluded next week. Commenced Iii Кб. 158.) ÎT2 BOYS OF ENGLAND. TRUE STORIES OF BOYISH BRAVERY. I>lx rw4%Иоп/* Mw; near*-.? in th>-j wa- ьтюКаИу made n Ииитат. ы ж«»сян- I oofaa y, awaok«b at ein'' . i is* 'U'/ïi do: waa a-d oí i ! y j t и ui oí Iii". yabaaí • хра-и* dannj: the vv n , !v, ?'ív.« '-'¡2.411 oaa>, 'w« ai"- of bw < aO'f r n> a aa obaaa.aa Vi.—1ПИ"ЧП i'MAN bKU.KW, ДПТИ- 1 ïbdu»Uh tic м.-мг . ï iba what bnab r-b ;h«-¡" Abb-werb и Um-Wvs а, о "aa tao- fr* nu tiw WA i; i i,< »u iMwn.vr чр **'•' ^<-;* ;4оЬо anoo, i ahoi ¡ >í i hw sari > oí papt aa ao оапа.а bao* ;'.r аао î lia vry îtaaa bad ïï;i< i<> b-- охрс-о-у, Aiîer I%-1 и W bao hww a.ab- a laaybt W" <*' r!;,jî! of Íü4 < ЧрЬаОа, í:f' W4S Walking o»; ahw" d ,-ho 'л;иоЧ| í" »лг:ч;Г'' M':¡;..ed¿ «-a rry big lllîtlîafnre í. . 5" apab aa Г' -oio..'<',< yVp<; ,.<(м ,t, upj j„. ,,-a î-, -oipp a'* bwa Í ï" wo- of t brawa aab waauaa-at j nadwdpaaoi >чи>п bad r.n aim. and tV liento- j fbwhwh lar, [ aaa: ci aaaaaaebay \v;i- -ooa aî'w .'Ward , -и, b'*d)y ! at ibym > п',\ vat к I wby h« b¡ "v *л,:«";, to tin T;,.î г г-: "''ï*1, it "Г Ь;* îtm. ; уп-т'Ы, Ь" -л iciv- !• «л- Лмчлуп ••vr. | ^onst.-i tía! i< ,n of ti-f ,i!iî< r ï-:. üieaaclers, it was îoM-wi nîi«! is i-'" ri-■!.-' "Mv,-г " })п:т\ as «It'U'î, but for Ги<ччЬчи"ПЧР'<-,<ч* i'i'il -г, i î but î, l,¡: \, ...: ;t ./5<Ь т»- w;t„4 :bat v.-biVb î ¡ -'ub- л b,:íb«' ^'<-otni mvUhl\mtuiL vb;o -u.;«.'-- b«-'í ; bo^ni, )»ouu4 ? • ib- \\\^\ Í ,N bu-i t Ь;1м í¡!,s<'b niib #'fi-b'a vtíUi'o'»i; boa?, b.v's, j<, пйч» г. ;«чч v.;,s s ' ч; ííí;/ ;A>..>'; 'чг }ii,'d¡ to пгот.оо — ;;¡c boítibaí'íbj.íMii <-f î U» k'l"p Ир íbo tHioпи- ^Ьч ',\\ lh\l v,>-:',-y ¡;,M4i 4';,í¡., -, ,bi \Ь"'^Л"-. ,oh¡ Гц íb« r-.;ipb i- i t л i ;1:s T :oi« »f :i¡': д m'/¡í;J г» Ьи] .,.,ч*,-' jr-:¿'; ;;У чт^ч ч/iv, .м-., '¡;i>i ¡ , >■ o;ä, v<. ^ f>;< У orud itiül b'oi.«b:b;My И* ,V • f îhïH. Ьаг!?чГ' >ч- ■ " iy;iry :¡;* i.vtî h I w b-t i.f wao-r i-: h< г ч b-î !, Oíb:,4 ÎMj.| (>lt.. , f y4 ;>i "'1:ч-:ч' ' o*. >4af<4 t lie fiii чу ot.'; O'f whb'h lm<\ b< ; ч <ч /л-b Л ot:b ЬчП' b-т гГ' *,v !о ; *'' Í » и v;u 4о>]. у '.va„ :¡< " ya."" :ч ьу Папа Ьа о ipí iva- ычч íbaa'.nh <ч uaily. ab*," t.> , i-у и. Ai !ам ;-ао was !¡ »w; à » al i í'^Iaav ;,,Ь^и ra-..м i., У;-. : . ab, :a,b boa aab ;ч ! brrvo; y«: ;¡ -a,;, ¡, «Ь,- „¡ a ■<-:!,. -„ ;Ч'-ч-а» naí< ¡ai v<-ry b.-avy 4: o- ir <.fb«o-b lo arf ^ ana >aai!'' b -«"«400 :aaa!,.: "Гаг t bb<; 'iba.-- ba i .,a.,i ba Ч'4'b; 4j IN I»;, 1 b-,4 t !a' yaí.aa: < í 4,0 "уЧа •< a ( 'bar- ', j', a a«iv» ^"oi !a.' ab Ьс<ачаЧ-~ачЬ '>;>> v,-oao< r, b o ar-yo. ba- -Ь'-го, b;-í; ;;, í.. и/ \t ,,¡ f *o t ao; b- ai b • ;a¡ Ь/Г- : ba: í; - а -оа ai b< i.ib'bí ^ • aa aob ! , la Ь;ч !ib> la' bad o,., o in îa-.O' tbarï baaaity _ war.I aaa ba-l h aa a" ;o;.v bai ib-a b'' bad a' \ * : ba'ova -а* 5 asara of ;a í y íoílio tíab, b:o,l ao^.iiiaí o> ;;h a; a —- *- ■ уч:иа Чу <а" paa\aabar a 'O'ry v/i-alby ifp'a? L I11»- w;o 11 <.i, ¡4:0 y>''ah b to î i v*-. aad ача-' bísyb-rbia ba- da}'»-! ib-' ЬЬ'Па b. a- a¡' f'a<".v¡aod, Ь;Ьао ;a; n'a', '•a/a! v<;a:N .ba ha bad I b 1 - m ; - s' a* í tira* 1<* а-^- ib-- ía!b« 04 Ib-i n¡< a, ía г ibî'ti Г' ¡a» v ï. \vab a< r b,\ «•bbdrao :a':oí'V» arbia, <•< «ab ra'-laa,;; aas aafrtab',"! :«v- >a-. ioaoac^y 4»f 's b r^-w b« j 4bbddrT!i noon ?ba world, a.atb i'aav frirads a ad i-i id soaai"аа- шгчаа. i At tía-. br,4 -b-*ood ;P wbiaii !a* was ]/b'n.'od? Ibbaaird yav«' da" Í ba .'ла аиа pro» d o| bb; dar i ta/ • pífb, ': A í,m;o> o¡ od, ..'b 1 a- !'*' \va- a rpaaaiy; < î y.ao , o avdor laa. aa; * ,b.-a !b' a c\a í*}'Í!"'a"* u";r,; "bbaai 'о a : 0 a'- 'b a. a.a'b V/..a:y bfb:"0' vo- f и'',<а,г oa-'î îia- b-aaaaay ,a- ao- a ad :a;"'aa'ba oai ab1 :!a- I. 44b ¡4 ib- v. aa ^a('!'"y dío-a aaa '.-ra b« *'<■' 1b чг- ■ grammar echool, where, having had a dispute vo ' a ajsobb г bi y, ^'"'b'así b<' aaaiv'\ b.a'u4a»d,| a 1 ra a aa му to o'Mp" t b»- ba:ub¡a! s< aa » í a j aiaaibi" <>v '.iihai;(аулх акилчль a ]'-a;k vota s'.'.-.i braaiara: t< Sir Fat wan I WíinU;d. to ш O'bbaaa. aad < ibavd a Sarg« она* would aaiiy it. No < ; '„>..гЬ i b' wí « - b, a a-a a-- '■vj d pa,? my.oba b' Îïy mraîjs of tbf торс he b-bag obay,:"' d uud<-v th< aba to ííod for у)ша \vo«-b • b at da» timo, aad, a. -bat aa. h<» •; -a« board, d-aaart/d wir > ¡a: 44i-, aad pr, к apoa, baaatho romraaad of f]al si Л} a Ha a.oaa;vd îta:» р.-.и j». ;"ab ab aoab 1 ba Kavd I ¡ if tiuy would *р.Ча by aaïa.aaî i-i Ы*» -ачЬ'Г", pi'o- 'aasiîiy b- b- ba> !a-t i<« ■ p. Л ï ta-'Wro-b, At baa« , same ti un-, drawbaa bi- f-ovoid, ba Ью-abaa'd to i ran any one through iiio body wtio mig'ut dihol»ey ! biia. ! 1 Нн wail-bao-'aaa a,ama, wiib las aabaur-'- aricl l¡ lii'iiiïit!^, iiiiilL'd in jriviîiiî hope and «'лаГаЬаюо •А I.» 1!)o dtapa'biîa,' «aaaad, \\la> yra'''0■i b So ♦ »n ab-ra, aao thií isaaa, wHb \ гат<;ЬЬа1 Т")»'^ to pa forward aad oar'bward 1, í 0 - .br. a ï ; Vtaî.-ba !^ fa- aobîa- > d !'a^ wr-.-b a« Sbawa.v- < \bab ooiali Ч|оаь.иру (r; *, w > ¡M 1 d'ayaaaa !cr*-'-v foaybl a) bas aanoa, ba4,wbb ab¡1 ia'bp bdaaaaM i aa.away:- у,,*', и baoa oaaia '^a.-is, Jn- y,! ba' ,aa id. 'y «b- .aïs. oi."V< (•-.•'» of 'bo -baM'd i baï o*;sbaa. i !: : a'i ,b at a aaa'.-banib \ bad, a»aw, .5..<-*,г,дчч}, wiuîo î ia-- *м b 1 b a а/" а(ц. I tajaiiiíi*.i£-bous.c. Bul liuwar-l was d-cUrmined, j Uivcd altar ail to шакс good her osuapía j 'ad altimaioly gaaa'b i;< p-b.a. j Aba: :;ba spbasdio afaba-vaia.oay a, svas nidy 1 lb" alb !nae !i" ba - í 'o'"' bb. '4'aaaibdaa aw ii:d a; ,b- !aal oír h»'V>> íbaoald o^.aa- a i4-at • ^''T^.f"r,'{*. j , j. I I ■ • bdd lo /".waolaib- br -'-'a :' "4V b-- kb]. dj «' , Ь-Г-Ла! ,-bo dd î ,a^aa b-y,. ."Ll" | ар | ib^proa-« mwo .o'd b. w < a-d- r, '* H I a;o. a 'oj a.o ,<\, , í a ;• ■; aa b ',bi'i ,4 / « a. ara oa-o-.a,, abo; bw bo- was b< ^ f ; ba«l al lb. b, j ac, ,;ii>>, y <;,u aaaw та.чу.'"" Joba- dab. ■< аач b. oí ): ao.'aa-b ía wa Îawiï ■ о ; -'^Л1 чаа.му w о паа,о о,,,, ;,i у„ч1 :ab'd b :о. 4'4faí b î fil, aoUwb aoaa, Ь ■ v w!,'bí1' iao."' * ! ic¡.: and Iba w.aaaai wao, '4íp:vd ач abdíbbpaaaa • , áaM ba» »olan^by îia wa-í -a a,(^od ao fail mbfonu, | ЬтНЫ llrs?. bo- "byv for bao ga-bob:, lb¡ o.,.; < a ■ í !a < oba ; acioj-, waafobba/ -оШ!.,Ь da -.eanaaa wb-. o, n; balbiaoy! yf,hî ^'»'kab va-a'o заач? 0"5 on aîaaaa tía a 1; ba sei ved under a awp'oba wiw^o kind and 1 *md awuain^ thu îuwering of the boat ivhíclá warf j ЬЩ* á company, aad Ььйу the hatu biiiiocli", y.. a wo yuídaaldp*a wd«a îaaar t<» íbíu, amí! Itaua-abba>'!y aflaa- tai»' daî'ba.,; a!a: aab' 0!a;-vf fb< ircaio.: Wa-, in îdaad ¡a, - a, a is h«aad ' нааД— j aotío}] ji;ip baaw o-aapbod baa \V!'-''b ло;< У jiP'-a b'a"- yard-.чгт ; aad oaaa; h»' actually spraiaa; *' ГП baaa а; у.-^н! ^wîjîi Ь>-аооАЬу"Ь* "pieces foifji ibo Ь !'«'-yard, '-vlaH bo sbi'p was ;a* iia- fa-t * Tja: ,-,,aa-r Ja* b-t4íb -aid i''d<< v/f aad hl\ (To îm: «iab>ai»- t!,' Iba brd. proííiotjnfí by as oídao an a,(;t as evur í oîh» baad. by амачац f,f which bo a^ayot ijir iainÎHtai>a <>и: day о ^ a,aawîor wiHwl at ímt d.^.- aador informed. !boy aa ЬоаМ\чЫп. 'f wldoh'b- was pft^siami would then nbdioato id da-roar of «ah« rs. naüi h< had umpth d thorn. lb hiw Sfíbt r lV.'TVftl*, Ral.-y iva. a capital fellow, keen niai inceli'hi.'ni; bul within an hour afr« r he had '¡'i! tho si!:!. la: wonid bo a« job у a nnubaaii a.s it \*a.-. }•.oa-db.- in thai nnaaay Ьн nation. In two ht «им he urn t":tíiy ta it^íti hi* <'m и brother: and in ihrao lur w;m noiüna ydiy ikt pntr- nacioti*. but sin; ply comal о.-*» rind ,*:upid* i» which condition lu» mana^od tu ки.р Ыш.чоЬ' a» lOi'-iC a я tho 4,1*"Iit " balad, '1*1 и' nana; by which ikb fiery lapaa* h known I и amor,'; м*ащнп и и et mu action oí the í>pani.di, - fi'/y/tirJÛ rfe. it whüo < Vi, aaia ir 1-,;« íhaí . г ydly sU',r<\ arid my own îkoriaomeî«-r líomow hat abov»' hIo««d- h oat. that we hau id oiîrsol,vo,4, oaoh wílh a bollîo m hand, v.iîinn the Mieretî limits of the »-nrlosury aur- roundhp: tho m^rwîj or ¡ la.-»* of ixll/wxu «'tri- íí;oíí y* П1 п :<»rih-aa4 v.and, a b".v SíTift»"r<-(l .-now Ahlkes drifting in ti;*- air, and oth<-r нушрЪ»тпр of :i ***ver« ndakt.'broabat oar friaids íoubab tryñtin^ î'boo ;<д iba l,Iur,î<»rh', fb-.ч'; oaîhar îh;*n noaU." /lobs *'и! r* uß.i hU íriemJ tu»« IwHUm iu»i %oraa on '•''"ir jcicty h.4d"Wn wondering durincr tb« ^'\V who would. h<- o,da>d upon to enliven i-bíípi iliîriîl:.' tho í-Vi-íilhir. J'liv. voaab-f-, a\,-v>a-f wo; at a:! < :,-! *Ь««ц fí "V í,uw Tom l£aw*<«r »*ntcr ida H;f,rn fi'üuw'ft by a laueh yon a о* г man, S "I h;tvs' brtniyíít :¡, írivüd v.'ílíi me, )»■!• ЬЛПГЦ5Г.!* hü id Tuno uddíVo,-,!!,^ tliíí p.fe',0- ^'í!'oí; "ilf M.n of a»*, oui ío<-s-:naí.c; h.* h;»h vopa.otí .-red to teil a yarn iu-isight.?f í;Wi; >i i all be 1кц)р? to hear vor. г fnomi:' Whirl; hi.-; naint' -л Joo S^upp».?rs.M Mr. ï-VujrptTS iia\ í;.ir h'-o", aoom г о no- vated whh'a -»eat and a gla.-ч, о.лоиюш »•*! hi-t tabo v,hic:h ho informal th»-;;i would b" about Л V JUiSHM 4\ S ■ HOUTU Й1 Í H'<:« ОГ r'ÍX \ »•;!!'*•: Г'«УП;j!H,ard :oj Al шт.-. •\ !-;\'г: г," 11 Til i * hip a,- М:, оГ;п- г, <, -.р !l'f^f iiücofaííTí-'bh' - iiio]«-r,4|,íao nf tf*o Mor-f.'*'-..' í'Hioro horo hr lidd C'í'ojm' wiili lain, 1 *• Thi^ in ш\ pi/ft .-oids «„•};.div with - a Su, ruïivr bdlllt ^v. -,,ry ^oa^oa mido Ii í.< STllKNirru, AMI 1 Ио\ ПК ta; l H M A.-Sd" oí ! O1"«- -o-ïîo-,, !,<«;»' !у h< h. ti," ** l'riíч." a oí о. ;'ío ph",; i i,vi't" ûf: as íí¡»pH.4Í rather gMp's company tliam hud íiüd «рлгл he.-о ли iiïïdtrf tand- do^doirgod ;it "bahid », з anchor at Obitahoo, щ gro»p, ,1 could_ g# î ,»% i,- o, di-.«; aaoti.".' ▼aîn, I protested, ho л aid. "!f~- Fioh- —»tbis or none," wear away another h, , "iV:4,ia:, d* b"l dir., *J 1 tJColao a -оы.«- j 'o'iVio'ie for the i inte î« iu^, ^: 1 bclif-v.-, bad, I boiaï the only white тш on ti'.o! h<:;;oh, that 1, lai^'hi havo* îiv'i-d îïot illîpbotsantJy; ;tií,."io' too;.o barb;i":;o, -: j'Ot that I îrod, with fia} í íd'iya'.vay who ^uito r-odd/a-d M'-lvilío^ ^.dowii:;,; pió-; íiu-t.^ bütíí vmib'HA понг to my ¡d"a,sofa l'«»í y rabian! paradise as any plnrv ¡ iuiTe viVífod, if I luiv except ínif »»r twi* of äho ( :;troj¡u.- l¡d;oo«;>, Iht' th.-»* v¡ г»- l^oif-.odM/,'» i.tíh-f.í ah-'"fdv doad- 1 y Ьл«1 noidè (bu mo-itiif i.íadr ¡ btílo ka«»w!od'.a; of aou'cai о'Ь^нпн? rv. A rudo i ^omtrotion h;oi hvv.v t-f^ídi.da-d br; w.»al«'r,! Arrant od to к i ! î г'.*- i*4 a rai;-,- ;t,c anything of ¡ kind fold ia biabad. od¡ kot'.t coio-taistly ru.uai-o.;, und ¡ bîadaoed »чши'_'Ь oí îhoardnd, tur a «rrand u^kiy: . 4 r, <л»*<Н!ка! of tht* vvi»;?,^ ainl tb«* principal cddoí^, î ;.uîÏ!cicbt to ошту biai aci'o;« tho *'bo found íi more )n*tt-i¿L íü h- tdb.«ct,s thua their ¡ "Сопи; awayt* iba I" said !, Crtvii infusion of cltowvd ka?a-ivK)t. life ' of de- J 4, í foon h »und fdat, 1ù ha a i'o¿¡a'"?dai '0i' ïibV Whíítj lib^üCÍalt;^ I Ï!.U'-L i'-ad ¡i baofh.ay, ^^r? although two нюп ia fboír * üp c**'ap;o:^ f(»r i«'ioh o;h,-r, a -vhor ю >w -fî; n iiaoa b«.f,h. Tiaj na«M d'-i] at, d r-f my wio! • ijal'-od, fb;ro wore a;.;, riwhv чш'Ч.ц th-m, w,w<'(m to the rad; you tit. who roared at the lop of hd-4 ikilt-y. л у от s Irishman > who had been some i voira— jjí"! tí -, и, Nia :o. ;4* Лп î .sar«* enough, it [л afraid re are! (!..••:■: wlí'» had ïbvt tho still lu op«o*aiino, Ьж\: f.mv i di yo ,-►•»' mo лши-ь tla'ir lî^iv inn;/• iàjtikl any man thai iia.s over m.mn tin; linage of the V'W-^hí Yif/j: boa..- ю look врод «tcà migliapely and bastely images as these?" I did not stay to hear more of hie exhortation. The deities of Ohitahoo were, iadeed, worthy of the opit 'oï^b \vh,odi la- a; :oio*I t>> th*a:o. Their faces were horribly caricatured, the mm, of umaoo ak ,dzo, a.-, ai->o гм-rcytho oyi;>J fortood .-f eircular bits of black and white shell; the" months very wide, and noecs flattened nearly to their faces, n-ur,< :Л' К'Л," va* la'.a'h ho-oo* taan fho ©then, being the embodiment of their" chief spirit. By the time I bad gained a position at' a safe dbûoo" na ,ido ti," ra;ds;f î dU-'у had rdia'ibc.J эй the platfonat and, with a stout cilb of cocoa- nut-wood, liad maáe an attack upon one of the inferior deities. His shrill, Irish cry soon attracted the attention of several straggling natives, who itood petrified, with astonishment at the andadty of the thing. Же liad mounted npon the platform in full view, and seemed determined to Ьхате the fury of the whoa, tribo, A âeafeiiÎBg' clamour aro» at this sight, and the crowd of iaftiriated. lavages р'/аог'ч! ir..'a i ad! v»iiii a <-oi> centric rush. Bnt before any of them, conld »ach the .Npot, Da!y h id L-rac<'d hb >;!oa!do:ai a„rai-t tía' grí:at itolai id;rîioii by tÎj*• hxid с» auna*«-н| • fi thoir so va roo' ^'îl * ía.^hoil iato tau in- . „,B¿ aií.saox» at wry «íat«*. y"d "bho fooühaady I.ri'diman íontai hiiii.-al: anrroundíai aia! bron-.í'vt to brt,y. 'п"'4~'.. Nothing damafced, lie retiiroei thídr "r<¿ - y-'lb with иш*го;4, aaal p';i<'d ]d.^ ,-iiubd - '***with such Tigonr, that more than .one of his assailants bit the dost before he was But, hemmed in on all sides,'the unequal contest could not be of long duration. Uaïî.'n-d aod bbrddiaa ho voth ^- * brought to the ground, and ЬишМ bad I O'Oh'I. d b-> О'*.' oil,! ]'Ht î*> d> :i'h 011 too ,,po; ; but, at a «od îmoi \}ъ< kínp:, h- was borne away to a little outbuilding: adj«>ind.o tho ;;(.vat U аИ.Ьо-w, и1а,«Г(;\ fa," the 'present, he was confined under guard. That night, a momentous conference of ad t.do chief* of rank wa« bdd in t!«c maia building, the Mug himself presiiiag} to> decide upon the fate of the^rash stranger who liad i]4ad.' war аров their ;X'^>. A v.isi ipjaati'V of kava was drank [a* this sitting; butетег/thingwasoondncted f wirb qaî'O and d<:oora:a» raid wo out.-dd'-гн waia- i none the wîier as to its result. • f Tho Htih ^ a> wa/.od ja-xt morrainfi. and cord; sea fad t ÎO tho kia^s o,o« ; nod tía- ííro \v:v< k«-pt Hp an.ha it j day mid îiFgid, beiykenia^ pr« pa rations for a grand I í'aiaabab I iXf) oao wa> poj'iniîîo<î ío ,м'о :,;o aoaf ti;e pr; • I ^aia-r, who «a:i k-pt cl'-ody im-arrrrau-d. i All the inquiries of us whites were evaded with íníiaboo ,hab,-» od" i ht* h«ad i.a the part of thu kia,' i and chiefs. I Thu,> wo romaiia'd in ^пяр<оп.-а> f.,r ^ovi,;raî da.v-, » un! d a, '¿foodlv nandú*-!' of «pd.dna 'o-, had b"oa Jd!-"l I with liquor, and preparations fem* a feast had been "made on a grand scale, j Tboa all lia- a"!áan , _ At length a general movement among the crowd announced the breaking tip of the council. .... T!a- mritdî-r„ розгой furth, ail пюго or Î--0-- ir,- toxicated, and their tattooed faces expressive of •term determination and savage Joy, By the king*s command Daley was brought from Ms prison, and the bonds cut from his feet.. With his hands still fetterei, he was ordered to march, between his guards. Every man, woman and child had turned out to oía !la-pna'-a,-í..;;, whi¡b« ti-ok up h* -ha' oí rna-'d i'AMi: Tüi: Too! ritt' d ч1 ms. fovî above ■ with i »Ii ihU -Varo inOUtïO.-d ».;Vei'íd Idol Ч, О Г doítttíF., nal.' •■i'prt^.adtUitíoia- of tha huaaui tuna, car\а.ч! щ TU« pin-.' win í-ffíotly h}hf,*,nl frojn u.í wbítf men; ín-d<4'd,' а о ca 'л л;* ;dÍM',v»;d ío 't oaa 4;f íh:% oaaok, hallbeintrouble.'*' he d.,aaaaaiodj, vvjíi¡ un whoa*- wo wi boforo we аг»- -Tro:tbh' '/ air ai br.ivafi- ч î; Whyf do;dî уа.о Viihw ;bî^ ; - <»hn„ -roo.ad. mal thov m taald î îdo;k îioîio'oa,' »«î takia^ «.atr Ьуо> if wo brt-àk Haa u*l»u /" ■M du boîîï-w îh-"r / _!'(! jf^t b'k" to jo a od; uy, • i h<--<- a,tíyd' ^d ïn/ îaat, aa,l tarovv 'cm do-.Hi to the ground," <*aid h*.', rabin^ clïo t'OÎîh: b'jaor ta in.- iij»J, and takiaif a :<}\>ii'f laay b<- ioliy Oah-y, î kno-л, was* J«i-*t p*t^-m;.r fro;и ?!a- Jolly îrdo the jmpib-ííc .«ta;..'*.*, and îdîia di,i.-e would he 'die. "a rao-a !y, ont-id-« tía.- b-nVo, «* idoln 1" h> of гсщс>1ь4-гаш;о, I took I him at his word, and bnrriod osa of tho inclo.-»an» or \ ouitrt .A »ho loinp'a', î r**iabba(f i'«-r lía* khi4f atal онИ.ч fortiíiad thankedvoa b) ar,>a- ;a.aad A\>* from, fía- b^ajit-r» or faiabaaiao b.»rno 1^ îhidr attendants. uîa! wo ra îi]5t* h?r baoír 1*1 î >- v-ork by tho urne wc reach-jd tho pbav ^kvU'd îbr it. 174 [March 1, 1870. BOYS OTP -ENGLAND. This place, wliich. I had never before visited, was -a spacious clearing, surrounded on all sides by groves of fcocoa-palms: and at one end of it rose-a platform, surmounted by a morai, or temple, of far greater magnitude and pretensions than that which had been desecrated by the Irishman. Th¿ grounds were used as an arena for the athletic games of the people, and also as a place of punishment for aU great criminals. The spot was, at once, the Olympia and the Tyburn of Ohitahoo. Here a halt, was made, and a noisy powwow en- sued; for the chiefs, elated with the fire-water, seemed to have forgotten the respect due to the sovereign. Poor Daley had, during his confinement, ample time to repent of his rashness, and to prepare his mind for the worst. The sentence of death he, as well as all the rest of us, believed to be. inevitable; and we were not much longer in doubt as to the manner of its 'execution. Two young trees, which grew a few feet apart, on •the edge of the clearing, but a short distance from the morai,, were forcibly bent down, by attaching ropes to them, until the trunks crossed each other; and were then firmly lashed together, at the point •of intersection, some ten feet from the ground. I had heard and read of this diabolical contri- vance, though not аз being in use among the South Sea Islanders. I shuddered as I saw the poor victim, despite his struggles, hoisted in air, and .securely bound by the -arms and legs to the two saplings. Dalcy\ resigned to his fate, had said his Inst adieus to us, his coroxadesj who stood im potently weeping, while the whole native population danced andshouted in savage glee at the anticipated spectacle of a man torn into quarters. The king himself, armed with a long whaleman's spade, probably stolen from some touching ship, stood ready to .cut, with a single blow,.the lashing that held the trees together above the victim's head. Sick at heart as I felt, I stood with my gaze fixed ■upon the dreadful sight, anticipating, with a strange fascination, the recoil of the trees, as they should spring back to the perpendicular, tearing the young man limb from limb.: » Ho himself looked pale and agitated, but uttered no cry or complaint, seeming determined to die like a bravo man. He had begged a piece of tobacco from me, just before ho was hoisted up, and the king had allowed me to give him this last solace. He was an inveterate chewcr; and I observed his jaws working furiously upon the precious morsel, as if he were deriving from it his chief strength to meet the terrible moment of trial. The royal executioner drew back his spade, and poised it for the blow ; he upturned his hideous face, -distorted with savage passion, when a copious dash of strong saliva, shot with unerring aim, struck him full in the eye. In his blind fury he launched the spade madly upward, and, with a roar of pain, dropped it to the ground. Instead of the lashing that confined the trees to- gether, the random blow divided the thong which' bound the victim's right hand. Daley now hung in a position not less painful thari before, but one hand was free! With the quickness of thought ho drew his knife, which, strangely enough, had not been taken from him when ho was captured, freed his other hand, then his feet, and slid to the ground, before the na- tives, grouped round the king, had recovered from their sudden surprise. A terrible chorus of rage rang out from hundreds of voices, аё he dashed in among the trees, and .scores of weapons were hurled at him, but with iunsteady aim, and without effect. Daley was as active as a cat at all times, and now the love of life seemed to lend him new strength and power of endurance. I ran forward with the crowd, getting a glimpse of him now and then; but there were many pursuers more fleet than myself, and the fugitive •dodged them all. I soon lost sight of him entirely, and within a few minutes afterwards, the peculiar howls, in- dicative of baffled fury among these savages, gave ■evidence that they had lost his trail. Vainly they searched and beat the bush for three •days afterwards—Con Daley was not to be found, At the end of that time the Euphrates anchored for a supply of wood, intending to remain but a •day or two. Glad enough to quit this "beach-comber" life, I shipped in lier to work my passage to any port where the captain might see lit to latid me. The next morning after I took my bag on ooard, we were under weigh before the sea-breeze eet in, and, taking the trades fresh and fair, had run the land into the horizon long before night- ¡ fall. I sat on the windlass that evening in the first watch, thinking sadly of my misguided comrade, who must, of course, be found and put to death, sooner or later, when a hand was clappéd on my shoulder. Turning my head, I looked into the face of Con Daley standing at my side. "I guess, as we're so far off shore now, the old man won't beat back to land me, so I may as weh report myself for duty," he said. "But how did you get here?" I demanded, scarcely believing the evidence of my senses. "Easy enough, after I first gave them the slip," said Con, "though that was a tight race. You know, of course, that I sent the tobacco-juice into the king's eyes just for spite, not expecting to gain anything by the operation, for I had made up my mind that I must die, anyhow. But his blind blow cut my hand free, and my quick wits and sharp knife did the rest. "As soon as I dodged the pursuit so as to catch a moment unobserved, I dropped under the lee of a fallen tree in the woods, and lay still until the coast was clear. "They have hunted all around my hiding-place, and climbed pver the tree a dozen times within three days, but no one happened to discover me, and I found enough to eat by dodging out now and then, and back to my snug place. A man will never starve in the* woods, in a"climate like this. "The day before yesterday I ventured out near the edge of the clearing and saw this ship's to1 gallant- masts over the hill. I kept still until after dark, and then stole down to the beach, and watched my chance to swim off. I came under the bows and shinned up the chain cable, found the anchor-watch nodding, stowed myself away, between-decks—and here I am," said he, in conclusion. "hungry аз a shark!" "We can soon cure you of that complaint," said I. "Wouldn't you like a glass of dent, too?" I asked, mischievously. ;, "Never again 1"' hè ^replied, with a shudder. .." I think I've learned a lesson that will stay my hand whenever I raise the glass of liquor towards my lips." . I left Con Daley at Panama, and have not seen him since; but I shall never" forget his destruction of the idols. * \' , . - * * '•*.:'* * ;*'"', The young sailor's story was received with great applause. After he had received the thanks of the company, Tom Hawser volunteered a song, while the Antiquary ordered a bowl of punch for the company. And thus they defied the north-east wind till it was time to retire. (To be continued.) ö&mlm'S tax % âpgcwmus. *** Original Contributions only are required, and must be accompanied by name and address. Any puzzle or cliarade received after this date, and found to have been copied from other publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from the same person will be accepted. Ko Puzzle will b* accepted unless the Solutions areproperly worked out. Numbered Charades in particular must have full answers sent wit/i them. Not long ago a bridegroom, returning home from his wedding, was met by a friend, who thus addressed him: "Well, Jack, I'm glad to see thee in thy happy position; thou'st seen the end of thy trouble now." "Thank thee, lad," was Jack's answer; "I hope üave." About a month afterwards, the two friends again met, when Jack, speaking rather warmly, exclaimed, "Bill,, thou tolled me a lie that morning I got wed. Didn't you say I'd seen the end of my trouble?" "I did," said Bill "but I didn't tell thee which end." Good Effect.—A woman once went home from church praising the sermon, and some one said to her—" Where was the text?" She had forgotten, "What was the subject?" She had forgotten. "What did the preacher eay, anyhow?" She had forgotten. "Well, what do you remember?" "Oh," said she, "I remembered to burn up my half-bushel." She had kept store, and used a bad measure. Consolation in Grief.—A very covetous man lost his only Bon, James. The minister came to comfort him, and remarked that such chastise- ments of Providence were mercies in disguise; that, although in the death of his son he had suf- fered a severe and irreparable misfortune, yet, un- doubtedly, his own* reflections had suggested some sources of consolation." "Yes," exclaimed the weeping but still provident father, "Jim was monstrous eater /" An occasional correspondent of ours, meeting a party of settlers the other day in Texas, inquired from the conductor what the men in the first wag- gon were intended for. "To clear the forests." "Well," said he. "and what arc those in the second for?" "To build the huts," was the reply. "And that old whitb-hcaded man in the third waggon— what is he for?" was the next question asked, to which the reply was given, "Oh, that's my father— we shall open our new cemetery with him." Our correspondent did not inquire further. i. Two armies aro contending, one led by a kin?, and the other by the son of a lung. On the battle-field the ground is covered with vineyards which impede the cavalry of one of the armies, and the hedges protect the other, Tho whole army is defeated and the king taken captive, and died at the Savoy, a palace in the Strand. Name tho two kings and the battle, .with tho date. A. W. MASON. II. In whose reign did a battle take place which, from the rapid flight of the cavalry, it was called tho " Battle of Spurs?" Give tho proper name of the battle and date, and whom between did it take place. A. w. Mason. hi. 1. A title. 2. A fino ypirifc. 3. A warm spice. 4. A number. 5. A town in York. G. A musical instrument. 7. A country in Africa. 8. Rich tapestry. 9. A town in Lancashire. 10. A fragrant herb. 11. A small river. 12. A country in Asia. 13. A bird of prey. 14. A wry largo animal. 15. A county in England. 1С. An arrow. Tho initials read downwards will give tho name of a celebrated novel by Lord Lytton. B. W. Peerhund. Wife of Athamas ; a son of Jupiter ; daughter of Icarius; a god of tho Egyptians; a title of Pluto; a son of Jupiter; a celebrated prophet during the Trojan war; a nymph beloved by Apollo; the priests of Bacchus. Tho initials will give tho name of a person killed by Hercules for re- fusing him and his eon food. E. W. PeersiüND. v. г Y' Whole, I am a negotiation; curtail me1, and I am an entertainment given; behead and reverse me, and I am to rend in pieces; transpose me, and I am a weed; transposo mo again, and I am a price ; curtail me, and I am a trouble- some animal. E. W. Peermund. 71. A lako in North America; a country in Asia; a river in Asia; a town in India; tho name of islands in the Coral Sea; a river in Canada; a large country in Europe; a town in tho United States; a gulf of Asia; a town in Nubia; a town in Ross; a- county 1n Scotland ; -a mount in Samaria. Tho initials read downwardi will give the name of a novel by Harrison Ainsworth. E. W. FEEnilTJND, VII. My 5,2, 7 is a jewel; my 10, 8,4,13 is a title; my 0. 6, 13 is a colour; my 1,11, jo, 10, 2, 3,12 is. a Spanish ship; my 10,11,12, С is a narrow street, and my whole is tho name of a painter who, died in 1804. E. W. Peermund. 'VIII. My first is in week, but not in day \ My second is in the land, but not in the earth; Ну third is in eight, but not in bait; My fourth is in paper, but not in rags; My fifth is in hog, but not in pig; My sixth is in aunt, but not in uncle; My seventh is in the hand, but not in the leg; My eighth is in the toad, but not in the frog t And my whole is the лате of an animal. r : macjoiin Venning. ; IXi ( ■ ••• - A binding; an earnest wish; à reverberation ; a covering for tho head; an abbreviation for "unknown an anima'; a colour ; a man's name ; opposed to far off; a rugged poin; of rock; a fish; a'thing worshipped; an animal; tht opposite of a friend.. The initials read downwards name ¿ >tí talo inthe EOYS OP. England, and the finals downwards ■ a baronet in the ваше talc. W. F. TRINDER. ANSWERS TO CRACKERS, No. 1G5. I. Bricklayer; baker, cake, sea, rye, ear,.clay, He. black. 11Г. Score, core, ore. IV. Valetudinarian; rind,' rideau, dint, lure, Vandal, lead, lent, ruin. V. Cricket ; rick,.tfck, ice, tie, Eric, Rice. VI. Snail, nail, ail, sail. VII; Norman Kenrick; neck, knock, kick, mace, Rome, rock, Aaron. VIII. This problem shows the wonderful immensity of tho figures representing tho emount named. Counting at the rate of 360 per hour, or 3G,000 per day, it would occupy a space of 30,555 days, б hours. 34 minutes, 40 seconds; or, to bring the idea within grasp, 83 years, 2G0 days, б hours, 34 minutes, and 40 seconds—far beyond tho averago of a .human life. The gross weight *>f the wholo would bo 18,333,333ilbs., ox 163,G89 cwts.,- GSjlbs., or 8Щ tons, 9 cwt.f GSfclbs. IX. Hubert Arden;(bed„rat, Jca(j, hat, run. X. Ko'rman Eenrick, Philip s Périls * KaP, OH, Rabbi,"MalL, Alkall, NáP, KindncsS, EarlaP, NosE, RoaR, Icenl, CowL, KisS. XL Jasper Wadlow; pear, wasp, Jowles, dower. 'XII. Charing Ciofs. XIII. Correspondent; corps, spoon, rest, cod,.pond, dent, nose, depend, ten, ton, tinder. XIV. Astride, etrido, ride, del i.e. XV. Water-Tigers, Hidden Crime ; .Witcif, Amarl, ToaD, EnD, RomE, TeN, IsaaO, GunneR, Ell, RaM, ScE. XVI. Mary of1 Scotland, and Elizabeth/« o'f England. XVII. Hidden Crime; den.mine, hide, men. hind, mend, ride, did, mind. XVIII. Who Shall be. Leader; Dee, Arras» Elba, wood, Aral, Looe, head, heel. II. ACT COW TWO MAlïCn 1, 1870. J BOYS OF ENGLAND. **** AU Communications to be addressed to the Editort Mr. Edwin J. Fleet Street, E.C. *** We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to gite medical adcice in the columns of this Journal. *** Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents in a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. *** Correspondents who wish to receive replies by post must in atl cases send stamped directed envelopes. Joiin Han.-Wc send you the origin of the saying. Damocles, a Sicilian courtier, frequently extolled the happiness of his sovereign, Dionysius, who was surrounded by wealth and luxury. "Will yon," one day said the latter, " make trial of my felicity?" The offer was accepted, and Damocles was ushered into a room where the most magnificent repast wa-s prepared; luct-nso, perfumes, and slaves of the greatest beauty appeared in profusion. What followed? In the midst ot all his pleasures, Damocles cast his eyes towards the ceiling, and perceived the point of a sword suspended by a single horsehair over his head*, all his joy vanished, anxiety took possession oí his mind, and he learnt the useful lesson that, even in the highest stations, there is.always somcthinir which corrodes our hlis«, and denies the presumption oí peifect happiness. Hence tho oft-used tenu of *' the sword of Damocles, 'imaginably sus- pended over the heads ofpet sons In critical positions. IIappï New*Yeau.—St. Valentino ivas a presbyter of the church, and was beheaded in the time of tho Emperor Claudius. It is supposed that the custom of choosing valentines upon this festival took Its riso from the brilliant virtues said to have been possessed by this faint, who was u man of sreat talents, and famous for his charity. Before the interchange of the poetical epistles known аз valentines introduced, it was the practice for gentlemen to consider tho first lady they saw on the morning of St. Vuleu tine's Day as their sweetheart or valentine, to whom they were expected tp make a present; these gifts яге mentioned by Pepys and others In tho reign of Charles II. as consisting of jewels, &c, worth some hundreds of pounds, îORKsiitKE.—(1.) Longman and Co., of Paternoster Row, could supply you. (2.) Wc should think not; In some casc3 diseases have been hereditary, so,lt is said, such.as consumption, fíout, and *• other, ills the flesh is heir to.*' (3.) Wc cannot.tell; there arc no>eryfast steamers on that lineof route that wo know of. • (4.) Wc believe Colt's. (G.) Wo havo heard Yorkshire pudding, and very good living too. ■ ■ A Would-be Sailor.—(l.) In both services you will have to pass an examination, so that you mu-it understand tho common rudiments of navigation before you start. (2.) Not over 14 years of ago in tho navy. (3,) Certainly not, (4.) Yes; and the pernicious habit that boys have got into of smoking is not only injurious to themselves, but of loss to their employers, liefore you indulge in smoke, get substance, and don't spell am '* ham." •CimoNos.—Jan. 4th. Ш1, the live members were arrested; 8th, Prince Albert Victor born, Ш4; lr.th, British Museum cstjibiishcd, 1759; Kith, Battle of Corunna. 18СУ; 2bt, II, llaljam, historian, died, 1850; 23rd, William Pitt died, 'SOC; 27th, New South Wales founded, 1783; 2Sth, Charle- magne died, 814; 2i>th,George tho Third died,lb20; 50th Charles the First wa* beheaded. Hog GpuftTEu.—(1.) The hot-cross bun is the most popular bind of religious¡ food left to us. The cross marked upon it Is symbolical of the Crucifixion, <2.) We cannot exactly, say at what particular date Christianity was first. introduced into Wales, but it came into Great Britain in tho year 150. (C) Cardinal Richelieu ivas born in Paris in" 1585, and died in tho samo city December, 1042. (4.) Peel at the back of your head. (5.) Head your Bible attentively, and you will tlml what you arc so anxious to learn. By so doing you will benefit in more ways than one. ÎJridcewateâ IIarry—(1.) By taking the СЫИсгп Hun- dreds, a member accepts cilice which renders his seat vacant. (2.) Your handwriting is very good; practise steadily, and that will lead-to improvement, and we shall be happy to hear of it. John Brown—(1.) Most officers wear them. (2.) We should think it would hurt your constitution in any country. (3.) Yes, in time, but it is a long time betöre they attain ma- turity. (4.) Certainly; a personal defect or deformity will prevent your entering the army or the navy. -скаршЕВ—(l.) Yes; the height is very good for your age, but it is diilicult to tell you how tall you may grow, and that is the.long and tho short of it.- What in the uatno ; tall that is i-ood do you want to bcidn smoking for at your &rc? ,(3.) Your writing will do for a railway or shipping tíjlce.' (4.) You will see them as they are issued.' 'jiouNO.-The Amazon is the largest river in the world; it ft upwards of 4.000 miles long, und is navigable throughout - live-sixths of its course for vessels of large tonnage. The length oi the Mississippi has never, we believe, been ascer- tained, hut ц is-navigable for small craft up;to St. An- ^aiüuy'ä falls, a distance of 2,400 miles; 1 1 i ;ЛЛ^1г?3'пк lt be necessary for you to plWnfviiÏÏ crJ m,a!tcr of tnc ttrt'aml t»en practise as hard as you can^whlch is the only thing that will render you perfect. (J.) Yes; rather under the mark. (3.) Vbrv с nod. and eminently nuaUflwi fnr « ^и^^л^Г' v cry good, and eminently qualified for a eoltcitor's office. Л Foreigner.—We are thankful to And that tho Boys of England correspondence is pleasing to you <ïГ No money is required to answer questions, therefore № send any. (2.) bend the tickets you see marked *• Prize (3.) At present wc cannot tell. w A"zu A Kossall Boy—(1.) You do not mention which of the Lord Napier* you want the information about. (2 ) In No. 53 ot the Bots of Lngland you will find the way to make a model engine. , 41 J Anxious Youth is informed that a steward's berth is not so easily gained. In many cases they pay for their berths, and the remuneration depends upon tho lecs and «ratuitiea they may reccl vc. What ydu would havo to do you would , quicklv learn when aboard. PftTER Piper—(1.) It is likely that the tale you write about wilt appear in a separate form, but wo cannot say. (2 ) „ When the time is advertised. , , , Bicycle Вов—(1.) The numbers of "unlucky Bob" will cost you 18 stamp.-*, postage included. 12.) It is nofyct decided upon. , , ( An Лгг-rentice—(l.) A few more numbers will complete the talc. (2.) Y'ou mu>t send in all the ticket-«. Direc- tions have been repeatedly published respecting them. G. B. Shaw—The contribution you have sent to us is most respectfully anil With thanks declined. A Boy of Dublin.—Send the stamps, and the Play can be at once forwarded. Runaway lion. Y'ou will And how to make a model steam епд.пч In No. 5íí of tho Boys of Kngi.ani> Journal. 1 °biTico.-Tho Premier lias justentcrcd the sixty-first year of hia age. •J. T—ïou will see them duly advertised. L. Howard.—(1.) Consult the columns of tho Era news- paper, ana you will, in all probability, And out tho where- abouts of the individual. (2.) Certainly not; but it is a practice you might avoid, (a.) It will invigorate the frame and perhaps, have the effect you wish for. (4.) About 5 ft. 6 inches. (5. ) Will do for cither. J. Wilson.-The premium varies from £20 to £100. Wo should advise you to seek out a berth on board of some ship belonging to Messrs. Green, Wigram, or Smith;.they stand A l in the shipping world; but;the premium is Honolo—(1.) It will be advertised. (2.) Impossible to tell. (3.) It is very good, but you can improve it if you think proper. We know of no cure; perhaps the one cigar and the pipe ha* something to do with t*.; if so, give them up. Sooiakle is informed that no doubt all the talcs that so emi- nently contributed to the amusement of so many thousands of our friends will appear in a separate torm; tho numerous letters Ave receive upon the subject is at oncea source of encouragement for us to do so. W. S.—The Bank of England is not a Government Institution, but a joint-stork company concern. It manages tho Government uusiuess lor a certain income. If you put money into the funds, it is lending it to the state, and it is, therefore, guaranteed by the Government ; but if you keep a private banking account at the Bank of England, there is no Government guarantee in the case. W. G. Corbett—We return you our best thanks for tho great interest and your kind donations towards the Life- Boat Fund. Although the subscriptions have come in rather slowly, yet wc still hope to carry out'our project. Again we thank you, and shall leave no stone unturned to gain success. (2.) \ye arc sorry we cannot afford space for the list you want. Wo trust you will Undone appended to his works. J. W. Jones,—Wc cannot, at the present time, inform you whether tho trade you speak of is doing well or not lu America. We dare say that in that land of freedom fluc- tuations occur in every branch ot trade and commerce. (2.) Do not send your tickets up until the time is advertised for you to do so. Dudley Stuart.—(1.) Tho MS. you speak of wc have no recollection of, but it shall be searched for and attended to. (2.) Your hand wilting certainly requires great improve- ment, but, at 18 years of age, it ought to havo been muck better. , '■ V, "? John Gray.—Thanks for your donation to the Life-Boat Fund. 1 Grcat^crcdit Is due to you for the sketch you made, which, seemed to havo the desired effect; and we hope to receive more from you In furtherance of such a glorious and national object. "• . *.\ 7. L. V— (1.) Very shortly you will see the advertisement specifying the time. (2.) Unless you have any .interest With a manager your labour will-be all in vain. ilea of acknowledged name and talent cannot at all times get their productions read. Y'ou had better employ your time moro profitably. Tosí Daiiing— (1.) Y'ou will havo to pay for your outfit. (2.) A boy should never commence smoking; it leads in many cases to slothful habits; avoid it altogether. (3.) You will sec the tunc advertised and receive lull directions how to paint the characters. Jdvenis.—Wd really cannot tell you respecting the works you mention whether they aro сорз right or not. We are not certain. It is a fiood edition. Pitman's, wc have heard, is the best system of shorthand. G. Bdxton—We are obliged to you for your steady support, but you must be aware that there arc many thousands like you. Y'ou can only get a prize in the samo way as the others. Fair play is the motto. Bill Speight—Candidly, we must say that wc do not think it is. In the present days of education, merchants and tradesmen look for something very good when they engage a clerk, especially in penmanship. At present, yours is a long way off tho mark. A. It. Ukquiiart,—(1.) The cause of tho Polish Insurrection was the wish of the Poles to free themselves from the Russian yoke. (2.) Wo do not know where the person Is you mention; we believe he is a member of the Diet. W. J. Salford—(1.) Wcare sorry to say that we cannot assist you with your drama. (2.) Handwriting prettygood. (3.) Shakespeare was bornât Stratford-on-Avon, and lies buried within its church. Will Plavendek—(l.) The lines you write about are attri- buted to the late Sir Walter Scott. (2.) We should advise you to place yourself under a writing master; ho will bo of service. Black Darvil—(1.) It Is impossible forus to tell you, unless wc went to Hampton Court. (2.) No; and we should advise you not to enter the navy. MiDsniPMAN You cannot purchase a situation as midship- man in the navy; it Is only obtained by Influence with the Lords of the Admiralty. Frank Hooker—(l.) It is not illegal. (2.) It will not be long before it is concluded. (3.) Consult a bookbinder. CiiRioüs.—We do not know the age of the lady, and if we did, must decline telling you or anyone else. Constant Header—Evil be to him who evil thinks. Thanks to you lor your good opinion. Wanting to Know.-On Boxins Day 40,000 persons visited the Crystal Palace, and nearly 18,000 the British Museum. T. G. Adams—You can havo tno tale you mention by writing to the publisher at tho office, 173, Fleet Street. W. J. Maine— You can have the scene by sending stamps. Wc hope your ** theatre" escaped Injury. G. II. lt—We do not undertake to bind works; you had better consult a bookbinder. Timón of Athens—Mr. C. J. Mathews, the eminent comedian, was born in the year 1803. J. \V. S—At present your handwriting Is not good enough for a situation as clerk. J. Porteóos.- Consult your bookseller. How is it possible we can answer such a vague and unintelligible question? Youngster—Not yet. A little moro practice may perhaps fit you for the situation you aspire to. J. II. -Of course lt means** over " fifty. Parchment—The questions you ask of us have been re- peatedly answered in former numbers. J. Baster,-(1.) Sec answer to ** W. L. V. (2.) You must forward all your tickets. (3.) Very good. A. F, N.~Wc have no hitentlou of doing what you ask for some time to come. J. L. C—The area of Yorkshire In acres is 3,735,040. J. A. C—No; It Is very crude lor your age. Jonathan L—You had better send up ** ail"your tickets. SÇMETHING GOOD! Mr. Edwin J. Buett has great pleasure in informing his Readers that the PROMISED GIFT with No. 108 of the YOUNG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN WILL CONSIST OF A LARGE AND MAGNIFICENT Drawn, Engraved, and Coloured expressly for that Work at a cost of over FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS. The size, of this Splendid Picture will be two feet by a foot and a half, and will represent An Exciting Scène on the Shores of Old England During tho Oppressive Power of the Press Gang. Hit. E. J. BitET-T a?Furc3 his Readers that thi3 will bo one of the Grandest Gifts ever presented to, the public, and, when framed, will grace either parlour pi drawing- room.' '.-, In presenting this Grand Gift, Mn. BnETT? wishes to state than he does so as a mark of respectée-his Readers for the powerful patronage bestowed on 'the Young Meh OF GrtKAT Burr aus. TWO .HEW STORIES ^ Will commence in the same Number, ono in conncctioa with the abovo Grand Picture, entitled, THE PRESS GANG: A STORY OF OLD ENGLAND. By tho Author of the "Rival Crusoes,'* &c., &c. ;< Tom Daring," Tho other New Story will be one of ßCHOOL LIFE, entitled, ";■ HURRICANE TOWER: OR, THE SCHOOL ON THE CLIFF, By the Author of "Friend or Foe/' ** Rcdlaw tho Bushranger,'* ¿ce., &c. With numerous other novelties, altogether making No. Ï0S of the Youko Л1ея op Guuat uuitaix one of tho granaest Works ever produced. NO EXTRA CHARGE will be made, and the Number, with picture, will be only charged at the usual price of A NEW TALE, Entitled, TOM LESTER'S LEGACY! 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Those who desire to take in this favourite work, should give their orders AT ONCE' to their booksellers as it will be only supplied TO.OltDJElt. » TO OUR JEŒADERS I Mr. Brett wishes Ms Readers to understand that if any handbills have been inserted in his Works, they have been placed there without his knowledge or authority^ by some person who has taken a mean advantage oj the popularity of the "HOYS OF ENGLAND," « YOUNG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN," and "BOYS OF THE world;* Those three Journals being the only ones Mr. Brett is connected tcith. MR. EDWIN J. BRETT;; Wishes to inform his гсайсгз, in acknowledgment of the great favour bestowed v.pon this Journal by all classes, that he intends to present Gratis , . . A SERIES OP MAGNIFICENT GIFTS, to be continued week by week, of a most novel, amusing, and instructive kind. * These gifts will entirely differ from anything hitherto given whh any journal. 170 Г M *.'t<:H 1, UÎ4. BOYS OF ENGLAND. ROBIN HOOD ill HIS MERRY MEM, AMD TUB LAÍíICS T.'TKV I'LAVf-Ili L% By t!b? Autur u í.'oHíf. fin- irn 4;,'a -f Vf.;d î ;yt¡i tb»' |<*Г*'Н*. j.-iAVH y", f ' г» ;î, • î i ,"i «И'!','!', ili.'tt y..;; -could ■ hardly '''$* ''• Я 'fj, 'H • »,! \'/,,|,» y —. U'.íl'Ai Jîn i}V Iii; гг>?у,-~,ц, ¡ni.-vr or ivlh'î, v. i! Ь - o'Ul b''i;i^ îa'-.>-n »iy for il, ;и»<| VVa.i llïtli !*„' /<_> /•'/,/ < :î с Ver. «, i ir-* €«/ Л Í¡«<1 b<< Ь ï, i ; • ; * h vit^ï v. л \ < * ihr ir i' - '- íi лу!гг.' pivtr.i Vi il sb'~ iÎî'ib v*vv., • Г" 'îu-ljivVi':,< î Ь >Ul <;r.-v. lb»;y lv<; WJj.i, Fi ХМ. í\ Ш: i', A ,S< ? 4, I ó i» AÜ i' L V j 3 lí Jl 1 AIL A S 1 » \\ i i и LI, V i « TIEASOX, ]'«','IЛ* ï'iobîfi И,';» Püíibí,; Ht (_'r,':if ¡í^bVIV íil'-?y(]V, tir■:■,•< j'.ir ¡ S¡t• <'nr:< tír svrvV, For 1н- faimû ihm two oí hí< m'и ra do; tn;-- Ilk; churgí- W'.it ,k drunk *.wmÍ dburdüiw/ü 'r AT.IÎ IIRÍTinlÍM OH til*'": ÏVlîfe; AvA ib*: - ;\f t,h:<" "а-г-'т-сг! ¿*>*evy, i,low ine ti-„Ut!" ■'<•''! Kobi» i»v. <:ni-'l. и Tili; bs Ii;;.£c ti..v/. 1 Ctil áUL¿ I r*'M. ?h»-r» ; ¡«(ii!, ,4;aí j-, ;> : л í i Í'í ;«V ií;,*!!)-;;; w^ík.'j Jî'.bh», 4IHÏ Í'.míkI MiJtrl; ib.. Mííb-, "Г' П->' 14|!MÎ!'/, V< Hl t'A' .!" У',-' ;;H'tt f'.fj. »' i.4f,'„:;.,ai', *' l'vf* ;ч ;i Ь.*дП1 ¡í¡,! f r< / ¡,"4 nWi: í< ',;íí-] :*n t.i;,¡ty f(; ss ?-I-per íh ihcír < !í v,r:ú vvÎH-n Í?4-y-i.í \ч IjM' <''íí>T í'<,!:ü, V, !(■.•'■ í 'Г'И/' t t)«e Hí'íüíi'tir í'alcntfi b'-ya^ íi;;i,b^ th** иурм'п'плг, "i'Uí ;;fr,ík ,kv4 íi ! )'í,-u ju.jr it. У"НГ worsliij'/* fíMy.- Il».'b¡íL lírluyítii: îïii» к*".>,-,<' ну 1';Ы;с. г í, í. *' Af :¡lT \Л'г.хи Ь; <>\л],л;< • ";>. Ь\ Ь". - î':.:- п!у у », г«> í¡ Iî i-v-t . Ь<"(ч*', íy- •! ri Ь'1л síM.-íjlib'rs, wlub.' bi> <*(4:U'luit!-, Уи;»><: bfiiní.-д be Ь;iti M.-i'it'îly cut, но that î I,*'}' liiiybt b»« ;Ин"1Ьо îif<;;4' * .i,-ííy и, vit ;ьчм» í,M,,k hwlH «if 1 h" (-Чм;г t'ü'i !«,.! pnj.'t;t] fe ir dear bí<\ ■ of lue::, ^ {"ilXVYkll V. . t><;yi> >, -, by v.f ti г'/, ,¡; , Jt v/iis ümt jolly frbir Tii'.k,' ! <¡-l jf'íl o'St;,*•" hu¡, !. I Kn'Mi, J ,<;ir<: «И. íh- '-ví.b'lX/ fííar S V."' о ¿ u.> ь, •* í '/ ' • foe. Th.Hi íí L" !;;к! he*:l', ч î'U'.i'>jr. * ГЬ t.» Я»- ,ч ."Ф ь;^ I; t;'..»', ¡ »' í 1!>.Г :'r';ir ilii- V¡s'v '*.I ил !-':, í :и J liv ííiií h-,-\í "п.* ,.,' I ^ '/p 1,.; ;r» Л , J M « Jí íi j .Mu- < t-í th<« ríver. be /í // //• \ "'<'h thv frí.ir ( 1 (iuií'i ntw,i Í!»í«/ ! )¡*; w:«U»r. frf <''#Hr-V,', ! hn! it*s« г»!fi I;na riff.'bb г,тu'Jy y;i!.hvi-1"r,;,f nati-rrrt^.-.*.'^ I "I V, -,!ït î" -.г* t n*'*'iîi>c îbU, î4bb»/4 at bim *Mh m , , "ihiiwb'T ïn îh»' bwMl bîtf«kt*t," lUut L*,h 1г«лп'*п*(«,.п.* *^"Ч!ПТ У'/.'Ч * r bli-w .•..,în«-wb.-rH b»-i*»w tb*.» rbí'«tt wbíeh coinph'tr?;/ i'.: !"-у;< ч, wíaic íic KîcKt.a j },;Г1<;|у:,ч| иПГ ь„гм /,•/// <>f wh**i ;ш<1 tbn wai.fr, Uhen- л1П1!,'иЬ.:«1 villi ait th« s*trmi£Üt b»;« b;ni ¡bífí, vlAch w,iM»4 a very iih'irîiïiiîy <¡\uúi'f,-;ti 4 «lrai4-„'i'í| ti,.- î i-.;*;; b.t;f-fs •^'п\*-иЫ i- J 1 маши i, ш;о. 178 [March i. 1870. BOYS OMNGLAND. The other was a stout man, with curly brown hair, and a naturally florid* complexion, that had been embrowned by exposure to atmospheric in- fluences in all parts of the world during the greater part of his life. Dressed in a dark blue jacket that, reached only to his hips, he was leaning back in his chair' smoking a cigar* The window was open, for the sun was shining brightly and warm without, and the balmy air- wafted into the Toom the fragrance of the roses and myrtles that were trained against the wall, and garlanded even the windows above. "I thought this business could be better settled .over a glass of wine than by correspondence," observed the bald-headed gentleman, looking at the glass which he held between his eye and the light as he spoke. "Well, yes—perhaps it might, Mr. Lester," rejoined the other, after exhaling a long whiff of blue smoke. "If it has been any inconvenience to you or the owners, you must make it an item , in the| account," continued Mr. Lester, with a cackling laugh. "I suppose there will be a pretty heavy bill?" "We shall not hurt you very much in that respect," returned the brown-visaged man. "Oh, I shall not complain," exclaimed Mr. Lester, quickly. "To tell you the truth, Captain Bowler, I shall not be sorry to have the lad out of the way," "Troublesome, eh ?" said Captain Bowler, re- moving the cigar from his mouth for a moment, as he looked intently at Mr. Lester's half-averted countenance. "A little wildish, I suppose?" "Yes," replied Mr. Lester, after a pause, and with his dull grey eyes fixed upon a spray of myrtle that, agitated by the zephyrs, waved before the window. "It is his own wish to go to sea, I under- stand ?" observed Captain Bowler, "Oh, yes," returned Mr. Lester, quickly. "That is the one point lipon which the lad and I agree." He again indulged in his singular cackling cachinations, and the captain rubbed his head for a moment with a pensive air, before he resumed his cigar, "You sec, Captain'Bowler," said Mr. Lester, with his eyes upon the glass he was filling, " the boy's interests clash with mine, to some extent, and—you understand?" He lifted his dull grey eyes to the captain's countenance, but withdrew them immediately. "I understand that, \ Mr,, Lester," returned Captain Bowler. When Г say that I shall be glad to have him out of the way*, you may give the remark a wide construction," continued Mr. Lester, gazing at the blue sea in the distance. "If he were to take it into his head to run away from, the ship, and live amongst the savages of some of those islands between India and Australia, I should not be surprised, and you would not be called to account if you. did not delay your voyage to search for him;" ;*' - • , "In*short, Mr. Lester, you do not want to see the lad any more ?" said Captain Bowler, looking fixedly at him. ■ "That is just my feeling in the matter," re- plied Mr. Lester. "The lad is troublesome, and, as I hinted just now, he is in my way. I want him out of my way, Captain Bowler; and, if the 1 Boadicca ' should return without him, and you .were to come to me and tell me that he had been lost at sea, I should not mind giving you a hundred' pounds for the news." "You would give more than that, I think," observed Captain Bowler, speaking slowly and distinctly. "If he were never to come back, the property would be as good as yours; and that is worth a few thousands, I reckon." "Well, say two hundred," rejoined Mr. Lester, "Five hundred,'^ said the captain. "No, no 1' that is too much," returned Mr, Lester, fidgetting uneasily upon his chair. "Not a penny," rejoined the captain, coolly, "Consider the risk" "Five hundred, then 1" exclaimed Mr. Lester, with a slight flush upon his sallow countenance "But. I'must have proof that he will never rctunrto trouble me," "Agreed," returned Captain Bowler. "Give me the undertaking in writing." "Do you doubt my honour, Captain Bowler?" inquired Mr. Lester, with some. asperity in his tone. "Not at all, sir," replied the, captain. "But the document will be more business-like than a mere verbal undertaking." . Mr. Lester rose, and quitted the room, which, he presently re-entered with a paper in his hand^ which he placed before Captain Bowler. It was undated, and ran as follows :— "I promise to pay Captain Bowler five hun- dred pounds on proof of the death of Thomas Lester, "Simon Lester." "Good," said the captain, as he folded the paper, after perusing it, and placed it carefully in his pocket-book. "Now let me sec the young gentleman." As Mr. Lester rang the bell, its tinkling drowned a slight rustling of the shrubs below the window,, occasioned by the movement of a handsome youth, apparently about sixteen. years of age, who had been concealed there during the latter portion of the preceding conversation. Excited by what he had heard, Tom Lester- for the listener beneath the opea window was our hero—crept, away cautiously until he had turned the corner of the house, when he darted into a plantation, and ran towards the fence which bounded the estate which he had inherited from his father about a year before the period at which our story opens. He bounded lightly over the fence, and walked towards the Holm Bush, where he threw himself upon the green sward, and looked pensively I towards the sea, which stretched out before | him to the horizon—here deeply blue as the un- clouded sky above, there shining like molten silver. At his feet, as it seemed, "but a little to the left, the harbour lay,, sheltered from the rough gales of autumn and winter by its ^massive breakwater, known from time immemorial as the Cobb. There were six or seven coasting vessels lying there, and between these and the small sailing- boats kept for hire, a, trim little yacht rode at anchor. Upon this yacht the gaze of Tom Lester became fixed before he had laid long ирод the grass, meditating upon the conversation which he had overheard between his guardian and Captain Bowler, Then he sprang suddenly to his feet, and began to descend the steep path leading to the town. There was an air of determination upon his handsome countenance which showed that he had formed some ^resolution as to the course which he would adoptin the position in which he had so suddenly and.unexpectedly found him- self. •' v' On reaching the town, he entered a shop near the custom-house;; and, having made some pur- chases, proceeded towards the Cobb. -''I want to go aboard the yacht, Joe," said he, addressing a brown-faced young fellow in a blue guernsey, who was sitting on the edge of the sea wall that extends from the Cobb to; the Church Cliff, engaged in carving, with a knife,' a model of a boat out of a small piece of wood,- "All right, Master Lester," responded Joe, consigning knife and wood to the pocket of his trousers. He dropped to the narrow strip of beach below, followed by our hero; and, in a few moments both were seated in a boat that had been dancing at the water's edge, and Joe was rowing towards the yacht. The vessel was reached in a few minutes, and our hero, telling Joe not to wait for him, clambered up her side, and leaped lightly upon her deck. There was no one upon deck, but his feet had scarcely touched it, when a shock of black hair was protruded above the hatchway, and a brown, good-humoured face was raised towards him. "What cheer, Master Tom?" said the owner of the good-humoured face, a young fellow whose attire diifered from Joe's only in having the word "Petrel "—the name of the yacht— embroidered on the front of his guernsey, and who looked about a year the senior of our Hero. .f Come into the cabin, Dick," rejoined Tom; "I*have something very important to say to you." ': Dick scratched his shocky head at this in- timation, and followed our hero into the'little cabin, where everything looked 'as bright and neat as polished brass and mahogany could make it. "Have I not heard you say that you would like to go to America?" inquired Tom, as soon as they were in thé cabin. . . л "Aye, Master Tom," replied Dick, "I'd ha* been there before this if I'd had the chance." "You have got it now, Dick," exclaimed Tom. "I am going there, and, of course, you will go with me." "You bain't having a game with I, Master Tom, be you ?" inquired Dick, who evidently felt uncertain whether his young master was in jest or in earnest. "Not a, bit of it, Dick," replied Tom. "I. have made up my mind, and I am off to- night." "To-night, Master Tom 1" exclaimed the young sailor, with a look of surprise. "Look here, Dick," said our hero, "I know you are the right sort, and I do not mind telling you how I am situated. You know 1 that the house yonder, and. all the broad acres, belong to me; but if I die before I am twenty-one they go to my uncle, who is my guardian until that time. Well, my uncle wants to get rid of me, and I have overheard him bargaining with the captain of a ship that is to be at Plymouth to- morrow, outward bound, with that view. I was to be left ashore upon some 'distant island, amongst savages, or got rid of in any way that - was handiest." "Lor I" ejaculated Dick, opening his eyes and^ his mouth., "I had no objection to the voyage," continued Tom, "and should.have rather liked it, indeed, but my life would be in danger if I sailed with Captain Bowler ; and so I have determined to go away in the yacht, and keep away till, I am 1 twenty-one." "In the yacht, Master Tom 1" exclaimed the young sailor. "Why, yon never expects to reach America in this cockle-shell?" "Why not?" returned Tom. "A craft like this will often live through a storm that vessels of the largest size go to pieces in. I have ordered a good stock of biscuit, and beef, and preserved vegetables to be sent aboard, and you must be ready to get her out about one or two o'clock in the morning." "Aye, Master Tom,"" responded Dick. 11 When we get to America," continued Tom, "we": "Do you really think we will ever get there, Master Tom?" inquired Dick, whose brown countenance had assumed a dazed expression. "Of course we shall," replied Tom. "We will sell the yacht and her stores, and look out for employment. I daresay we shall not have much difficulty in finding something that will suit both of us." :He left the cabin as he spoke, and was about to swing himself into the little boat that Avas dancing astern of the yacht¡ when he suddenly stopped. V г ГЧ J "You will stand by me, Dick?" said he. "To the end of the world, Master Tom Г* replied the young sailor. ■ -\ * Tom t then dropped into; the boat, and in another "moment was rowing towards the beach. CHAPTER IL; ; \ aboard!THE YACHT;Г ;>' Captain Bówler was the guest of Mr. Lester that;night,: and our young hero.was to accom- pany-him to Plymouth the following morning. . ■ But,' about an hour after midnight, Tom Lester stoleJ noiselessly1 from his room, with a bundle under each1-arm; and descended the stairs with the stealthy^ tread of a predatory cat. ■ r„ * . ¿ On reaching the hall he paused to put on his boots, and then passed through a passage to a door leading into the garden at the back; v MàÏICII 1,1870.] 170 BOYS OF ENGLAND. Noiselessly removing the fastenings, he moved cautiously away from the house, and crossed the "fence into a pasture-field. The night was moonless, but myriads of stars shone in the dark blue sky, and the air was *balmy and soft. Not a sound broke the solemn stillness of that hour except the melancholy murmur of the sea, as it rolled up the shingle far below. Tom reached the beach without encountering "the one policeman of the ancient borough, and, throwing his bundles into the boat in which be had come ashore, cast it loose from its moor- ings. Not a light shone from the seaward windows of the town—not the faintest echo of a footstep reached his cars. He stepped into the boat, pushed heç off from the beach, and, taking up the oars, pulled as noiselessly as possible into the harbour. The navigation was not very intricate, for there was always room in the harbour for a inuch larger number of vessels than are ever found there, and in a few minutes the boat was alongside the yacht. "All right, Dick!" said Tom, as he sprang upon the deck, where he found the young sailor preparing to lift the anchor. "Aye, Master Tom," replied Dick. "Stores be come aboard." "Up with the anchor, then," exclaimed Tom, 'throwing, his bundles into the cabin, and sending his jacket after them. By their united efforts the anchor was soon brought home, and then Dick loosened the white «ails, and dropped into the boat to aid their im- pulse with the oars. By slow degrees, owing to the calm that pre- vailed, the little craft was got round the head of :the breakwater, and immediately began to rise ■and fall in a manner to which it had long been unaccustomed. Tom and the young sailor clambered to the deck of the yacht, and while the former took the wheel, Dick proceeded to furl the sails, the zepyhr-like breeze that gently fanned their cheeks being calculated to impede the progress ■of the vessel rather than to assist it. 9 There was light enough, even if the harbour light had not been flickering at the head of the breakwater, to enable them, to keep clear of that structure, and to shape their course down' the 'Channel. lt Westward, ho 1" cried Tom, with the light- headedness of youth, as the little vessel obeyed the helm, and, yielding to the influence of the -current, began to move towards the broad Atlantic. "I am duberous about getting var west'ard in this craft, Master Tom," said Dick. "I was never beyand the Land's End myself, but I've beared zay as American-bound vessels have to cross* the current of the ocean ; and" ".Wcllj Dick," said Tom, interrupting him, '"do you mean to say that the yacht will not do that t Ц will be a little rougher, perhaps, than •a fun southward would* be. but we must not mind - •that.*'' ^ ( '"Oh,Jït 'is riot rough'weather I am thinking *on¿ Master. Tom," returned the young sailor; "we cannoUiave it much rougher than Pvezeed ,it on our own coast, many a time. But about the navigation, there's riout but the compass a- •boardj-you know.", j • . , 'Tom paused, a, moment, as if struck by the force of Ше, young sailor's reminder; but his /ïnind refused to see the difficulty which it sug-, Rested. u Oh, we shall get along all.right," said he, :■• striving to dismiss the subject from his mind; '"'we must keep her head between south and squtn- west until we are well round the Start, and then keep, her on a westerly course all the way. The odds will not be much whether we make Hew York or Boston." "I wish we had a little more wind, Master Tom,!' said Dick. "If Mr. Lester should scud round to Bridport, and hire a tug to chase us, or if Captain Bowler should put to zea directly he beaches Plymouth without waiting for you, we '■should be overhauled bevore we are out of the Channel as zure as a gun." Our hero turned his head towards the little 'port at this ominous suggestion, though he knew pursuit at that early hour to be impracti- cable. Some hours would elapse before his flight would be discovered ; and Bridport was six miles distant, and in the contrary direction. "4 "Not much fear of that," said he ; but, though he spoke in a tone of careless confidence, he several times looked towards the coast as the little vessel gradually increased her distance from the Cobb. The stars were now fading out one by one in the grey light of early dawn. The little town and harbour disappeared from their view, and the hills beyond grew more blue and indistinct. "I shall turn in now, Dick," said our hero. "Keep a good look-out for the Start, and call me if a breeze springs up, or anything suspicious heaves in sight before I turn out." "Aye, aye, Master Tom," responded the young sailor, as he relieved our hero at the wheel; and Tom disappeared into the cabin, where in a few minutes he was fast asleep in his berth. The clouds above the eastern horizon were now gleaming with purple and gold, and the first beams of the rising luminary of day tipped with crimson the waves that swiftly coursed each other down the Channel. Higher and higher rose the sun, until the rippled surface of the calm sea shone like molten gold ; and Tom, rocked by the gentle motion of the vessel, still slept. Dick was leaning over the stern, with heavy eyelids, when he descried a waving line of dark smoke on the port side, just above the horizon. He felt that he should be glad to resign the watch to his young master, and mentally re- solved that the distant steamer was to be con- sidered suspicious. "Steamer to port, Master Tom!" he shouted at the cabin door. "All right, Dick," responded Tom, and in a few minutes he came out of the cabin, with a telescope under his arm. "She cannot be a tug in pursuit," said he, as he glanced at his watch. "I do not know what she is, bat there she be, Master Tom," said the young sailor. "May be you can make her out." Tom raised the glass to his eye, and saw in a moment that the steamer was a larger one than ever cleared outward from Bridport. "That was a clever device to turn mc out, Dick," said he, laughing, as he shut up tl^c tele- scope. "But I have had sleep enough, so you may turn in when you have made a fire and got some coffee ready." "Aye, aye, Master Tom," said Dick, and he immediately began to prepare for breakfast, while our hero took his place at the wheel. "This is what I call jolly," observed Tom, as he sat at his breakfast, for which the sea air had given him a good appetite. "If it is like this all the time, it will be fine." "It be avine time of the year vor crossing the Atlantic, Master Tom," rejoined Dick; "but we mout fall in with a smartish hurricane for all that." "Well, I daresay the « Petrel' will ride through it if we do," observed Tom, surveying the light and taper spars of the little vessel with an air of pride. "She would dance over waves that a steamer of two or three thousand tons would break her back upon." "Aye, there be zummat in that, Master Tom," rejoined Dick ; "and now I think it be my turn below." Tom found the deck lonely when left to him- self, but he knew that Dick required sleep, and he kept the watch patiently until the young sailor re-appeared. The setting sun was reddening sea and sky with its declining beams, when a breeze sprang up, and the sea was almost immediately streaked with lines of white foam. "Now we will have some canvas on her, Dick," exclaimed our hero, as he felt the breeze fan his cheek, and saw the light swell which it occa- sioned on the surface of the sea. "She tacks well, you know; and, if this breeze lasts, it will soon carry us into the chops of the Channel." The jibs were accordingly set, and the yacht soon began to move over the f urrowed waters at an accelerated pace. 1 • CHAPTER III. A STOEM IX THE CHANNEL. "This will do, Dick," said our hero, as he watched with pleasure the progress of the little vessel. "We are going along fine now." "We are like to have too much of it, Master \ Tom," returned Dick, whose brown face assumed; an expression of anxiety, as he pointed to a dark * cloud that was rising rapidly from the horizon. {:- Tom looked grave, but his mind did not ^ realize at once the extent of the danger that was \ impending. The breeze freshened rapidly, however, and the dark cloud spread over the whole sky. All at once darkness fell around them, except where the red light that was fading out on the western horizon shed its lurid reflection on the foamy sea. "Down with the jibs, Masteri Tom!" cried Dick, who was at the wheel; and in a few minutes our hero had hauled down and secured the small three-cornered sails, which alone had been spread to catch the breeze when it first sprang up. The squall swept over them immediately after- wards, and the yacht, ^yielding to its pressure, rushed into the trough of a great foam-crested wave that came sweeping along, but rose the next moment, buoyant as a cork. "What a gust!" exclaimed Tom. "It almost took my breath away." The gale moderated immediately afterwards, and light broke through the dark clouds, in- spiring the young navigators with the hope that the wind would settle into a fresh breeze. In less than half an hour, however, the dark clouds united their broken edges, the red light in the west faded out, and the gloom deepened. "It is coming again, M aster Tom !" exclaimed Dick, and the next moment the squall whistled hoarsely through the standing ringing, and the foaming waves again came tumbling one over another. The yacht bounded wildly over them; but they had the satisfaction of finding that she obeyed the helm, and though scudding along at a speed that would be dangerous on a lee-shore, did not exhibit any symptom of straining. It was now quite dark, and the lantern which Tom had affixed to the mast only rendered the surrounding gloom more impenetrable to the vision of himself and his companion. All at once 'a flash of bluish light illumined the sea for a moment, and then, as a blacker gloom settled upon the scene, a heavy peal of thunder rumbled across the heavens. In a few minutes the watery contents of the black storm-cloud descended in a-torrent, and a sound like the seething of a mighty cauldron mingled with the hoarse Whistling of the wind through the standing rigging. "We arc in vor it now, Master Tom!" ex- claimed Dick, as he bent down to avoid the piti- less pelting of the storm. Tom retreated into the cabin, and put on the thick pea-jacket which had been bought with a view to his contemplated voyage with Captain Bowler. Then he ran aft'andäseized the wheel. "I will hold the wheel," he exclaimed, « whilst you get your waterproof and your sou'-wester." "Thank'cc, Master Tom," responded Dick, and resigning the wheel to his young master, he dived quickly down the companion, whence he .returned equipped in his waterproof habili- ments. Another flash of lightning lit up the foaming waters for a moment, and its bluish coruscations showed them a large screw steamer, with all her sails furled, on the starboard bow, but- at some distance from the yacht. They saw no more, for the next moment all around was wrapped in gloom. Then the thunder rolled over the murky sky like the sound of a thousand chariots driven over a brazen arch, and had scarcely died away when another electric flash illumined the sea, followed by a crash that suggested to the mind of our hero an assault of thc' Titans, as recorded in the classic lore he had become familiar with at school. Flash now followed flash, and crash succeeded crash, with scarcely a minute's intermission. BOYS OF KNGLANI). ♦* ( у ид ми'úw lJí(iir«'-Ía-:uí oí ;»mf * in f n « • r# PícL Г rxaíannad l' .jjî, for nach llaab -dnovod »iiiTil 1 ii'' . Ma-í'.-r T-am" ПЧ'.ШнМ i 4* ho! "i'> *,'¡Ki' ;i turn aí Ьл- v;|/ <Л, tiara whb" y-*u i. г y n.jaakr a олЛ" .-ait i 'ban, ЬапЛЬл" î u¡- ;ba-o lo ib" ^<;:u;í ы%.',>п\ aau gnn4pintf ib»; íü>; ?r, r»"v of ib»- «nn, and t b* • íi the raí я - УШ-* «; **'УЬ«' bi^ rV;J „f inundar ,ü,,i av,;iv a- ROMANCE OF FEENCH H1ST0EY. tía* *и^ни<ч: una 1Ш. wnid ^raauaby sut*. Im л; «Ii«. И/ Ьл,ч-хо. !í;'i;nM ТИМ KAUSJKST АЬЬЛ, ! * ГАМ 4M» í'.'tb,-;- -.'i ,' it-'. гилгтк!;. IV. тик ш;о !»пп\i:t-]h>'»k. о о а о n í! i* had no лаао aboard, nob b i> л va аола. Ma>Ua' Ton i a поалоа abb « •! aof bala ааЛлЬ, and a i/-С" Mrrv," '-''í í 5 'i'*-.. , i braa, 'han 1,'>!1Ч' know !liai д- 'i,- ií. \! ííír.-U of íiíjbtíiíi,/ Houdrd ai! j bavo raí» *»>m»» о1магн:.' or.t oí ha: онн>'- н nab¡ h,-> Чы.-Ь apbf, - N.'.v li ¡a ',; Ы i w^a» ib»- tum; vbh-a. Ьо .aots-M 1 bagaba a- mw»*h," <\чс-Ь;Ыоч| Tonn uTha j >лл- h-Ть и.- av<»íd ba и ñamar and 'ho <''v>aboa * íí.'a-íb'va/ by ai! !! i ui ia a b<ал ала; Лл!" Ьл*Ь.' —■ î - * * i ■ s „ "Г! <* -,;o|f frotll Pjym<-í:í;:, Мл-а,,-;- 'Г- >*' î I¡j- fbo« >¿h?f Î in'!', tore, whi/O Ь.о '«."îl'-" -»nid Oit'k, opt map» w alo hb «'\<'.n aî',0 '.;i»'v.i¡)\, ; • ; : i.. i ?hf .4 i un''- а»п«:г '.vor»- vom* í-% hí'T ']'*.uí," г' гош-Л fork, tl >!Л'л а а: л, п-Г w'o - h» t hoy wciv Oj.'X'of liai" 1Л ;лЛлл;а ""л* 1 takr Л,оа îc« оо \\о!ЛЛлЛ, ллаЛ r''-níií>x IЛ bv"- а< >¡ Ь>- a<-î*-î и: Л'л Л,. i* Л1л а IV л- b; а Ьа -ал t Ллл -bo- л л,Л; -Л, ГЛ,-' ,. -л» ! \\ -ь ^.íia,' <"b la W'^t »ч :у, лл- 1»ол»а1л,' j ао чщм'ко w;í:> i'iv-uba; frota bor íuan^K b, ,-tv "Ib1! ' ,vo,h'í^ лаЛ Л'-лл í; 1^ЛлЛ1 » Ь,а Л« г -oo'iv v/a- s о* Л ол íy ;t л-. :о !аЛл !i,f ;,avbî, о> ¡ Л oí п л ■ -trata; Ь,- ''.>.ло-о, . л<>л/ ;з: нл n t ;- ■ -mah-r о, 4 oji.aî,i-; ;. г Ьл :'ш чч;л-«а л-.лигьллО'Л Ь;. , к br;,: ^.v Лл ' Ь> л Л'-'' о' Л;о Глл1 îj' xi Л;.-oí oí' !лЛЬ üiaa ii.vroa.-o.J iЛ<> лл.-р.гла! i-vay Ло.лгЛ' « аЛалл braí- f о• >;c,tuor sv:í- 1 Л'4 *" boa,ai!"'лЛ" by '--o-v. M, a» ;.«• *•;>:.; u - a* ."г-ЬЬоч о Г t Ьл аат|иЛ:;а? Low- a ол! ;.o; alï л'Л ban агл, ллл.у ю 'ío.-í :о:п> a¡Uí ЛЬ» o. ihr bibo . л of КуЬиц w borí* Ь«* <ал'ои!а<алЛ ч Л^ л'< í i а, !л, |()„.,, {» ч, л !'•■!:-}.: 'V мГ |Ло „:,)Ч, ф;,,- - ал л л«'Л Л ! а а- «'лт (^,.^,.г, (¡( *" !'а; а- л ■.о,!,a oí ,„ vàaV'1'l' 'ü'< s ne ma-1 < г, a» Soi V, л/ I Lo -<'л a b;¡ wají all Л ;Л' О; in; vee at a dim' bvr липа a.jito.i ■8 ,• i* а<л'Л. :a, vMa/ laaa галл; Ла\'»- !-.♦(' ; ;Ьл' 'V.:b a . b Ь> О -лл Ь'л- baa ;' ;-Л:о о» 1ла »Ь.¡ i. of (ht- yai л,-i in ,■'< ;л,лЛ, ;;,лла. M, ■ лоьа' - л -a; pa-S ia "!î Л--Ла но л- a- fa "Thaï Д1ла'ллЛал .-bava-, Мал'лт Л"о;лЛ' • b. , i ï - > т i. ■ лола-> b, -\л л - V ti b( аал;- wObí bv ho! мл or ií Ь,л уа< 'л' ЛаЛ Ь'Мааа лй- л л л л*.л а лл- ЛЛ.'Л'о|оЛ to Л, VVi- KÍloUlb ааУл ;,:.яд- D^vv'iO' л -Л ! ^ л л V' л, ч Л Л о "* b-ook tur***?, Млн1л?г Tum Г r'xaiaimoa НЬЛ;, i !л аЛ^ллл f'HoIc on Id î i: i ii i. н ai U taira ЮшлллЬ a-, ал о by. a' iludí oí ! «;aîy ir, );»ч Kuírí. ?;n«î í¡b¡;¡i¡!i,-t а/аалл I írojn Ьл л aaaky л!^л \ ,>">,,: ;; < ''■■■'"i *.va« л-.г, qnirlç оно-: п ta) >рг» wi;;it bj,j " пла)о., b'v "оала:.- Ьл га<Ли. Ooiüo.ííbon "boirb fa ••'all ла л:!ол1;ол л», {,}Г ¡ о \|, ]и. Г-,(Ло(] ], иЛЬ% Л!аПа а U,,î ги*х1 ианаа-а а!Ьта-' baíii а^па. ; ¡mi ЬоЬ,л ' ш ,и.<, Т-м. "ь'аг.'ю,! fo,îi;*fîu. \l¡u\h, 'ь;а ui.aa! a laarfaî «tîihîi, arui Üb" ои> v/Mau-b-i .b:j:ir.M taa'v 1«, obaiw ?/Я ЛЬч iivtisorM, a;í 1 '*ur,vubn aiaii, ajiü the :bib,v ;b: b.aabbrl s •* \\'Лп!. ь* п.л алиа *ам-и мимо- spoa bai- ааг,\ »а»аа ibi'.aa^a bar* *'!4o.,¡4 t b"H» M ^ ^niiHÎsof tlH-ob-m^ital Ktrifa. "j vo.a-u аал"г, |на,аЬаа la tira ааа; пц>» Ьл-1 ba; ■ л • ■ I him of teiaia ;^'„v( ллЬ ):ri-mv'Mi>iW wara алл]а for лл/ 1 ( ' г у Л V,- b,'1 U - . a tbo оШ'л'О-Ло ХЛллол, í ал, .¡io Ьлг bova of Tí!.-M. Ьа'алЛ',, wilîa зЛл л-о-> la.rao í л:лало лл i ■ г ал • ¡ ла: î Л< 1до í ал f лан Ал ла о Ai the s'tn',.' i |ще, the iinfortimate monarcb of brtaasía, wbo uvilvml :is л ^ира'ЛалЬ was treated i Hak b' ,sabî laa ■ i'У la> (a r.-aaavr with ЬаЫancas aial ,áís- T<-аа'' * ••а'ЛЛаюЛ í ía- rt .-а-лсЛ, Naa-olo а. -ллааЛ him р«:яаа, but deprived 5s containing upwards of one- -, kaia'b aa, -Ь'^'/аилалла! Лам ovar Л' очллляъ-Л I bib , , . х fita-b iatvc а, л'су upOéi tíia |»i>oi.* víriiuvv.» ibít.. T.,¡a ao sonnor saw î tî<" situation Ы tía- uuíor-. ha:;b,f lia-a-гниа po-pola h-iva ;:ли' ui'ií it!" !tar,.!* • а.ли, ta;»?i la- '-I а гирл íü«U Лгорр»л^" Vbbaí-t N.a-ob .a' \v:i4 a.a'aiibaa^ l'a* w«>jM, •V'-'b';'»' '*-vbl íliuh saowob baria tha -b..j' ; by b, nr-/ it,.- 'ooattba? was ^uhcí!'*.,' .a-,! ta ti'Л' ¡íaa ааЛ, '!-'¡í^hí a'.:a Клалло by Ль rapb!vir'.orirs, be «ЬИ« *h'iv !i;b_ Juki |Ki,,savh with tli" main- I y'aciit. oauahf. щ> tint uaivs and ¿.miM vi^oruu.sly ¡ made the iatict iVal iba iruii hand of pf wr, 'oaa-ab u£ wrack, ¡ И .adah]i*,h*M t u«- imposts the abiinss, and i iia' t ;ч; ЛуааЛа ,s o{ I be atra'oaf îaaaarcby, - The prase was kept under by a merciless ~ censorship. The emperor nominated all tie »orjrd !o' a.'í'joíí " a4 tht* thief baid îo , pabbr un:: îb>*nirî*-s and ihfy waa плач- Ь.Ич n«.r>?in:r »'iho a. alaaaiM of avi! spirits, roaaaia., j ^»"' k a.-av»b, " % ; | m hi:-, hand, Individuai Hbrrty ceased to axisb м'.щ' tho h.'iV'oo that was baiuar wrought aivaa to. aa and Ьл» ЬцаУиа- Mid ihuad.a; war a! an -sí ¡ar< Tb iva ¿h H'aa«/rd lí bo.,vn lo la ina* un гааг'а l'ha aaalb. ^ Лмаг i hay wra* 1 imu-i, valti ab iu ng^inti. Ьаа(а!а,ц* ovar th-- « »«/.лаиМ* ih" díii'io- ;,; f: •v'íd-a i t'i'o be i'taaíaatit.) bao aoî-лл aad now attain' Л ifs иЬал.Ь taps. ЛЛл' raia - лаа-d, to гла !Uriv Галоч ач Л w a • bbvoa by tin- witul tint whbtird !bivaah Ьл ibabidiao' raía (bo fj fb, í!¡o baa|ii'.-,! a,ora bin v-' маЫл dioaip and f h¡ л i л<„- Л boato.!' îioa Ьл Ьаа:а'у lie Í «j'iia a-,Л,-г b"«'amc«a ap-'-bra oí роЛЬала! hf\ Win у- о- ^ а <л> а> by «хлл;а \ « on'ti-.m гол s ¡.o. ('-*"а -aalyirr' л!И tin; a.adt lo, abnl to di ibtS ihr í¡:,;vor of'thO 1 '"ah'iioiaü - ...t,- <'<-<• "'♦*';'", . \ои,!" oí Ь-лало wa^ annually ílruwn from b.- }>;_. И;ГЛЬ ;fc-d^-«^-'>' KU,i 11 4"ï l, л„(;;,;Чо,а, Л Naj;< b'oîb* annh s, aiid p-mh Ibr » <;ам.а:о i и î Лл tira, pry**- Л bi< Jb.ylbb '¡ р'Г^шЛьТ k'J.^-al'-'. .* 1 * Ul"H rfU' j to acap- y t ал аЦел.'поаоГ X.apob.,,»^ ; !ladî a-Ьл i Havana лпаплаМ íiaia- v,b i h Ib^ba and * adao's i i ,<рп [j; }¡« ,t,v boaan 182 [MakcIi 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND, A STRANGE CAREER; OE, THE FORGER'S VICTIM. CHAPTER XXIV.—(c of sailors, as witnesses. Hatton was not present, Pendle having, at the last moment, felt a doubt as to the propriety of putting him in the witness-box, fearing that, if any statement were made by Oscar, Hatton might be recognized, and so a clue given that might break up the fine-spun web of evidence he had prepared. Pcndle's solicitor stated tho charge, and called on Pendle to give the first evidence. He proved that Barbara Pendle had been his daughter, and had fled from her home, to the best of his belief, with the prisoner, and that she was possessed of a large fortune in her own right. He had lost sight of both her and the prisoner for more than twelve months, till recently the latter had returned to England and forwarded him a letter, alleging that he had met Miss Pendle on board the * Mermaid * in the Polar Seas, and that a marriage *had taken place be- tween them, but that she had fallen a victim to the severity of the climate, after bequeathing to him the whole of her fortune. He had strongly doubted the truth of the story, but, owing to the unfortunate loss of the "Mermaid," and the reported drowning of all hands, he had no means of examining into the matter. About a month since, however, he had heard that a whaler had arrived from the North seas, having on board the only two survivors of the lost vessel, and from the information given by them, ho had felt it to be his duty to institute the present charge. The two witnesses followed, and gave their evidence in a confident and straightforward manner, and, in spite of the strict cross-examl nation of Mr. Prewis, the charge seemed so clearly brought home to Oscar, that the magistrate, without hesitation, committed him for trial, refusing the heavy amount of bail tendered for his appearance. * * * * # The Old Bailey Sessions commenced a few days after Oscar's committal, and as Pcndle's counsel was successful in resisting a motion for a post- ponement till the following assizes, an early day was appointed for the trial. To Oscar, a speedy termination to his troubles was most desirable. Hope had left him, for the clear, well-told \ story of the two witnesses, nearly every incident of which he had himself placed in Pendle's hands, left scarce a point on which he could con- test the issue. The court was crowded to excess. The circumstances attending the supposed murder were so romantic, and had been so dwelt upon by the newspapers, that the public looked forward to the more minute details with feverish excitement. Oscar was led from his cell along a gloomy passage to the prisoners' dock. The eager eyes of hundreds of faces turned towards him, all scanning his features, and most of the crowd believing him guilty. The sight of this sea of faces filled him with dismay. He turned ashy pale, and gasping for breath, clutched the side of the dock. He glanced towards the bench. There were three judges presiding—the Chief Justice of the Queen's Bench and two jmisne judges. Then he looked around the court. Sitting beneath the banisters he saw Pendle, apparently as calm and collected as though he were merely assisting at a public show. The word "silence" was called out by the court keeper, and the whispering and hubbub ceased. The clerk of arraigns rose, and read the in- dictment charging him with the murder of Barbara Pendle. To this he pleaded "Not Guilty." There was then a slight pause, after which the leading counsel for the prosecution rose and ad- dressed the jury. He began by describing the position in life of the prisoner and of Miss Pendle; that she was possessed of the sum of £40,000; that the prisoner had paid his addresses to her, and had induced her to leave England, disguised-in male attire, for the Arctic regions, where he thought he should have a better opportunity of disposing of her or getting her out of the way than he would have'in England; at all events, it would be less liable to discovery. In an eloquent and pathetic speech, he dwelt on the enormity of the crime, a crime not com- mitted in the heat of passion, but planned in secret, dwelt upon for months, and at last carried out thousands of miles from the spot where it was first premeditated. The first witness called was Joe Bryant, a fellow with a stolid face and large eyes, who stared round the court with a brazen impudence that spoke well for his nerves. "What is your occupation ?" asked the counsel for the prosecution. "I work at the docks sometimes, and I do odd jobs when I can." "Have you ever been to sea?" "Yes ; I have made two voyages." "In what vessels?" "First of all, ten years ago, in the 'Dasher,* and Last in the ' Mermaid * to the North Sea." "Are you acquainted with the prisoner?" "Yes." "State when you first saw him." "When he joined the 1 Mermaid,' before she left the river." "Herein London?" 1( In the docks." "Did he ship in his own name?" "No ; he shipped as John Williams.1' "You swear he is the same man?" "Ido." "Who else was on board the * Mermaid V" "The captain, Mr. Bingham, a Mr. Lechmere, and a Mr. Wood." "Who was Mr. Wood?" <( He turned out afterwards to be Miss Pendle." "The young lady who was murdered?" "Yes." "Did anything particular occur before you reached the cold regions?" "No." "What occurred then!" "We got among the ice, and the ship was locked in, and we used to go out hunting for seals." "Did Mr. Wood go out hunting?" "Very seldom." "Can you tell the jury how it was that Mr- Wood was discovered to be Miss Pendle?" "Mr. Wood, as we supposed he was, always seemed delicate. He very seldom went out from the ship, and when he did, the cold seemed to lay hold of him a good deal. One day he waa brought home fainting." ¡ "By whom?" "By the prisoner and another man." % "And what occurred then?" "The doctor, in attending to Mr. Wood, dis- covered that he was a woman." "And after that this Mr. Wood, or, rather, Miss Pendle, dressed and appeared as a female ?'r "Yes." "Have you any reason to believe that the pri- soner knew who Mr. Wood was before the dis* covcry by the doctor?" "Yes; he knew who she was. "Why did you know that?" "Because I overheard him speaking to another sailor. He said that Miss Pendle had got forty thousand pounds in the Bank of England, and if she died he should have it all himself. This was- before we knew who Mr. Wood was, and so I didn't take any notice of it. I thought at the- time he was speaking of some one in England." "Did any marriage take place on board be- tween the prisoner and Miss Pendle?" "None whatever." "What occurred on the night of the murder?"" "Miss Pendle left the vessel to walk on the- ice, and the prisoner was with her. I and Sam Johnson followed them at a distance, and when they got behind a clump of ice, the prisoner struck her on the back of her head, and she fell on the ice. She seemed stunned. She fell by the side of a deep crevice in the ice, and the pri- soner shoved her with his foot, and her body rolled into it, and went under." "And was never seen again?"' "No." "What did you. do Г "I told the captain what I had seen, and he put the prisoner in irons for the first two or three days, but the ice began to break up and the ship was in danger, so he was released to work with the others." "The captain meant to hand him over to- justice?" "I suppose so." "When did you last see the prisoner?" "On the morning of the day that me and Johnson went out seal-hunting, and the ice- broke up." "Did you see the ship again?" "No ; we were separated on a piece of ice from, the ship." 1 "So you saw no more of the * Mermaid?"' "No, sir; we were on the ice some time before we saw a ship, which proved to be the 'Dolkeine,'; a Swedish barque, a whaler, whicb put us ashore on the north of Scotland." "And you are sure the prisoner is the same- man as John Williams of the 1 Mermaid?'" "Quite certain." "Be careful," said the judge, with solemnity,- "be careful; remember, upon your evidence rests the life of another man. You are quite certain this is the same man?" "Yes, my lord, quite certain," said Bryant,, boldly. "You have not the least doubt?" "No, my lord." A sensation of horror ran through the court, and every eye was turned upon Oscar. Yet, perhaps, none were so horror-stricken as- he himself/ His eyes seemed dimmed ; his face turned pale as death j he clutched the side of the dock to save himself from falling. The counsel for the defence then rose for the purpose of cross-examining the witness. With all his ingenuity he failed to shake his statement. Pendle was too keen and sagacious to leave a flaw in the chain he had forged. It was, as far as could be, perfect, and baffled the wisdom and experience of the judge, and the penetration of counsel. In Bryant and Johnson Pendle had two clever disciples -, once well up in their lesson, no amount of cross-examination could trap them. So accustomed had they been to gmrigr МАНСИ 1, 1870.J 183 BOYS OF ENGLAND. evidence, that they had as much skill in defeat- ing the questions of counsel as the counsel them- selves. Bryant was told to stand down and Johnson ¿ was called. He corroborated in every particular the evi- dence of Bryant, and, in like manner, all the efforts of the prisoner's counsel to shake his testimony were unavailing. The defence appeared feeble, and, while entirely repudiating the charge, there was no denying the fact that Oscar and Miss Pendle had been together at the place named, nor that he was now in possession of the property .for- merly belonging to her; and the concise state- ment of the connection of the prisoner with Pendle, ( and the assertion that the latter was himself a forger, and perhaps worse, and the witnesses perjurers, who had never been on board the ship, were only looked upon as a desperate attempt to save the prisoner's Hfe. The jury retired, and returned into court after the expiration of ten minutes. The short absence was ominous. The verdict was " Guilty," and after the usual exordium from the judge he pronounced the sentence—Death I CHAPTER XXV. THE TEMPTER AND HIS VICTIM. "One of my enemies disposed of," exclaimed Pendle, triumphantly, as he left the court. He. took a cab to London Bridge station, and booking by the next train, arrived at Beaulieu Place the same evening. The gate was opened to him by Boylston. "Everything right?" asked J*endle, as he walked in. . • * "All right, sir," answered Beylston, as he shut the gate. Pendle* turned quickly round. They were concealed from the house by the high shrubs which grew on each side of the path. Pendle, looked intently into the face of his servant. "How is Maria?1* he asked. "Nothing the matter with her, sir." "Did you hear her threaten me, the other night?" Boylston hesitated. He did hear the threat, but was wondering which would be best for his future welfare, whether to say yes or no. "Answer the question ; don't stand there star- ing at me; Did you hear anything on that night?" "Yes, sir; but I should not think of mention-1 ing it to anyone."! "I know that," said Pendle, drily. "I know you don't wish to have your life shortened, for it would be shortened if you breathed a word of what you heard to anyone. That woman is a she-demon—crafty, artful, malicious, and vindic- tive." "Yes, sir." "I wish you to do one thing, Boylston." "What is that, sir?" "Watch her/' "I will, sir." "Watch her well," said Pendle ; "let me know almost what she thinks. You're sharper than she is. Draw out her mind, and see what's in it, and let me have a picture of what you've seen. You understand me?" « I do, sir." '« How is the young girl?" "She's very low, sir. She's been out occa- sionally in the grounds, but she seems' like one in a trance." Pendle stood a moment looking down on the ground, apparently buried in thought. Then he ordered Boylston to see the place secured for the night, and retired to his room. Pendle rose early the next morning and talked in the grounds. "I had a victory yesterday," he said, speaking to himself, "and to-day I hope I shall have another. Yesterday was my last crime. If this Cissy will be my wife, I will be honest hence- forth, and I may live long yet to repent and die happy." After breakfast he sought out old Maria. "Where is the girl, Cissy?" he asked. "I want to see her now." "She's in the divan. Remember my threat, Pendle. Any violence and I denounce you to the world. Remember the packet." "Curse you and the packet too. If the girl will love me, I will marry her." Pendle then went to the divan. This apartment was the result of one of his strange dreams of Eastern magnificence. The place had been built according to his own design. It was circular, and the light was admitted from above through rich coloured glass at the top of the arched roof or dome. The sides and roof were adorned with frescoes representing various battle scenes. Around the wall, about two feet from the ground, was a circle of soft, downy cushions of the richest crimson velvet. The floor was mosaic. One side of this circular apartment was open to what was called the Pompeian Court, which was a square apartment, the centre of the roof open to the sky. Around the four walls of this apartment were recesses, or small rooms, and in the centre was a fountain which ascended from a rose jet so fine that when playing it seemed like liquid lace work. On the rich crimson cushion in the circular chamber sat Cissy. With her elbow placed on a pillow or cushion by her side, she reclined, with her head resting upon her hand, and with eyes looking Bad and dreamily at the sparkling, bubbling fountain, she seemed dreaming of another world. "Well, my dear girl, and. how have you been since I left you?" asked Pendle, going towards the spot where she sat, and seating himself by her side. :.v-r '••' "You are very kind," said Cissy,: taking ner largo blue eyes from off the fountain, and look- ing full into the face of Pendle. "You look pale, my dear girl," returned Pendle. "What were you thinking of when I came in?" "I was listening to the music of the water falling from the fountain." "Then you like this place?" "It's beautiful—lovely." "Should you like to stay here always?" asked Pendle. "I shall not stay anywhere long," she answered, with a sad, melancholy smile. "Don't talk like that, Cissy. You must let me take care of you." "Have you heard from" She paused, and her pale face assumed a deeper degree of pallor. "From Oscar ?" asked Pendle. "No. I shall hear from him no more—perhaps not for years. You must forget him ; you must think of mn." "I am thankful to you, but I must go back with my brother when he comes." "No, no; stay here. Stay here for ever." Cissy turned her large blue eyes inquiringly upon Pendle. He felt uneasy beneath their gaze. "I have no right to stay here, Mr. Merivale." Pendle took hold of her little hand, and said, "Come, Cissy, you must not despair so. It!s wrong to give up your life because you have met with one misfortune. You must forget that, You must forget him, Cissy; you must love some one else." "I shall never love anyone again." "Never, Cissy?" said Pendle, in his most fascinating manner. "Only one." "Who ?" asked Pendle, eagerly. "God." Pendle let fall her hand as though he had received a shock. So often as he had used that name in blasphemy, he had never heard it pro- nounced in such a heartfelt, sincere manner, and by such pure lips, as when spoken by Cissy. In a moment or so he took her hand again, and said, "Do you like music, Cissy?" "Yes—very much." She still spoke in that listless, dreamy way. As old Maria said, she lived in a world of her own. Pendle rose, and walked into the Pompeian Court, touched a small knob which projected on the surface of one ot the pillars, and immediately the grand, deep tones of an organ filled the chamber—sometimes the low notes rumbled like thunder shaking the building, at others the high notes were soft and clear, like the piping of a bird. The organ was unseen, and the music floating into the apartment seemed to be mys- teriously soft and pathetic. Pendle returned to the side of Cissy and saw her eyes were filled with tears. "Ah! I see, Cissy," he exclaimed, « that is too solemn, too mournful. I will set the other at work. You will have martial music this time." Pendle again crossed to another pillar, and immediately a most exhilarating and brilliant march was heard. "Do you like that?" "No. I like the other best." "And yet it makes you weep. Well, I will leave you now, Cissy, but I shall see you again today. Goodbye." CHAPTER XXVI. A PEOVIDENTIAL AEEIVAL. It was a dirty night, to use a sailor's expression. The wind blew in fierce, fitful gusts over the river Mersey. The rain fell unceasingly. Near Saint George's basin stood one of those old-fashioned houses, which recall years gone by. It was a waterside tavern, called-the "Manx Arms." The exterior was droll and picturesque, with its wooden beams interlacing the plaster. Within, the landlady, Mrs. Burton, a stout, rosy, buxom Lancashire woman, sat before the fire. waiting for customers, while Mr. Burton, himself, sat enjoying his pipe. t , The room in which they sat was separated from the bar by a dwarf partition. . There was a sound of footsteps, at the door. *. ** The devil, Tim," said a voice. "This is a strong ?un. ' This is almost * as rough as the weather up norrards, and Heaven knows we've had enough of that." "Aye, aye, cap'en," said another voice, as two more feet shuffled in at the door ; "we'd a given a fortune for a neat little shanty like this." Mr. Burton jumped up from his seat, and poked his head through the door of the partition to look at his visitors, while his wife was already in the bar waiting to take their orders. "Why, the lord bless us Г said Burton; "sure, lass, it's Captain Bingham hisself. Sure, sir, you know me?" Captain Bingham, for it* was indeed the worthy seaman, looked at the landlord of the house for a moment, and then exclaimed, as he grasped him by the band— "Know you, man? Yes, of course. Jack Burton." "Aye, aye, sir. I shipped with you in the 'Badger, * bound to the West Indies, just eight years ago. Come in, sir; come in. Now, lass, cut about. Ye're hungry, gentlemen. Summat to eat and some grog. Stiff, mind ye, and .hot." Jack Burton and his wife soon spread before their guests a piece of cold roast pork, salad and cheese, and ale, of which they^ ate and drank in a manner that hardy, half-famished sailors alone can do. Then, sitting over a steaming glass of grog and a pipe, Captain Bingham and the landlord re- counted the history of years gone by, and again, in imagination, passed through many adventures and hardships they had experienced together. Burton at length said— "I was in a sad way about you a little while back, sir ; when I saw the * Mermaid' had gone down, and the papers said that all hands were- lost, I made sure it was you, sir; but I'm glad to find that there's two Captain Binghams, and you ain't the one as went down." "I am the same Captain Bingham, Jack, who sailed in the * Mermaid. '" » Then you ain't drowned l" said Jack, in astonishment. "I believe not," said the captain, laughing heartily at Jack's question. "But," said Jack, "all the papers said as how you went down with the vessel; that the ship was crushed in the ice, and nobody was saved out of her." "Well, that's true to some extent, Jac*. Alas! too, the rest of the crew are down at tht bottom of the Polar sea; and I, Tim, and Mr, *•* \% EÍA,, MY Ы.Ак ííllit, IM W iiAVi; Yol'- j;LFN Г SAH.» î'DNblJ.." •' ТНЬ b'»»ai; bt ЬШ.МД Hi'LNi.tî, Л1Ч1-) ШЬЮК 'W H A<'ií U Л Л1ЧЧ .Л bblb THE KING OF THE SCHOOL ; ; boy* «í <,n'bb» oí îwu î*/ii«/ «чцтМ»л*> eme * h л-9 promis tu bo ли»! iba; fbo b*-ab ( -s; 'la* first Имя- jym Мцс itUive. А ытти: V.VT i\v m>rj;ny, • !* "чииг кЬаП b г >МЬи •/ w:iv lv*t; >••»»«• «"-M Ь-Л bv parib* a <*f i';f. r* I íu*-i t.-'f thv i*;,- . bul. il wa- ••'>>". oyb* «aaab bo\>; but. the aeiibav > и, - ¡ « í t wo jíÉ^i^f^^'- ^ ab- !b. ч,.а!к . ï - y-' aFíF* } "* ""U j W. bL'áa ь1-'и1'!^л\Г, buvUír My* b.íbí.t IN Д;нЬ;Л!1 N í;bb/' ;,!нЬ\ i lab F^bbF- b< ao Г- » \}i|s»:.tlv Ж"!Ьн'.1 О | F¡ 11 Hu ' J J Ô U u\' \ a v I ¡I f. ;HÍ Î I : Г» 'U-'lí ( ft* 4 Wlappü,. bmir »чти- at whH» ib«*y who al! <•< »njvb« ; !" -v;;ij î.;'.v truit :"* í '';•< wííí í-j'. *'*í-u rnp'Hy rjbtMíiirtr tu ч-шг w.-:i-l»Ti*.fl ya¡fu , í'":;j;,k.' i Пм:Г-;иьЬ».цг w:ts aU'.m<4 th«-m t' nbr: b<-? |,:v« » (,lsr ^P"«'b;l ;mk ,ч> i br p„. !,rii 4,.ïï'«'bi.?, aîï'l al! *'uk'*'1;:4>и tb<- îîianiii, |'иг ум:?<<: W. bj., r *-ит , fV;i„»,v Гч. b|.«.ri t- ibn-; íJ'H»* ba«i-í«^n;sí:«.-A 1 ! \ >,^/, ^,r(¡. up ftîïfl ttt-alH ilii-iji |(, a ^rb»»:4 «ít*rv, wb(•*!:. íbr bi» mvTi !<>'/ Ixtj ^' < !(;:,- partí'.'!íbr ni'jt.î. a f,.\v liiitmn- afírr íM'.'-arniUií.-.l bwrror^ i-mili lHít b- v4iud>il 1 "What u¡ - .i..:,*; ы ;K<» шя-Ьл .*' 'u^p.b».«! tb.- 1 bs^* V. и? «<ш, я b'ib- p;ub;„ a-n-mbb-u ¡b; Л.ц a*' pr«H4«.,:,:a \v;tb i!, <т1ггк .>a:nf íji " ibîib-î '¡- -;н;*- b« .i-rnnja и, ;;i{1aki" * ,,f л sí cu.i »'r':>!n c"'1,rr br,'"b*%^bl ;u b;si ra-aï-'y !¡ah" 1 ч<- Ь,- Wby. íí bapi-^b«-««' tbnt a: tbr * îик* !:b b<,;. , . r »b'»-í«'b гаа'-а . - a-ary рич a?;b ;-«,(•; гу. fiîii,ba:1! - u¡ Ь :;hv¡¡ <*r,¡b'^' v,»-r.- -aat ía jvb 11 î i! »1« .*n''aa- \va> ', i.-a: í br waa - awav íf¡ Таг \. 4 '** { 1 ¡1! * u\u ni a « aa¡< i l(\ , ;4, _ baakm, it ^ M?pp.:s«4Í ih'.d Sa- bearb y-a; p¡<, -/},<.'■: о!' Ibv-buy W-bi^aa '*T.'U as ab-bí i:b'««abi *-o:a^ ia' !'«..,,• \\ î (, fbopo.a ó'íb.'a v, 1-,. » boo in !la' b. •, bp.aa'ao!, !■ Kyiî.'iaa- Kinü ob Tin; So¡|nr«b, -мч'ирЬ-! !iîJb"';V'j aboaai fsiao !viol bao oaï bo?:^a b- l г.ю о-", it Ьгч î м * - p'-si. o-/¡r at î bo brab nf í ¡bf Ь<ЬЬа î i * u 1 b *^р.Мо.<аь Nsba a ba. > юга -b Me laa^iap ' * y..,'' -aíbíboob ob-aio fy ; - a?, ! í iv^aa ba r «' b1 1 -b<-ry» aiai < am-ia«l v* ni-л <• a a a-f a.- ** K J-- - ao oîa'-o-o b tbaî if -b* o;b b- -p,-,.-,| ,¡v.( *. w« (<;».;{o| H\) ..vrib«' оа,о-! ao ;t|a s' ** 1 -aoa'aj bk« !<• b» i í sso b? о; ^ 'bai Fi'o-bi}' J'' h v>!#a b o.:!baba-b. H w a- y ' : 1 'b abb *o wo Fab ;:o;>o îo brb., 1>мЬ: yoa юнаапЬ-г. bof-o-a h-,("ov«î bi 1 b,o s:p»M rast aaa^l auao tbaû ^•-•oribo' цга- Fa; opbrt b la'v-aao-b b ;b ibb- « babby ' j.iiiri4 vota Mar-ba:i b" , ui.v <■( b v го,-а, оГ !>ba¡'í M a:-каш. 186 [MAItcn 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. Just then the door quietly opened, and Webber entered. The others could just sec by the dim light in the room that his face seemed brimful of suppressed mirth ; but he offered no explanation, and the feast commenced. Dr. Whackley was well aware that the boys were in the habit of meeting in each otiier's rooms after hours, but so long as no disturbance was made he closed his eyes to this breach of the rules. For some time they enjoyed themselves quietly enough, conversing in low tones, and pledging each other in tumblers of sherry and water. Suddenly they heard a very, very slight tap at the door. "Come in,'* said the iiost; thinking that per- haps some other boy had heard of the feast and wished to join them. There was no answer to this invitation, but a few seconds afterwards they again heard the sound—tap, tap—followed by a slight scratching sound. Lascelles, who happened to be sitting nearest the door, looked out immediately, fancying that some practical joke was being played. Not a living being to be seen I He heaTd a rattling, pattering noise, though, towards the end of the corridor. "Some of the fellows are getting up a spree," said the boy, as reseating himself at the table he reported what he had (or rather, had not) seen. "They had better mind what they are about,1' observed the Earl of Pcmbridgc. Frank Egcrton said nothing, but placed the water jug on the floor beside his chair, in evident readiness for a raid on ,the disturbers. For some time .all was silent, except that sundry sounds from the rooms beneath told them that others had been similarly dis- turbed. Webber's face, as seen by the moonlight, was a picture of delight. The boy seemed brimful of mirth, and could scarcely refrain from indulging in a hearty peal of laughter. About quarter of an hour after the first dis- turbance, another slight tap was heard. . Frank dashed open the door in an instant, and threw half the contents of the water jug down the passage. The same pattering sound as of some one scud- ding away at fuU' speed was heard, but nothing could be seen. "I tell you what* Freddy, you know something about this,*' said Marsham, "I! How could J know anything about the^ noise in the passage when I am sitting quietly in the room?" "It's Dne of your confounded ghost tricks." "J jsaid you should bo haunted," replied Freddy, mysteriously. "More likely it is the cat," observed Frank. All his companions laughed at this. "Don't you know old Whackley's weakness?" demanded Marsham; "he goes into fits at the sight of a cat. There isn't one in the house." "But tell us. w^at all this noise is about, Freddy. Hark! the fellows below are having a fine time of it," As the boys listened, they, could hear doors in the lower corridor opened, and boots, books, bolsters, and various other missiles hurled at the unseen foe. Then another sound was heard. A martial footstep was heard pacing along the passage beneath, doors were opened, and a voice was hçard demanding what was the matter. "The doctor, by everything that is scholastic Г exclaimed Freddy. "A nice mess you have got us into, youngster," observed Lascelles, with a sigh. "Pooh ! he won't come here j and if he does, we can all very truthfully affirm that we have made no noise." As if to give Freddy a direct contradiction, the next moment a knock was heard at the door, and, without waiting to be invited to enter, Doctor Whackley suddenly stood before them. "So, young gentlemen, you seem to be enjoying yourselves. You should all by this time know that such proceedings arc most decidedly against the rules/' "Certainly, sir, we were all well aware that, strictly speaking, we were breakin g the letter of the law ; but I appeal to you, sir, whether it has not been customary to allow a certain amount of licence to the upper forms of the school ?" . said the earl. ,Vw¿*' "It has generally been so, I am willing" to allow, nor should I have interfered on the present occasion had you not, by the perpetra- tion of some silly practical joke, disturbed all the school." During all this time Freddy Webber, struck with the brilliant idea that it would be as %vell to conceal as much of the feast as possible from the doctor, had carefully concealed the cherry-pie, or rather its remains, between the sheets of the Earl of Pembridge's bed. Having done so he turned round and ob- served— "I am sure, sir, we have been too busy eating anddrinking.to wish ¿o disturb any one. We have heard strange noises in the corridor" "And I looked out once to' see what it was," interrupted Lascelles. You will eacfy translate fifty lines from "Virgil before seven o'clock .to-morrow evening. Oh 1— what was that?" The boys eagerly inquired what was the matter, while Doctor Whackley turned about sharply, striking wildly with his stick at something intiie passage. "I received a blow which I am convinced could not have been dealt by any of you, it came from behind." Egcrton immediately rushed to the door, and walked from one end of the corridor to the other. "There certainly is no human being here, save ourselves," said he, on returning from his pere- grinations. "Yet I certainly heard the sound of some one breathing. There I I received a pat on the calf of the leg." "Light a candle." A candle was lighted immediately, but though the doctor looked about him in every direction nothing could be seen. "This is certainly very strange," observed the doctor. "I can't make it out. However, I should advise all you young gentlemen to retire to your respective rooms. Good-night." "Good-night, sir. But how about the fifty lines?" asked Marsham. "Humph! Well, as it seems you were not so much in fault as I supposed, you may do only twenty lines each. Now go to bed." "But, sir, if these noises are repeated another night may we not try to discover the cause?" "Well, yes ; I should have no objection. But if you discover the offender you must give him up to me." With these words the doctor departed. "Come, Freddy, enlighten us as to the nature of this little joke," said Lascelles. "What little joke? How is it possible I could strike the doctor and Egcrton while I was sitting here? It is very absurd, indeed, to ask me to enlighten you; I shall take the doctor's advice, and go to bed." "Don't go yet, Freddy," said the earl. "Yes, I must; the thought of having twenty lines to do has completely spoilt my appetite. Good-night." Webber took his departure, and in a few minutes afterwards the strange noises ceased. Having recommenced their interrupted feast, the others began to look for the cherry-pie. It was not to be seen. "Another of Freddy's games," observed Eger- ton. i(I suppose he has taken it with him. However, there is plenty of chicken left." It was at least half an hour after the doctor's departure ere the guests took their departure from the young earl's room, and dispersed to their own apartments. "Twenty lines of Virgil I heigho I" yawned the young peer, as he began to disrobe. '« And I wonder what became of the pie." He was not left to wonder long, for, having attempted to step into bed, he put his foot right into the very midst of the very piece of pastry that had so mysteriously disappeared, and suc- ceeded in overturning the dish. "Here's a pretty mess 1" he ejaculated, gazing at the sheets, stained a bright red, as was his own foot and leg. I shall have to speak seriously to blaster Freddy on the subject. However, as the night is warm, it will be no great hardship to sleep upon the sofa." , Which he did. CHAPTER X. BOYISH COURTSHIP, JŒSULTING IN DISGRACE* Baynes had recovered from the effects of the severe beating given him by the King of the School. He kept very much to himself, however, seldom mixing in the sports and pastimes of his school- fellows. Crawley was hia inseparable companion and toady. Baynes's chief amusement was fishing. It reminded him so much of real life, he said; the simple being always caught by the cunning. To this Crawley assented, little thinking that Baynes looked upon him as a gudgeon that,, having been long since caught, was now being used as a bait for others. "I don't think you'll catch young Egcrton though." "I can see plainly enough that he is destined to be a thorn in my side. Either he must fall or I shall. The game has commenced, the question is, WHO WILL WIN?" This conversation took place in the playing field. The speakers were seated beneath a tree not far from the river ; Crawley engaged in tying some flies for his friend; Baynes, with hands thrust deep in his trousers pockets, was medita- ting. Other groups of the pupils of Lexicon College- were scattered about the field. One of these groups was headed by Frank Egcrton, who was most anxious to try the-driv- ing powers of. a new cricket bat he had that morning purchased. At that moment a small boy made his appear- ance at the gate of the field, shouting— "Egcrton, Egcrton I" "Hero I" "A letter for you." "Bring it over, you lazy little beggar IV ex- claimed Marsham, , "Just walk round quietly, Crawley," said Baynes, " and see if you can find out anything about that letter. It must be from the town; for London mid-day mail was delivered two hours ago." Crawley did not like the job very much, but he had not the strength-of mind to disobey his- imperious friend. ~ After; prowling about for some minutes, he re- turned with his report. "It is from that old man he saved—or rather,, from the daughter," "Ha 1" "I couldn't.hear all, but there was a lot of bosh about eternal gratitude, and so forth, wind- ing up with an invitation to visit the humble- roof of the writer to-morrow afternoon." "Good 1 And what said Egerton?" "Why, he invited Fitzgerald and Pembridge to go with him, much to the disgust of Marsham, who fancies himself a lady-killer. It seems the girl has one or two sisters—milliners' work- girls." "Ahl" exclaimed Baynes. "We shall seo what the doctor will think of it if this self- styled King of the School degrades himself by visiting a lot of low people." "But I heard Pembridge say that he knew the father, a most respectable old buffer." "So he may be, but we must make it appear to the contrary." "Why ?" asked Crawley, who was not quite such an adept in plotting as his friend, not from want of disposition, but from lack of ability to form a crafty scheme and carry it out boldly. The next afternoon, when school hours were over, Frank Egerton, the young Earl of Pem- bridge, and Charlie Fitzgerald, started from Lexicon College, and walked briskly away to- wards Fishingham, one of the suburbs of the old \ city of Ballsbury. "Who knows the way to Mr. Conway's house 2" asked Fitzgerald. March i, 1870.] 187 BOYS OF ENGLAND. I "I know the street," responded the Earl oí • Pembridge. <; And I know the number," said Egerton. In a few minutes they had reached the house from which the invitation was dated. It was a pleasant-looking little place, though, as the Earl of Pembridge afterwards observed, the whole house could very well have been placed in the entrance hall of the home of his ancestors. Mr, Conway, as the old gentleman was called whom Frank Egerton had rescued from de- struction, was standing at the door, evidently waiting for them. He stepped forward, and grasped Frank's hand, exclaiming— "You are most heártily welcome, Mr. Egerton, and your friends too. But, come in; Kate is anxious to thank you!" So saying, he ushered them into the small parlour where Kate Conway was sitting, busy with her needle. As soon as she saw who it was she dropped her work, ran forward, and grasped him by the hand. "Oh, Mr. Egerton!" she said, "this is kind of you." "The kindness is on your side rather in invit- ing me, Miss Conway." "We were obliged to do so, or else we should never have had an opportunity of thanking you for your bravery in rescuing us. I am indeed grateful, Mr. Egerton, more so than I can find words to express.'* "Pray say no more about it, Miss Conway. I only did as any one else would have done." Frank then introduced his companions, Charlie Fitzgerald and the Earl of JPembridge. Kate Conway opened her blue eyes a little wider than usual when the young peer held out his hand, and was, for a moment, in doubt whether she ought not to. go down cn one knee, and kiss the fingers he extended, or do something equally ridiculous. In a moment, however, he gave lier hand a hearty shake, and shortly afterwards found herself on such friendly terms as to be boldly asking him Hvhcther he got flogged the same as other boys when his conduct was not quite in accordance with the laws of Lexicon College. The young earl laughingly explained that no distinction was made, and that his title was no protection to his person. After a little conversation the young lady began to busy herself about the tea table, observing that her sister, Lizzie, would soon be home from work. "Is Lizzie dark or fair?" asked the impudent young earl. "Dark," responded Kate. "Is she pretty?" "Yes." t( I'm'so glad." ".Why?" "Because I like dark beauties. How old is she?" "A year younger than myself. But, if you are not very good I shall not give you any tea; so, be kind enough not to frighten the poor girl, for she is very timid and nervous." A few seconds afterwards Mr. Conway entered with his youngest daughter, a piquante brunette of nearly fifteen, who certainly appeared quite as bashful and nervous as she had been repre- sented. Then came the tea, Kate Conway presided, and a merry meal it was. There was so much laughing and chatting, when the brunette had vanquished her shyness, that it is wonderful how they found time to eat and drink; yet the brown bread and butter, shrimps, watercreeses, seed cake and toast cer- tainly did disappear most rapidly. Mr. Conway at first watched rather anxiously to see how the young fellows treated his daugh- ters, but finding that they knew how to behave as gentlemen he gradually became lost in his own meditations, which seemed to be of a rather sorrowful nature. Tea being finished the two girls rapidly cleared away the fragments of the meal. Eitzgerald perceiving an old cottage piano m one corner of the room began to play a melan- choly air. "Come, let us have something a little more lively," said Pembridge. Charlie instantly struck up a merry polka. By some strange instinct Frank Egerton'sarra immediately found its way round Kate's waist, the young earl quickly secured Lizzie as a partner, and the two couples began dancing. Fitzgerald was a pretty fair musician, but the feet of his companion seemed destined to tire his fingers. After about a dozen polkas and waltzes had been performed, he gave up or rather rested ior a time. Frank and Kate were seated near the window. The King of the School still kept his arm round her waist, and, unable to resist the sudden temptation, he bent over and kissed her bright red lips.! The fair girl blushed, but did not look very i displeased, and Frank felt Compelled to repeat the salute, a peculiar noise close at hand inform- ing him that his friend Pembridge was similarly engaged. At that moment a look of intense surprise and alarm crossed Kate Conway's face. "Look!" said she, glancing timidly at the window. Frank did so, and beheld the face of the Beverend John Whackley. '' If the truth must be confessed, Frank Egerton was not a little astonished to бее that stern face at the window. However, he had sufficient presence of mind to bow, and then, in obedience to & signal from the head master, he went to the door. "You and your companions will return to college within the hour. On your arrival there, I shall expect to see you in my study." With these words the doctor stalked away. "What's in the wind now, I wonder?" asked Frank, as he returned and reported his interview to the others. T' "I don't know—can't imagine 2" responded Pembridge. /* /' "However, as he has given us an hour to return, I shall1 take advantage Of it. * We can I walk back in ten minutes, so we have forty left for enjoyment." "Will you be flogged?" asked Lizzie, staring with her great black eyes in the Earl of Pem- bridge'sface, and making a terrible hole in that young peer's heart. "No; I don't think so," was the response. *' Not that I care much for a whipping." "Come, don't talk in that doleful style," said Frank. "I am the chief offender; but I want another waltz before I go to be executed." Charlie Fitzgerald re-commenced playing, nor was he allowed to stop till the forty minutes had expired, and it was time to hurry back to Lexicon College. After bidding Kate and Lizzie a hurried fare- well thet hastened away, and shortly after- wards stood in the presence of the irate peda- gogue. "Well, young gentlemen, and what have you to say U excuse for such infamous conduct ?" he asked. "Sir!" exclaimed all three boys, immensely surprised. "I jay what excuse can you make for such infamous conduct?" "I am not aware that I have been guilty of anything to which the term infamous can be applied," responded Frank. "But I myself saw you in that house with these people." 'Certainly, sir; but there is nothing very infamous in that." "Poor boy! are you so misguided, blinded, tien? Could you not perceive the character of ihe neighbourhood, the house, and the people? Yet, stay; you, of course, are too young and inexperienced to know." "I certainly do not clearly understand you, sir," said Pembridge. "Then I will tell you in plain words. That house and the people in it should never be seen by pupils of mine. See, here is a letter I received only this afternoon, warning me of the place. and'that pupi}$ of' mïne werej in 'the habit оГ going there." The doctor handed a fetter to Egerton, whose face flushed as he read* it. "The writer of this is guilty of the most foul slander," said the King of the School, as he- handed the paper to his friend and relative, Charlie Fitzgerald. "So say I," observed the latter. "And I," said Pembridge, who had been look- ing over the other's shoulder. "Since you have formed that opinion, it will be necessary to convince you that I think to the- contrary. You will all remain within the school premises for three weeks, copying each day one- of the odes of Horace. You will also take place- below all the other boys in your form. Away with you; I consider you have disgraced the college." "But, sir" "No excuses will avail now. To your rooms,, and never go near that house again." Our three friends marched off to the school- room, looking rather crestfallen. Knowing very well that it would be useless to attempt to conceal the disgrace into which they had fallen, Frank Egerton, after a brief consul- tation with his companions in tribulation, deemed it best that they should relate their own story before any garbled statements were set afloat. Most of the boys were sincerely sorry to hear it, though about half-a-dozen of the Bayncs and Crawley stamp did not attempt to conceal their joy and exultation. As they were retiring to bed that night, the- Earl of Pembridge whispered to Prank— "Come into my, room presently, Egerton; Г want to have a long chat with you." As invited, Frank went. After some little preliminary talk, the young- earl plunged boldly into the subject. "What do you think of those girls, Frank?"* he asked. "They are both charming creatures, and far better educated than most people in their posi- tion." I ." They are lovely—divine! Do you know, ¡ Frank, I have fallen over head and ears in love with that delicious little Lizzie." "That's wrong, old fellow." "Wrong! Why?" "Because you cannot think of marrying her." "But I do think of doing so—in a year or! two, of course. I'll try and wait till I've been down to Oxford." "You will not be allowed jfco marry her till you are twenty-one, at any rate. Do you forget that you* are a ward of chancery?" Earl Pembridge sat in silence for some few minutes, then he said— "Frank, when you hear, in a few years' time, that I am married, come and sec me, and you will find that Lizzie will be my wife. I love her; and the Court of Chancery, the House of Peers, both spiritual and temporal, backed up by a few committees of the House of Commons, won't induce me to alter my resolution." "I wish you success and happiness." I "Of course, I know," continued the earl,, "there will be some tremendous difficulties with my mother, who, though she is the jolliest, nicest woman out, is awfully stuck tip about family dignity, maintaining the honour of an ancient house, and all that kind of stuff ; but* I'll find "some means of quieting her." ""We will hope so." » But tell me, Egerton, how do you stand with the fair-haired Kate?" The question made the King of the School start and change colour ; he was not prepared for 'such a direct thrust. (To be continued. Commenced in No. 1С 6.) "What shall I help you to î" inquired the daughter of a landlady of a modest youth, at the dinner-table "A wife," was the meek reply. The young lady blushed, perhaps indignantly, ana it b said that the kindly offices of a neighbouring clergyman were requisite to reconcile the parties. 188 KO YS OF ENGLAND. i sqmre attached TvHj ir, on-л)'1 V baf н<1 ?hb hnu:re, furm^rlv TRUE STORIES OF BOYISH BRAVERY.' ybtrmngKtKhbvtov^rtUMiwtb- mcbi«.•>•••« ¡,¡m.. ; О ni' ipO "ПОШ-оЬ Wit* Vi Ii-Л h ^î;*bT ihr db to tin* koi«/- J \*4iV¡\ ! r» at í» >n of his щиа* Kü. VÎL~fifni\iat iL OF KNí.LAXO. ; j( ww no? md.d »a> habo of ih-y had hud waob ii.jm»..t. wbaa îJlf. |к»^^рв?^5Р|НК twliin«.' ata! patMjV il-- I -íxi.^tí that b1* «od ,;<""t;< had ao upp<-b hb¡ uiií'orr anata prbaa» ara >o' * n>< was <>n п,г ослчч-.Г/ •»! 1и<* Ь>пошаЫа II m -Дм №ti Way an i5,-.■; iiaav:" <*гн"1 T; nie í Ь V dayio wi ii Juf'Wtt íi. tb" ;'.»'« "ut popular rWi>-j hoadH Ьу Wut 14 Ьт a;.'i d;,.»k *' I wai ш -abb ti,. Why ;d,dUbj majority nf ouï' n-íi'l'T-, H.ut >o*a,\y» vn-Víi'-ñbi *j< t h a X • * ;-"hvt"d W hu« tho it:a!<*otît<*.Tifs <*;пш> oí oabib aba> t» ^Г7.;« bint n> «я!»' of tb'H «ти-' bat I .-jalon with baar pafbbinv of da- ?жИ i fbr îvh. ivuvMüH, it" 5«, ti.ftí П'"!по an >-*¡h « vaír.í«b?,- l<-»«'iib a> if ad ba* .o riN WO KÎjalî aojàO.hidd i Lík papal* b tu ba ieal'df frMu ■ i Ïa bell Iiîitî bt-eti in tr.«br aomp.'HJyd' V.'í lia- iMr- t-uro'!'. And lía- oîh' г, bc<'íus.4í wo j <п p »« <^< - \ ?«' « я4, и i ! at i I. i n y ía-vb íboíii \v«ia*Mabi an a,> narrât г tliow- \vad ka« wn br.v, act • м[ h,. t îoaaabhary mi?, tare cf <■< uíi'U • prnmiMiHT î^yfî"0*!, 'л-bîH; L'avo ín М.Ч ííOfhirb..** «-rihiii.t-«, щи! fv.b;rfcf:oiK п>\>"Vui>,u*i; il..-.» br- and fl't'.'iíf'íiii lv"jbj«"'t« su**íi h'v/г, Ь.о}.'< '. (:<1,*ч«:Н"«>', < SjM .'IMiiy í;;.r. г;:},!IH-OTV рГ«'«<'?Ич ь,, b;tî'.'«U"i !■! '.i,-«-}- '„-'f- tívo J:V»t "-an, io.-ín wLum i.-ur' l\im !:><• Vf ad 1-у от? » у ' depart bi f.li*«ír bmne», t í:c king, riding from bis : ! ;\brr at Wo-t roi:».«f'•: o¡ а «л-г: o< cii- c» - at i aap' a'ary ■ -; •/ u!a '»^' !a'*< t *> !b d :'-b Ь/ v. I bfivo it lia- _ _ ^, 11Í in! t-iivc it t.o him î!' wiiiidî fa* di Mf^aíiiit bis »vi;l. Wla n Ту lor o, ала! fanab! if d-a; îiï bds babd, ;vra jrtíííírítjwíinpr Un*, л»'.oilgjbd—~ u 1о\Ч! ша ib at .4'vVi44l."* ^ wbo art but а, тп^Ьгхрь\ atal it c.rd.y ru Wt :.í.^;alia:r d.fi wu.U'b.vl И',-1. baVi dar И b.-d \v;is vi«. ¡a<« KilbiV oí A(.piítaií.a;. Iii", bola r db'd i í-r-чч*а£аг to {!:«• <'r<»v.*'ï íd'íar barons, сш'Ы, pn biJoM, aad kaípids 4f Kr.aíaats*ttai uext -, / y/5 t<"? bifíis^'íf, abo va aï! hi¿ dái-irm, i ti |а..у,ч1 к!.ab*» ... »bat it lubyb! ba'-'«.ii uîoI di Р(>ПТКА ГТ OF ЩЧ'НАКП TT. op гаал,А\'Г\ 4atomcïjt—#i I saw two ь1гапц..- slabo*> ír; rar ílnv, tboncrh wíd.;ly ,Ь^а-сап, î v,>' v,;y, ílt |vctífay n,HÍ wbb а гИiimv of bai *Ы%> по-,,п^, dioiier hi bio edy ol Sb'«rdaaa\ whfn Kikjsr ' came by accident xnmx яЫтЬ 2tM««i of tin* m«^f 7 I k. At! tb- Mai ai iîicbaoi wa> born,; t'bo paint 'f t*ai i ibalau'd d,o boabbaa í íiÍ:aa "ata" in na . a "» FroTFFart, W'd'ï tnar ít î !»a.O-d, jï!V balv. ib.- pî-ia -, '■ mí a bao hoa Ja» boa «-a i KiO of :t k îîar's koîî, it od -bal! \» ^ Tin- robíaof kaydií. bav^ :< ac w;a kiiaa <-f !v,yb'0;dt î W but ha did o-f. í о г»*.--- w'íad nf bo liba • A auion:-' tfaba- b;yp>h« a'ídíi^lo Kaaiaiub adaíal.^ l 'ba\ ba -da}. n{, napbaaabla r?f ido rabais, inxb-r Wat Jvbo. uda» i',:or >ir v/ara io bmif fdíabb a. í«Í i\yab' W laas bo Sliw í\st\ o i:»-,r dial bis ?v,a- yf liai, of iba "" bao, i':tn~ bitiy. iba >aíd iadia\a iatpoia a, yH> 'О - К ib-, dob,! ?fo U a- ,y l> ídr;ua-, danoio-ad a: b laa Tvb- W d"i- и Wa a ktTi dy," «íaid ba'- a i ay и r, wlaat ba f.^aaai ai a", - ««'-bf jitipp"i'h'd by iba kino. **doi,'.. ii b»ao* 'ab> * I a- oaa-ab í<>¡ 'о-;-!, ara] -bay ib*' v;!ab<-b* ,a'faïadaad, ía- '"i'4 bin aH'aaiaoOo ^rd< -a'ap aaa !. :п"ац ibaaaia: p'-a'^-aî 11 Whrji ba- or vb- al К i ou aas- bad- M« aawlííba г; aíaab - dispers гмnippa; :ц, I wb'a >w п'-а a¡ _ aawao! aiai da1 i-oya! i'aad'y iaio b-ava . f laava ,ч\\аааа 'oy ba i г f adia ц!аа !«уд';',у и. rhr lJnar*o and Ргнн-'-м of Wab--- at 1îor!-;hamp- 'стар ï «bab* .»nli-rd* ..{»• и! мо tlo-d- 'VpariMro b-' A pofaioo. I board "\b jy .v-db" sol lia- b ia -; "1 aa; ao aa-aa ad l-aaa.da, \\\ <•» .j¡ vro-a« i"0 u db *>tnv ' j» rbion îu iadias, saay—'ib W, hava a la^k aid'od îba; ТЛ.'Т, who wa* only <Ъъ\Г'-п< nf a tab, щ.' T!a« bi IP ?o;oa"a i 'i (-па, that d.vbn- ru-i'bar tiiHs^nd- ¡'ano- ai Wab-% bba.-ь ,,1 ороч-?,,,., V rk.aar" "• doai î bab-ka.d îba-îo b d -, bad ?a. p« (ïbaa'adap, \dM bn Uîv< of Eaa'and, bad; iba ' aod ая man? na»ro nia «?v in Jb. Cd\ ai ,aa iaiaot- a; da- Maía'«a' baa^ao-jb" ub' г ra) .-Maiiiaad, r'-a! r. dayao Aob so it aaniy ab«»(H, by t!a* «i")Miatbh of having had f by hdti-гь That j.-, v*y ai îbabard, and 1.!иг b-oaibb- ;aa- vyyhm «»f ]daaa-.ii.«ia, ' of i-'-dn-s« (:f eViiani 'Jfl<-vaia-a;-, ib игу IV, ( "*' Vbiiy." oabaM tia- biao. odi ¡a d-an A ad an (bo - :¡-V' . - ;> •n rt aaaiba <'\iii y?d ¡I this _ im »-t irspaab urbab'a ooi¡oH,n-, a >■ • d day in ibo loa- ,»f H- toy's doscmbmlK, i ordarad, an<î thoy will b" dadv.-rad и-.и Wíioí bo vaao ..:d; ¡o: yaiaa.p, bab.ard wa;^ t!a- asb,--r; buy iVbaab r»'î a: o b.ai a, y,boda lia-iiaJ'b} iooa!" i :«" > aa'-- I и }¡¡4 motile a ':' iaait of jaai* aad aopo a< o-i'aa a< or - < bi -Mtbo :'aa -oa ■<,•> o-a laiyaf i'y о aad odd, oayiba "И;,, laa, fair-aa¡. \\tat< oa in aad aa. od^ a '-a-n I aa-i >ufbaa-d ío y. a dab d->\ aa aiO г < 'oa% - a-i d .,f baaf. Ibab oow r< - I aa; aa a i ;a"io\aa-d ai W a. lubaM'T wifb- yraal oaaaaíba 'irid t»di limn to di'part b'-ait l^-rfdajo ib j- ao- ,p a ;' b iiabov1-' t' аг a* »aa», uad * vuy pa--daa axpra.oboií oJ iao\arod ¡ aoba ,¡a-! o/oaf.y «,f \. aaa* v< ba' it i "a** 'Ь,- day ao:,- ' aar ab * ra ооа a uoy,' * i da-îaraonal ;aa Mail jo-a ,*îad; ;dî rf y.»a bavo doa «.f" I'ia.odaad, xvib a lyo! lab, Iii« 0 ador vo'd\ tia; * :-a ao\-it«: b<.a!]f ^ /j |sa- \*-a; a da' b\ v,;bai ^ aad Oovao a - i' ! a- b., v,-,!.) « dVTX said tin- t:<>\\ handy, II-- and ibat was all Nhd cared f about. A« suiin ;ь Xa;« iîr ^ ^xdiamant and cC't'ifii.sion was í/Vit, if, \vn< fan nd tbaí iX<-d bad nob hhv île «.«lÍu-it*, lust h h» ¿niaa*. SaiiUkh I Vi Wurth Wda¡id. Ait ilhdíratd tbaar sevarai "пын-, .'ic.'Ofîipanyinf: tb<* ï.fi ir it, * ш i : i í « * î : ï of lib- fad î US aaai'Ui.V, s,!Г.(Ш- ptv.'f -Ci«, -UIS Kl^.witV, s'i and, andauXui: aharaa uHVot ii'ü, ;tr»> í'í/Uipletfly •ala! ra ГОа- », :„,<; i f;iVí/ a-^iad íiÍS 0-,pUhiniV Ц1 •a h as/a; s :ib aaibab î.bt. THliKK < ПШК\< N 'i'ü г; К л;;:; !'г.*;-,-i.i r«^- <••!.' ■ »*,,И, í,íí'îfy; ■ >nbr b> -лХ;»;, m;ici "i -i « îlb i:>.r ílue s< i,- : Ib' í»!ií.;uu L.iu'L **t mí i* i p -л.,. н]'л)'л'>л ;* îïsuubr.r «' , "mSîcs, Uu'U-,,iu«b of vvhb i :; j f! '.ví'b; b !î t:f u;f ,,: d î • v« лФ*Ь î'tiï 'с: wííh :i he was to see that in il • .,4; • .i:j< .bi',b ПГН . , Г .,'■! ;"' fT" tí - >í. ': ::, í..., ;Ьг ',v.' 'r'Lîn't;; h< ; 1, - \)<,>ï< ', Ьг >:\ i-- '.h ",: ." .•■<■<[ (í-r Ú'<-ÍU !h '.и i, b ';:",uí:!)' ;^;V • ' ü; , . I i • ;i:,!'- -il \\ л "i" :> >:{[,: ,,;..i'-,¡,w", :í ;« ih" v.'í'.í? > ,-'1 í":ti «' ■ и í ', »• ,-b ;í".'Í * i the síagiilar aeeile to the king. '!'!<-' •<•»*.,Míм <•■:'!',< .il- í:.-«-.1*i b, ;u î ii.' : '« -м- - ■<»; * , ;, \" , ,f',.i, 1: y, n .'i;n!(.v ,),: lin- ï"<:i";»ï-:i:»'d ;;î * • - i Ь -i;í,i;,-.í~ í'.;<:u,h';, ;u, !b'4u¡!rh, aud ¡v;;*r»v< M-' !,t¡c «"^'.í'1!:!*; *:?* T . t !и » i in J i! ¡, ', 1 Xi'» v. ¡„\Í-á!ji>v('!: b!'»ii:aü <-'Х'Г,п:: 'hííív.'í'íí ir- la ;í,wr<% •а;;:-'*: ir:1! '¡ba: к/- b'i'/v -л-'; -'я, i ü¡ v:tí, « >;¡ ínb - b í ; i : » r i, X s •■ ,!t.;t'.h' '"'J,":_í'l, ';b''í!,'< ';! {b'"''(': :!t|íy;"í-t -'«b' b.^b' ;«:''; -:.'<'ii hnj í/< «-к /:,).(««: - i *'«-íX.h')' X X h h'-î"" ь-Х.Ь-л Xi-bb4bV"njvl^r'Xb.ir-.-. «t,''r,:i! '-ip.'-iK.X ¡ví,..,;, ч },.tvv ь ь . .:i i4((,i(4f5l ff|r ь-'i.-v.bi iiw >,aX by 3<(w,,'. , f :„,, л:пгхп1п^. Тик ,v*iíl<<¡> wit?'** at Iw/ibs, the throe * .hXXiKX ) î:n- libîut-.'î.aib—hu w:^ л thinl, aü'i ítí^ :üíoí<' v.-îiï- 1 'n-'mcr-.-v.hn ,чч\у in hLs ab- hiU^vjf. 1''hr* *» Sníniia" írbjH\%* was hог тнпгу, vny;¡^^ ffuni 'I Un, 'Л' î f h verrai pa^,<('y'¡^tTS, 11(аЬ' ami Íí'íiíuI", of Ьitrli ruîik П!,*!»»!* ^A*i;ríi!n..']]b l'í-'iv was :í < vrt a m M;.<* Murehií:' ni, wIhí Uíbl WoiiibílfillíV j'íí'-iSí'íl h'b'li, As thpy at.îiroachcît ti,a Tesst'h tbey saw tbat lu"- p..H)|» berk was <.Ti-wa-X. Th*» c;HV';bíi was îh<-r«\ ниГГ'>ип'Ьн1 by fr<;M -anbs, me:! in |,íj'ívaf*' ci'.»'In;w. and hib;-'», IS i> ф1*>, was íbví'b uu tía- thrta- Ху* drt^s^X hi i1f»í>r Kkin«, and with «iich dark visrt'b'*^, (-iabl«-!i!y 0,:,,>,и^>>'<.}„. tu bis >Xa\ büt ií 'I'd'* b-'Ub'.naiit atib bl^ c.hurgvs Wt.'iV tin' îb'SÎ tu Ci'üH' n'l bí.vk, ■ "„ (ЛГШП».*Г b'd ÍÍH**!J flitVrt tí) tî:f ¡¡uarfcr-dí'Xv. Nb'd >ipaiiiH4's is safe aab, ;ч.н;п*Л wíih his o'i»mra¡a»>X hv haid v ■'. Tía/ cvbX:dЬ>ан:с in il îinn b:,s "b'-a,]! and Ali Хам îf.-= ha blaay. S,,!a!a,i'r^ ab vi* !—and. l'ci - Ii шисЪ tt >eoed wäs owi \ !isra;s at у * «и v,. -V пи baa^ X„\<« ;; X arc n! il a v af уv-Tjr a i 'î'al- • V'X S' ¡a W'jv si* «*xiî;tf;.4Îod and faint i Vila Nf;d Ь'^пчч^м;и*пь laa'aas !aal iv^uX -X, )>c!i"vin^ -btar ta - i" -aíb.-aaa ".J ^-ai'fîaib b» ».h-purt aaby ■ a\ * A d.a îhX i,,, -va» . a rama haa,, .-a-'.a'bla d aa' h a îa.à- алшна- .af , "l^^^yi v,ï\ \;Л.Л1\* 0f tha IjUada'.,-." ¡•'a;tuiaat .ap|»!aaad, X<> vta a Ь*г,ч''л *'"'<- f'raaa-; <»•,,[ ^ b h a ra/-,;, * "X Ьааад i ha m .«'.а;., Ь» h¡ í,,^u;il a urnvd a<: it í-a a m ra,» / a-a'<¡ avai!) ' маа-а î..» ;ia- at 'a-ï "ad >a ^vabh a;f a-')¡ t X avy ^ааа'И hia-.r i a -a, ;m'-aj - n¡ •^d'vni- !bi/..f,f /hV Ta jav.-any Ганг ay ^, |mi !'f«aa i>i ;i b.titl»' b! lad wïlh aie ia >h гГа avaíd ¡a-r- pit..'il0,.. íjuíf 'aXaaa T«. aaiava! y.üir iaaiaKia-a X'iir ama! a -!aii. T-bf-a-aa «aîl af d-bî; aa^jaira j jt,, "<;i-uî^: ian al' ;¡ i'a.-/'aa ad aa aaa n di a,ad y. a. t hv-c л/ч- HiiXIiîbïa j-acayi Taaa v.'aii' baad.b aîb af amli^'iiU sf a ad a -;,aaa;d ins! aXaiî fa Са'пщщсе, arrivai ! in- id> M.'id'.y. Iaa,\avaf, ba i*a''^"ad a ! 'm a; tlaan -( ,in(- ï>' .>"¡:i. ii;?a ad ш hut ar«. aa a?,d dar- \vaa,-íad ;-y - Xaaida^ab it was Maaral 'a.'«aî> haï ore I day awadaaaX, III id ÍÍU'll il WU> by .4 dirltVniab V< Hay af SliUiib ai aa-:t и adatuta allai' aa^Wi/î ad by tha buund - »f i a-avy « a'daaíü'ía Ida: bahaas irudiab _ Xadr fara^^ niai bi ,^arf.«X-*-, h.'id atlaakad fia* \daa;f<% i<. ba aaa by a » aaXia/ v. da-y, f' 'liawad, a law iaifa.ba.w f;dar i .y a i'тпмdnÍd\ií af his way. Iii a brief H'ïHtrfice or two Ж cd tuhî Xa* as;-,aabí]ad rumpuny Jus sb>ia , waia.ii was barard in bu^iaad, and snaauü Xitaaaa Suddoidj a piüv lttd\\ loauiiiir' on ?b»- arm of an arisiaaraf ic-h.>ab. ira^ ^''aSbanan, seraaaaX, aad(, rndidrtt: ai!.r.-a lia- d-, ak, aaa«jîd Hairy Tdan- hart h iXr a Xa'-«ad; and bad h, b îtaady iîi lia- saXan û*Y dlv.U' r di huíГ-ан-Ьмиг. Thev wrro ready, and tia- whole a^iîaaiad ra ad. y b*r biw ma ab All aava .M r. M'A Ai i s. Tîaaaibaîi, tmd i\m\' Nod, îhougii wiiii Lus praud l'ailier bosklo hitu, was anxjau-a Was f btrry ;ih«aii ta aai hsdïs ,' Saddanlv a 4u,,r aaaaa-ti, a:af îiio sfawai'd, in :i v-ry sí*4!>diaant ba¡a, aniicauiccd Иг. and Mr>. and AIXs ihn-ritd lda.r?da»ia Nad innaX pai- a> daa? ;a Vas; Хата waa na îaisîakîra^ h.; Ids Ifairy» bis ahum, the W iia had lovud so well, wa-aiiar ídl-.ч tdrl! Ha advana«X traaa'abta/, its if f¡> haw, bar Harriet, !Паго a^dlaíai! íh;m himself, г.ш idrwurd n.ad aau'jid id m in bar arms. "Nh''d, Nd d," sha arlad, '* ray <>wr, n.'blo Îrion.b aaî; y a a far^ivr' HaiTy now Jul" bain g suXi a sad ca-wardt X N' l aauld not saard.-. h-r :v minilta аГ í wo, and Thon bis- wwds wore símica Xîd, Saat kü'ov von wv.r a, .rild V -Ya.X ajJipuJlV vr.. 190 '* Then I forgive him. No wonder he wanted 1 n steal you." The ladies laughed, and Mr. and Mrs. Thornton un in g for ward, in deeply agitated tones, thanked ; * i m for all he had done. "Never, never can we repay you for saving >ur daughter from shame and misery and death," said Mr. Thornton, a civilian of high rank. Ned took Harriet's hand gently in his. "I loved Harry with all my heart and soul, vnd would have died for him, and now if parted from Harriet, I think I should die," he said, gravely. No answer was made, as the dinner-bell rang, and Ned and Harriet walked arm-in-arm to their seats. Fred Blount followed them with his soft, grey eyes. Harriet's sex had been no secret to him from the first, but he also saw through the utter devo- tion and love of the supposed boy for Ned Summers. All that evening the cabin passenger sat in silence, while Ned told his story. Next day, the Indians having moved off in the night, with their dead and wounded in the canoes, all the passengers landed, under an escort, and visited the principal scene of their adventures. Their fort, their tame goats, were a marvel, and the choicest were taken on board, to be transplanted to England. Fruits, fresh meat, and water having been procured in abundance, the vessel, after a week's sray, took its departure. The three friends saw its shores fade away with some regret. Sam was buried in the centre of the Indian village. Ned resumed his rank on board, but, on reach- ing England, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton announcing their intention of settling their whole large fortune on Harriet as soon as the young people were married, Ned retired from the service and took to agriculture. ;, As heir of his grandfather's Norfolk estates, he was not poor. The end of all was—that, one year from their arrival in England, the IUval Crusoes were ^.married; and of an evening, for many and many years, it was the delight of the children :to hear from papa, when in a particularly good humour, how he met their ma, all by herself on -a desert island, for all the world like Alexander Selkirk—monarch of all he surveyed., An oddlt assorted Cargo.—The first chapter in a Western novel contains the following :—" All •of a sudden the fair girl continued to sit on the sand, gazing upon the briny deep, on whose heaving bosom the tall ships went merrily by, freighted— ah I who can tell with how much of joy and sorrow, and pinè lumber and emigrants, and hopes, and salt fish Г Freddy is a little one of seven years' growth, the son of a minister, who, with his wifef had just .arrived at a field of labour. Hearing his mother say to his father that she had been deceived by his saying that the parsonage was a three story build- ing, when in fact it was only two, he said, "Ma!" ■"Well, Freddy I" "The kitchen is one;" "Yes." "This floor is two, and the story that pa told is .three." A minister in Kenebec County recently preached a sermon on dyspeptics, and, - after ; accusing such persons with breaking the laws of *God and Nature, a cadaverous-looking individual •.arose in great anger, and said that he had no doubt but that he was the person referred to, "as he happened to be the only person present who was troubled with dyspepsia Г Continuing, he said— '"1 think a minister has no business to make such »personal allusions, and the next time you attempt ■to preach, Mr. Minister, I would be glad, if you would select some other individual for the founda- tion of your remarks.". At our barber's yesterday morning there was an •old chap with a head as smooth as a billiard ball. WI say now, George," snarled he, "part my hair •evenly." "There isn't much left to part," said the 'verbose George. "You have always said that, and yet you havo finished by parting it, somehow, and I gues* you can now. "No use to try; sir, but I tell you what I'll do ¡ I'll make a line with a piece of red chalk." COLONEL CKICKLEY'S HÔÉSE. I have never been able to ascertain the origin of the quarrel between the Crickleys and the Drakes. They had lived within a mile of each other for five years, and from the first of their acquaintance there had been a mutual feeling of dislike between the two families. Then some misunderstanding about the boundary of their respective farms revealed the latent flame, and Colonel Crickley having followed a fat buck all one afternoon, and wounded him, came up to him and found old Drake and his sons cutting him up. This incident added fuel to the flame, and from that there was nothing the two families did not do to annoy each other. One evening Mr. Drake, the elder, was returning home with his "pocket full of rocks " from Chicago, whither he had been to dispose of a load of grain. Sam Barstow was with him on the waggon, and as they approached the grove which intervened between them and Mr. Drake's house, he observed to his companion— "What a beautiful mark Crickley's old roan is over yonder." "Hang it I" muttered Drake, "so it is." The horse was standing under some trees about twelve rods from the road. Involuntarily Drake stopped his team ; he glanced furtively around, then, with a¡quecr smile, the old hunter took «j> hiz r~2s fren the bottom of his waggon, and raising it.to his shoulder, drew a.sight on the colonel's horse. "Beautiful !" he muttered, lowering his rifle With the air of a man resisting a powerful temptation. "I could drop old roan so easy." "Shoot I " suggested Sam Barstow, who loved fun in any shape. "No, no, »twouldn't do," said the old hunter, glancing around him again. "I won't tell," said Sam. "Wal, I won't shoot this, any way, tell or no tell. The horse is too nigh. If he was fifty rods off instead of twelve, so there'd by a bare possibility of mistaking him for a deer I'd let fly. As it is, I'd give the colonel five dollars for a shot." At that moment the colonel himself stepped from behind a big* oak, not half a dozen paces distaút, and before Draka "Well, why don't you shoot?" The old.hunter stammered in some confusion.! "That you, colonel? I—I was tempted to, and аз I said, I'll give a 1V ' for one pull." "Say án * X' and it's a bargain." Drake felt for his rifle, and looked at old roan. "How much is the boss worth ?" he muttered in Sam's ear. "About fifty." "Gad, colonel, I'll do it. Here's your 1X.'" The colonel pocketed the money, muttering— , "Hanged if I thought you'd take me up!" With high glee the old hunter put a fresh cap on his rifle, and standing up in the waggon, took a close sight at old roan. Sam Barstow chuckled. The colonel put his hand before his face and chuckled too. Crack went the rifle. The hunter tore out a horrid oath, which I will not repeat. Sam was astonished. The colonel laughed. Old roan never stirred. Drake stared at his rifle with a look black as Othello's. What's the matter with you, hey? Fus' time you ever sarved me quite such a trick, I swar!" And Drake loaded the piece with great wrath and indignation. "People said you'd lost your knack of shoot- ing," observed the colonel, in a cutting tone of satire. "Who said so? It's a lie!" thundered Drake. "I can shoot" "A horse at ten rods! Ha! ha I" Drake was livid. "Look yere, colonel, I can't stand that," he began. "Never mind, the horse can, sneered the colonel. "I'll risk you." Grinding his teeth, Drake produced another ten dollar bUl. "Here !" he growled, " I'm bound to have another shot, any way." "Crack away," cried the colonel, pocketing the note. Drake did crack away—with deadly aim too—but the horse did not mind the bullet in the least. To the rage and unutterable astonishment of the hunter, old roan looked him in the face as if he rather liked the fun. "Drake," cried Sam, "you are drunk I a horse at a dozen rods—oh, my eyes!" "Just shut your mouth, or I'll shoot you !" thun- dered the excited Drake. "The bullets were hollow, I'll swear. The man lies who says I can't shoot! Last week I cut off a goose's head at fifty rod's and kin do it again. By the Lord Harry, colonel, you can laugh, but I'll bet now thirty dollars that I can bring down old roan at one shot." The wager was readily accepted. The stakes were placed in Sam's hands. Elated with the idea of winning back his two tens, and making an X into * the bargain, Mr. Drake carefully selected a perfect' bally and buckskin patch, and loaded his rifle. t A minute later Drake was driving through the ï grove, the most enraged, the most desperate of v men. ^ p His rifle, innocent victim t>f his ire, lay with broken stock on the bottom of the waggon. Sam Barstow was too scared to laugh.' Meanwhile the colonel was rolling convulsed with mirth, and old roan was. standing undisturbed under the tree. When Drake reached home his two sons, discover- ing his ill-humour and the mutilated condition of his rifle-stock, hastened to arouse his spirits with a piece of news which they were sure would make him dance with joy. "Clear out!" growled the angry old man. "I don't want to hear any news ; get away or I'll knock one of you down." "But, father, it's such a trick 1" "Hang you and your tricks." "Played off on the old colonel." "On the colonel ?" cried the old man, beginning to be interested. "Gad, if you've played the colonel a trick let's hear it." "Well, father, Jed and I, this afternoon went out for deer" "Hang the deer—come to the trick." "Couldn't find any deer, and thought we must shoot something; so Jed banged away at the colonel's old roan—shot him dead." "Shot old roan ?" thundered the old man. "Bv the Lord Harry, Jed, did you shoot the colonel s boss?" "I didn't do anything else." "The devil !" groaned the old hunter. "And then," pursued Jed, confident the joke part of the story must please his father, "Jim and I propped the horse up and tied his head back with a cord, and left him standing under the trees exactly as if he was alive. Ha, ha I. fancy^ the colonel going to catch him! ho, ho, ho !, wasn't it a joke?" Old Drake's head fell upon his breast. He felt his empty pocket-book, and looked at his rifle. By the Lord Harry, bo}'s, I've been shooting at that dead hoss half an hour at ten dollars a shot." *»» Original contributions only are required, and must be accompanied by name and address. Any puzzle or charade received after this date, and found to have been copied from otlier publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from Oie same person will be accepted, No Puzzle will Ы accepted unless the Solutions are properly worked oui. Numbered Charades in particular must have FULL answers sent with tiiem. I consist of 14 letters. My 1,2,7, 7, 13, 9 Is what drunkards use very much : my 11, o, 4,7, 9, 12 is a shell fish which I libo; my 14, II, 2, 12 is seen in every house; my 3, 9,4 is in the affirmative; my 10,2, 12.4,7 is not the best; my 7,11,3,4 is what babies have to keep them quiet; my 12.2,10 is what oarsmen do; my 14,2,13,13 is a toy for girls; my 4,10, 2,12, 14 is a eharp weapon; my C, 2,11,14 is what keeps us together; my 7,2,3,3 is what my 1, 9,3, 3 does when a person of note is dead ; my 4, 11, G, 7 is the opposite to hard; my 7,10, 2 is a number; my 1, 9,14 is a place of repose; my C, 13, 9, 9, 7 is a lot of ships; my 10, 2,12,14 is part of a Eentenco; my 4, 2,. 10, 9,12 is another word for bitter, and my whole is what all boys are. W. Veats. il I consist of 2G letters. My 20,9,5 is a garden tool; my 22,12, G, S is a point of the compass; my 2G, 14, 17, 24 is in every house; my 25,9,24,2G is a title; ray 4,2,19,10,21,24 is a small ship; my 13, 6, 15 is a Moorish governor*; my 11,21,13,Sisa goddess of youth; my 22,17, 24,3,12,7,8, 12, 24 is a town in England; my 18,Ü3, 9,19, 5 is a.great comedian; my 13,21,1,6,15 is a girrs name; my 1С, 22,9,21, 26 is an instrument of war; and my whole Is what отегу boy should wish. One op the «• Boys." hi. A metal; the Latin word foe yesterday; an animal; a seaj a British possession; a country in Lurope; a birdof prey; an art ol speaking; a flower; a part of a circle; a flower which means in the languages "flowers " beware;" the first and last letter of the Christian name reversed of a most able commander in the time of Charles I. The initials read downwards will give the name of a tale in the BOYS OP ENGLAND, and the finals upwards will give a name in the tale of " Tom O'Reilly." HENRY STEWART. March 1, 1870.] 191 BOtS OF ENGLAND. Required the names of three boys, consisting each of 6 letters, so that whsn yoii read the first and last letters of <îach name from left to right you form a word representing a means of conveyance. А, Pubry. V. A little way out of London city Lies the ccene of this my ditty; All hills and dale, With one large vale, Some ponds where fish are found; And donkeys few, "With sandpits, too, Where furze and fern abound. A pleasant Mght on a morning bright; Колу name the place thus brought to lijihL A. Purry. VI. I am composed of 14 letters. My Ю, 2, 13, 6 is a rapacious animal; my 9» 12, 0 is before; my 1,2, 7,8, !>, 12 is to perplex; my 1,11, 3 is a lad; my 4, 5,12, 9 is painful ; my G, 5,12,14 is a ghallow part of a river; my whole you will find is a well known journal. j. p. Woodcock. VIL I am composed of 12 letters. Ну 1,2,11,12 is a male parent of a beast ; my 3,2,1,12,7 means ascended ; my 8,5,9,11 is a black man ; my 4,10,12 is the name for a boy; my whole you wilt find i3 a well known hero. J. P. WOODCOCK. VIII. I am-composed of 13 letters. The 4, 8, 2,1 was \U£, 12,5, 3. 7,13 because 6,10, 5, 9, 9, 7, 13 by the 1, 5, 3, 4. The interpretation of this is required, and my wholo will give the tibie of a boy's Journal. A. PURRY. IX. I am composed of 14 letters. My 1,Г2,2, 7, 8,9,12 is a near relation; my 3,9,10 is a tree î my 12,9, U is a colour ; my, 13,11.12, 14 is a noble- man ; my 4, 5, 6, 7 is tender ; my Ö, 2, ö, 7 Is a part of tho body î my 8,11,12, 4, 9, is an animal ; my whole ia a new weekly periodical. Herbert Henderson. X. A town in Renfrewshire. An ancient seaport of Syria. A town of British India in the Punjaub.. An ancient town of Shropshire. A district of Bengal, A city in Cambridgeshire. 'A village in Surrey. Л town in Berkshire. An island near the coast of Tus- cany. 100 and nany A city in Lorraine. 2 and grts A large river of Asiatic Turkey. The initials read downwards will give tho name of a tale In the BOYS OP ENGLAND. Herbert Henderson, ■ :j TRANSPOSITIONS. .,. ,T . XI. v - The following name three trades. Hermon figs. TimeChs. Son tear it.. • 'XII. t - The following name three games. « C. big bear. Paul's section. O. Ü. go the rude tabby is on our roof. XIII. The following name three Journals (for boys). Weys of bold Thor. The tarnation green guy of Mib, Bonny tales P. Hodge. A. PURRY. SQUARE WORDS. XIV. A fruit—A. musical instrument—A pustle—To feed to- gether. 1 v XV. A single lime—Want—To surrender—The first garden. William Grove. .' XVI. • У A.woman's name ; a girl's name ; one who votes ; belong- ing; to; ^you,;,. a month in tho year; a musical entertain- 'm» Í Î !a,il<>r; Ь reptile ; tho latter part o£ a day; a bird. The initials and finals read downwards will name two characters in' the tale of "Red Snow" in the Boys of ENGLAND. W. F. Trinder. 51 and Аргсу 100 and Era 1,050 and Alhabu 550 and Wuol COO and caa CO and ye 1,601 nnd horn 601 and sworn ¿0 and bca • NOTICE TO OUR CONTRIBUTORS. To save contribittors Ш trouble of writing respecting Vie non- insertion of their puzzles, we shall, in future, adopt the plan of naming the month during which tíiose under consideration were received, i hefoUovting list of 4« Accepted " and '» De- clined" are those received during Vie monxJiof NOVEMBER, 1809. ACCErTED.—Thomas В. Hartón, Francis Dent, Cyril :Bellingham,E. J. Hodge (1), R. F. Bartlett (we have •frequently explained that the delay has been caused by the (large stock in hand), Alfred Pack, T. W. W., B. S.. Joseph H. Hammond, W. F.Trender and Alice Sumner, G. W. G. nombrow, MacJohn Venning, Lionel Littlepcn, White, T. Hutchinson, W. Aukens, С. Thompson, G McSorley, H. W. Hope, Margarets. Tackaberry, T. Pop- «bam, H. Lovibond, George Guthrie, T. L. В., Harold Furniss (wo again repeat that every puzzle received by us 'is acknowledged either as accepted or declined. We are happy to say that we have nearly cleared off the immense -etoclc we had on;hand, and hope for the future that less delay ^vvill occur.) DîîCMNED.-Tom Davis McCord (not up to the mark) Jl.- Havlland (no full answers), Schoolboy (no full answers) "Harry {Stewart. *** All Communications to be addressed to the Editor % Mn. Edwijt J. Beett, 173, Fleet Street, Л.С. »* We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns ofthis Journal, *** Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents in a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. ** Correspondents who wish to receive replies by post must in all cases send stamped directed envelopes. j. W There is a great difference in showing grief for de- parted friends in all countries. Tne ancients had a queer idea about mourning for the dead. The Egyptian women ran through the streets crying, with their bosoms exposed and their hair disordered. The Lyclans regarded mourning as unmanly, and compelled men who went into mourning to put on female garments. In Greece, when a popular general died, the whole army cut off their hair and the manes of their horses. At the present day, the Arabian women stain their hands and feet with indigo, which they suffer to remain eight days. They also carefully abstain from milk during this time, on tne ground that its white colour does not accord with their minds* In China, the mourning colour Is white. Mounting for a parent or hus- band is required there by law, under a penalty of sixty blows and a year's banishment. When the Emperor dies, all his subjects let their hair grow for one hundred days. In the Fejee Islands, on the tenth day of the mourning, the women scourge all the men except the highest chiefs. Another fashionable custom there requires the fricuds and relatives of the deceased to assemble on the fourth clay after the funeral, and picture to themselves tho amount of corruption the corpse has sustained by that time. In the Sandwich Islands, persons desirous of going Into mourning paint the lower part of their faces black, and knock out their front teeth. Vekge on the Gulp.—Eugcno Sue was an eminent French novelist, lie was Intended for tho medical profession, and was-attached to the army us a surgeon. In 1825 ho entered the navy in the same capacity, and was present at tho Battle of Navarino. At the death of ills father, who had been one of the physicians In the household of Napoleon I. he inherited afortuno of £3,000 per annum, and then ho abandoned his profession tor thatof literature. He became a great favourite as the author of the "Mysteries of Paris "and the "Wandering Jew;" "Martin the Found- ling*' and the "Seven Cnrdlnal Sins." He was born In Paris, 1604, and died there In Ш7. A Cuipfle.- (l.) It is impossible to вау what height you will grow to. llow can any one tell you? We are tired of answering these frivolous questions. (2.) It.does not matter which, and tho price of the binding depends upon the style in which you wish It to be done. (3.) You write a good running hand, and would suit a merchant's count- ing-house. Joun Stokes.—All the situations in the General Post Office are in the gift of the Fostmastcr-iïcncral. Applicants for the situation of letter-carrier must forward the recommen- dation ot some well-known respectable person and some testimonials of good character; and, if nominated, they will have to pass an examination in writing from dicta- tion, reading manuscript, and tho first four rules of arithmetic. London.—(1.) Leave it alone, and be satisfied. (2,) There are many cures, but you must first ascertain from what cause tho bleeding arises. Consult the proper person, a surgeon. (3.) Yes: there is but little doubt that It will tend to clear your head, a consummation devoutly to be wished for. Hamlet.—As much talent and knowledge as you can possibly gain or possess. Learn some trade. Better be a good cobbler than a bad actor. P. Neville.—The reason was explained, and to the great majority of our readers has proved perfectly satisfactory. Previously to any alteration taking place, we had numerous letters asking us to make the price what tt is now. With this explanation we trust you and your friends will bo satisfied. Giles Evergkeek.-(1.) Your handwriting Is very fair, but at your age, ought to be better. Still it would be satis- factory to any person who likes a plain, clear handwriting. (2.) We think we should prefer the latter. (3.) We have heard the Tonic Sol Fa preferred. A IÏeal Paddy.—a.) We are sorry we cannot inform you of any society In which you might enrol your name as a mcmucr. (2 ) Indue course of time no doubt what you ask for will appear. Bricksiaker.-(i.) The list is too lon?4o appear in the cor- respondence. (2.) Yres; in several parts of Northern Europe. Leeds LoiNER.-Certalnly you will; they will all be avail, able. Forward them when the time is advertised. P. Quince.-Try either of the systems ofthe gentlemen you mention in question 3. (4.) Ye-*; it is indispensable for barristers to acquire a good knowledge of it. (5.) Mid- dling. S. J. J.—We could not possibly answer your questions before. There Is a great dimculty in getting a situation In a bank. We think it preferable to that of clerk in a lawyer'* office. M. II. Z.-The price of the stacc with everything complete, will be 2s. 3i., and you had better order it through your bookseller. (2.) Handwriting very good. Nagilan The numbers will cost you 8s. 10d., including tiie postage; upon the receipt of the etamps, they will be forwarded. ,„ . л. M. G. (Ball*mena).-If you will send the requisite number of stamps, we can at all times forward the monthly parts direct from the office. Chandos Clissold.—(1.) It has not only begun hut is nearly finished. (2.) Not long. (C.) A volume is published every six mouths. (4.) Not at present. Hebald.-(1.) The Herald's Co lege, (2.) No; he can give his vote it he has not previously voted; but it is seldom he votes at all. (3.) Yes; the very thing. W. D. iUtssBURr—lour writing is certainly not good enough for a situatiou in a countlug-houso; we should therefore advise you to embrace tho trade you speak of. Do not spell oblige "oblidgo. J. Lock.-Л*« W "Лл{\,< Г V\ b' í ■ ba; bub', -ak.-' hmt.t.-*, îhr<-»« h.ufooiH''' о:*сЬ. Tb<- < îa :; £.-! -,^L lu b¡ I br î Oaby Xo C< aaaa', b>ï$ With Uiiy «•••'"•'• еь1аЬа-Ьои**м. Wbabll von Uuy, bava ibaba \\ с, abblRi ai ,-arh *'Ь",Ч;» !',;!<• * 1 * -1Í l,»»]!■' •í !b«'olb{; í í "b* ' Г. i'oiiM -in J.;-?*- V, И b bba, 'Пи y f..a ab !Jii;ju4^Vt'«— ¡:^f 1, irto.'lî — 'O - «aaavel^ ,W*/. .Everybody oui ne üoakaiy round auf ■ -•л», am; .-fork was -м.н gon.». \\V can'! osy > О i:o * а.аУ: («nî us Ít—Olby íh«: ÍUO oí thé a aar, asa; 1 \ U, aítar ab, va aa a voitx !Ь ¡a 4 "bi-rb!, afa> baaaoi *o i» " aí.oao b- v п.- beba* 'void," u ;\b. v^a аа'оа" aaid <>u\tiling atfoüt tbíif." 1'fiul U-" "Iba-bla., t;-.,--«• г>м>г ha!.,>.<„' o* Ha» T b<* ybfl'líf; *4 f IlíMí^b Ш'ИЛ V » ÍH* //*'/•'/, ;í;. i'V" ttfor-f -*лу, ,<'<,)*>u by iba* ич-тинЬль ra-aa-,1, |U/bi¿» ÍÍU/*Í. I'^ü'l I ',\ cuüM i',.!r(, î,:;r, ;«Jh'", <íí¿ Г* "И-, ум)? Wb-lb í ivî<4i •.•;!,!,bii«< irir.»- тг;у- -"b'." n-y.'lr.i ti;.» fjj,y.;;¡í-!,•«! .,i:ti,íW, '* I <'Ьд.-1-<1 h'iu 1 !<''«••' ;brofí^h lb-.' i"vst, кат íb,-Ui4 m\.^;f //'•'-■■y lu 'k'fti .r,o--' i ^■tvtï -/:f t } "l'^s/f I» ]W^;h: V»'.-;!, ;,í 1 (|Íd ü]> b;,! у!-..'*., ^ b''• !¡..•:.••( ',у"П "л if К 1 íífH ! . AV. Tbt;!í Ь./ -i- » i ; V a-v,. », к ':¡t * bi ,<-í! da' Vív rt.Uf," гп.-iï 'ii^bíjj, N"-w. r;?y ■■j '.i!.-íí,<'H, v,]..u w)T« V!",i í;;ib«* д ;* (j; i í »H'i;,b"bj íü 'ь<- u¡ u k< *. «» 111 * - -ri,;-.,,S,y;,| b:t:f<,-«ii,,'i И Ь íbbfl.b 4"VSíy íb«* < , i ; í í i i bt •:, ?t'bü',; ;i ¡>",t\V <У' ybl y î < ,b1 '<< rb,.' í.'irt'^í ¡'t'.vru, b» t/'''Hí'-ií Sí.- ¡h „«'íi b 'í':',ií- ilJ!-íy, b»by!" rrí»/,i í!;^ Ли-г\')\ ^Iwn b*f b»ur;d tbul íb'bí,b * :«t'iiíJ},' 'V.t , t'n.'íb,y (,у<, <;,¿r?w>I. ah'l ÍM(f!:'í h." íb-íí ^ * ^v/úil -л 4'.i!-;,4rb *' !s:i 'm'i!v -í,d-íyr, \-n, v,<«r>b«|,t" ,«.üs«I ПоЬ'л bni^yby: íu»: -'Ьип:Г 1»м«!Ну uí^lh: cart, 'l'ht-u *ун!и4| ::. •: bíí<; ..: -'и b»- ¡>¡ ■ > '" ,^o, t- I v..t- .д , ;í¡ ч ¡U/i •,. f/b-'д bli \i'>ri)—4t üv/i<: !í!it¡:h; ;ü5f i? b- \ ¡,.,,;, , r¡' ,ч ".,;•<:,. ■ b:v u'b :í ibirb • "í?. * w» Ь ,-")У bbn '-yr л\1 ),••-, \ b ib- m-'u u :,l ■ - -.'и! :; ■ 1 > ЬЬн- ;.,v, , ,vb,/ 'i >:\¡ :•> 'b :b. ;i:«'.í i"' • >y \v,i- f ;f i í * •? Ь ;::'f a f. b The animals wire so clever t*bat each caught •rowi that were aimed at him înîiis mouth. '! '.ne {■> íü' :< ■•, V, b- i,', 'b Ь- г.. ■ jpose a trace. "Cal ^off your ic rt of fellow I ad] * and hi tat the b! . ■ aire, an ti l ч>м;,М bb<' \ и,: ("'•I.'' - Г.У \\V У',: л У: ■ thft future be mme mt)émmím Friar like "^todefen (he auuded t< liai got ill b- Uüí.b'' ь. л'!;л;-п.г tb- y fu:;ci»-.-••< Ib^it | i:.\atliy like this—• "r,.y~,-r-b^ m-:^,¡ -l',",!í4o*.|,-too J*1^ u.4v u» uiak«- ii'iiink Everybutly wjv» n-,u\y u> j C¡» .-t.-u-b-'i h;»if a bbf,'ir»-ij :^bi .»ггЬ«т.> ail armed ■ \ :a" «-a!br,v". "-ba-b ia- 1 "Ob !> r! f !aaa ;» oa '}"<-}ati ИамЬ \a-ui -».]f У:< , ■/•••I :)■• ai :'. ' b'ib b<:' *.".*« .'ats a; o a.i,«'b a!'-a-y . ai,a , baa a, м i >¡.> a-,; la *а< b aiaî U; î »,■•;(< r< ¡1 in fan: '.• -b 'ab.* [ r' *.b'"nt aaa i«-yt>î. anb mv<-/ïf bi'»<-b— n-o-oh!" ^,-bv'u*. br-y^r«•••». spí':r'-"í то hnow who ha*,vn-aj ^!>nnft rtirvrm ynnrTf'if.'i rriwi H«>hin: "we /w/f ■'у."м/. a .'/f «. - ar* aa baa ,aaí 1 !a^;y< yf a'b aa^b.. '-v a-- - -f a b So í:¡ rînïb wiîh f ,a¡ ,-:,«! ,ч h"p. Bat Böbln iromeâiately e*lle*t out, "Stop,Г lu.iSi iагл'у у<.а*х.' j,'. Ьак to Ьм\ч< tía.-' 'i'a-l Viííí'v- |'алаа"а r> Г< гЛ.^и-п, iïLu ¡ 3t/ ir -h t '', íaub' »foba, ba'/íaa <*a'tl> jokt.v ai ||,ама\|н,а!.-4 .* "We .are not goieg^-to stand any more, nonsense." rri.-b iî'/bhi, ••' Y"¡; »аам yay me in full for the 'horned beasts/ according to our bargain. Out with bbb'a-b îh'y b'.,4 ПЫА n ibot;ahî a -■ a < '{':, h m,.- aal ^ ab ib' \ а -,-а, ,aii»a' r!r-,; vy(lí , ííívi"! • . a;« vr '<» «» . ■. ' n > . < T :-t/,".,-Hí < a. ,' ^ '' Willi il;t,'ír a«,alt " f.ip • 1, ¡' • . íb. b. < :H M'Tbii \ b <, íi'út'm tur,- a b ia bs ¡ ; 1 - • y - -a! 'b 1Л r ■ r-aaa; ía.aa. ja" Vt ;5a Y, J;í \ *; «;V' a w b-1 ber la, laid ¡Kaai a lark а ЦсЬ';- a,- 'b „ %y . • (.\< нлшгау/, lía* f< (ч-лЬ^а- ^ •■ « *»ui'r, ,.;л,| t >aî -j,", J iiis^'uufim*.. just tb-. - :n •/,,».•• у.': oí'y i :. -i '-'«vi.,! {.Уду.ч voíba^' ' I a 'a>- b«.! • даЬ t'a^yb? vu.at ¡4Í!.« -ia i,» a¡ .;: a: a, b:«.î«b;tr . : y "-a ;tiíd U',-»l(ba';ba Ь> !чЬ,а<а ';b . r;.r' f*.aa •< 1 Xb'« »b.'f-a -'/'it,-:" >4!bs ¡bbba., yra!b>(- fbr 1 ' '.V «'¡i»'' ai Га,- H'.a :a b abab t'! - - !1 • • a a b , abb, ;., aa.-b ■ b ,a the" 1! . *yb bon- ara у-и Ь.,цаЬ b" ¡ (,_-Г1Иу,а h«v-, "íivnt*-,^y »-Ь/н:4 т.; •' baf"ab • y»a- aa'^ b> bai a. ( : .4 you ai sell; b:. • a «a- of :r < !,1 n'w,' na a? «•- a :a-- 'y..t''b b-a/t- í-/ !».':k ) :'*'а:"аЬ^а ly .) асу fy hour—'th*- baobir! r»r i-" b bar <а<аач, "Look yef yf:r w*rsi»ip/' says IloMii, "да |»t зау «я your money down here, and afterwards we'll < , j * 1, ¡jH. y, iJlyj,. |^,(у •í a"< I rbr,^'?b \M.-b , 4,,n t.,,t ,tl> у ;/;,y "Л baa- b../;/:«;.*: r.,'. b ,»a U« .,aar f.-ro iars. * _ N.> tb" ,biaí:í ¡ ч'ЬЬ „a' lab ;,ar*», у^-шнУ! bai *4!?«а',\ !> > i ;i- а-агУ a --b-: Ja î b< a- liamaa-.b. !/a!, [ { rb-iy :a.< - .'I y" r.-:-< >u:-V, W A;-,\%:>, • ib-i-.- were three hundred golden, glittering j m л ';r«'i^/js foiling out. upon the grass, I bobin 0«a, la 'a,,j - Л a ay ;•«• î br< <» y; irt.-a a, ait» aaa-'.' 1 b¡> tta'ia ;nai retanabi a'.aya oil tiaaa -.да.- )-ab to uriaiiiitl owncia v. :.aba 1. tb:aw the reader WÜ1*agree, ■ab aaab; ;a:^ J a v»,r; iair^a '. 'jiiab -'Ь^.а'-'Уа, ( k nat -bru ab' ab-, a..-, aa " ,..ay a-,' jor,»ai joktv; •a oourfo, not j nil ihn- tbn«-* the nuittcky sheritf, who ifas awfaiiy 1 Ьааату 'tab tîiiray. л:i;.ni-í;-....<] a, a,i>k i.'n/tícd íiy a a.baba>i,,ajav îr !á,ar ]„• t-ablab hum'. '•ll'ivraal ÎH-rr.N? Paaiîy—/Ь..'1-ibba ( T h;»d î aa î v.n«* ka ,aa Tb . ,,.а-аГ , xn ...J f.. Í ыжп •'"•'"i* .-о iaaay -a an to aa.i b\ !.a< !a •' *-aal fr/ма я a» '!а,чщ *í{ raiata »aj in a yaj tíaa' 01 ib. Л ма1 s- bi О; 1 iaîaabt'b -a i i¡,. ,;í(;>( * *" Abatí toaipauyb' | N«»w, biaa»/1 ^аГ|т* bt'îd .»utb-д-, *• wilt you ,, ^íf! »^n?t bary a yood b»ab uf laab to íu-b ' ya«absa Ь,. Ihi» íaaa-c t., г,П,»ч>',, tin; |мя, 'S;';:î;s; styrb,' .4;«a-hl. y-":', «oj b.-.-r !.•,:!,a-r. лг ya,,- m'VHV -batanea:-; '!î;l|b« '.'b* v. f-ЬУЬ lia- b -b! > c'ao.v. - n>, 1 лу , r aabaa yrb- • ai L a,a .,4 «m a,\ hi.a.0. :rrrt w much tîa-b ,a'.f>rba ava- r.-Jr! %h.a r-nrf of j aîl<î aliay-t'aa- a b-^-ub-aî obi baffbr Г /~™!u*y b..* b- /{;a aiaa »abaa-y b-- vba.-y-Tab 1." ¡ ']'},., hy, _ j,v j, ,y yt>,Â,.,> r >\,r yy mjab \va,-' :;',i!*i'î' . » Ь * cui*JU-.c«i, ,aab b>; .-"UiVî*«n\ biaaiüíi b; vaa ;ц •bi- o a a ra? yt.-'ir ^a.rbby, îf you il с sa" лПн aa*, cbarcli, П1 ab.av yon' my aatíb-, and than у-п ^oi rb^-aal » yfi;ily ;y; rfyiab' abb fb" oab^v obiof. »• 8a ':r b'-'i'^'b i;asy, f)r;aa: !' r-aby'•■•"!• i« v.,a. ia-r líMV vn,j y Uf!, |¡íitr lM l;ikv bty «,\irf •: ;yb " v(,:,i;\ baa^ji' war, //aa 1 a.< a 0 ont, 1 ;aaf j.atvta aab aba a;v ^a:/^ b*« vi.-it" (boo- if | lut: hiaaidï nyr.^d« ;/ot- a baa <>t ыопиу. aab. у;и} Jt ta].:rn t}r. /ahW dar in NoM¡;í^baayt von'ra •,,':!<,i b;!'f-y" i\ lb-bub raab, Tb*- ;aiicrb.a\a na.baoai.a Л/ллх, le- :¿: <"\>>inl b-r 1 bt; kiuú u4t b-aa (лог ,чо aar u;!«. the b.r.'^t, y U' 'v- a.ah b \t/a aab,1 jaaa»'!.:bar w io }aa; iui.,/h, "\1Ь"Л aîib!!! !h'-v Ь.<г,.ч1 !ь-а„а ^aray.aaa; aa.l »i of baa k b,aiaa*f о.мш-у aa^f .a;ivs at, wo5>hi},. pr^anr.i). »\S*,n>; (T bf TOlit|n,îi;(î, Vumm^á'm^o. a, a^.ay t a/u- pat a: a' fo b, i « 1. •l ЛЬ ,-aaaa-b" na:.vo ro! b,ob ÏU »ab-^aa - V«a , y ,y ,lf.( • \a нЬ'Г.' arb'.O-d 1-.V KbbbV г,ь, aaiiïc .Vt.Vaa, Law aa.l O. i,,tV *!'!!., Ич.-, ! a 01.'" 0,1a--I. Saa-i^a'- Inisiitaa«, -braa-b o"a,-.^f 1 baa -tj ;a,a it. ¡ y,,;,;, t., ,j a,r tb- I о ! o"oy. <а;ал loil-aa-, ;a, 'o'a,, Л, 'Л . I i • М-. О*- • i:' ''"a » .aa-fía!, Uj, V: v:.. Л L WO, 194 BOYS OF ENGLAND. [Milien 1, 1870. "Of course there will be difficulties; but I -should like to know who wrote that letter." "So would I. But, Frank, I am not going to •stay in bounds for three weeks.*' «« I don't think I shall. But, good-night, old áellow ; I am most awfully sleepy." The two boys then sought their respective -couche?, to dream of the pretty creatures they had been dancing with. Hope whispered in their cars that time might and would remove many of the obstacles that stood in the way of the attainment of their wishes. CHAPTER XL CHANGED PROSPECTS. A WEEK passed away. : Neither Frank Egerton nor the Earl of Pern- ^bridge had as yet gone beyond the boundary prescribed. Charlie Fitzgerald, not being in love, took his punishment more calmly, though ¿he confinement was very irksome even to him. One morning Frank received a letter. It wa3 in his mother's handwriting, but Egerton was compelled to read it through twice <гге he could thoroughly comprehend it. "My darling Frank," it said. "You must .ask Doctor Whackley to allow you to return home immediately. Your father is very very ill, and I fear for the result. His unfortunate city speculations have been the ruin of his health. So come home at once, dear Frank, to your affectionate, grieving mother "Ada Egerton." Frank at once rushed off to Doctor Whacklcy's study, showed nim the letter, and was told that He might.start immediately. Two or three of his friends assisted him to pack up his portmanteau, and then saw him off to the railway station. How long the journey seemed compared with that to school, and how different everything appeared. At .length he reached London. Calling a cab, he jumped into ;it, and was ■speedily driven to his father's town resi- dence. His mamma was waiting for him in the hall, and as Frank leaped from the vehicle, he could «ее that she had been weeping. ;ln;.an instant he clasped her in his arms and íkissed :her. "You must not worry yourself, my dear .mamma;" said he. "All will be well in a few •days.". Mrs. Egerton!s only answer was a sob. »" And how is ïpapa?" The sobs increased, but in the midst of them ^Frankiaucied he heard the solemn word, ".DeadI" ;So sudden, so solemn and fearful was the news that it proved ;too much for even the Wealthy serves of the boldest boy of Lexicon .College. He, swooned. On his recovery, he found himself lying upon* •a coucbrbytbe side of which knelt his mother implorin g the powers above to grant tUe widow and the .orphan strength to bear the great trial that, had,befallen them. • .* .* * * *' Three days elapsed. All that-was-.mortal of poor Frank's father had been consigned to the tomb, and a little party had assembled in the library to hear the will read. It was very short. Everything the testator possessed was be- queathed to his son, Mrs. Egerton and Mr. Throckmorton, the family solicitor, being exe- cutors. The ceremony had scarcely been concluded, when the butler entered with a large, official- looking letter, addressed to Mrs. Egerton. "•Read it for me, please," said the widow, handing it to Mr. Throckmorton, The legal gentleman-did so. "I must speak to you and Mr. Frank alone," ,said be, when he had looked through the letter. Mrs. .Egerton wearily rese,sand led the way to another »apartment. "This letter," said Mr. Throckmorton, when he had closed the door, "is from a solicitor, and is to inform you that his client, Thorfield Hilton Baynes, holds a mortgage on all the estates of the late Mr. Egerton,-and that if the sum of £9,475. 16s. 8d. is not paid within three days from the date of this letter, the morgagee will be compelled to-foreclose without delay." "Then pray settle with him .without delay,, Mr. Throckmorton." "I am sorry to be obliged to inform you, madam, that tho matter is too serious to be dis- posed of in so easy a manner. There is not an eighth part of that-sum standing to your credit in the bank." "Oh, Avhy .did you not advise him against such a step?" "I assure you,.on:my word of honour, madam, that I never, till this day, heard of such a mortage. He once spoke to me on the subject, but I fancied I had persuaded him to abandon the scheme." "Then what is to be done?" sighed the poor widow. "That xcquirçs .eonsjdcratiori, madam. Your husband borrowed all the available cash I pos- sessed some three months since, or I could have offered to relieve your difficulties." "Only three days 1 That is cruel Î" exclaimed Frank. "Surely this must be the father of the boy I thrashed 1" "What!" "There is a boy named Hilton Baynes at Lexicon College. I gave him a very severe beating the first day I was there. Perhaps this is his revenge!" "My son, why did you fight to bring all this trouble upon me?" "I would not have done so, mamma, had I guessed what it would result in; but I could not stand by and see him ill-treat one much smaller and weaker than himself." "It cannot be helped now, Frank dear," said Mrs. JEgerton, throwing her arms round her son's neck. "The only thing we have to consider is how to get rid of this mortgage." "I will see this solicitor at once, and get an interview with Mr. Baynes, if possible," said Throckmorton. "Perhaps we may be able to come to some amicable arrangement." Mr. Throckmorton did manage an interview with Mr. Baynes's solictor, the next day, and Mr. Baynes himself happened to come in while the two were conversing. But no good resulted from the meeting, and he was compelled to return to Mrs. Egerton, and inform her that, according to the terms of the letter, the money must be forthcoming within the specified time. The remainder of the term of grace granted was spent by Mr. Throckmorton in endeavouring tojraisc sufficient money to pay off-ithe ,encum- brance. In that too'hc was unsuccessful, thoughhetried in every direction. ,* *.# * # * Heartrending-was the fscene when the widow, rand orphan were .compelled to quit the home. vwhich,'for so ;many -years, lhad been one of ^happi- ness to them. •On .examination it^was found that Mrs. Eger- ton, after setting aside a sum for ¡Frank's educa- tion, would be in-receipt of an:incomc of nearly two hundred a-year. "That's cnoughtto:live on till I can retrieve our fortunes,^said Shrank, endeavouring'to put a gay. face upon the matter. Eventually ;a ;small house wasjtaken in'the southern suburbs, to which the widow lady removed. Frank returned to school, it having been de- termined that he should remain there for another year at least. •CHAPTER XII. A CONSULTATION. At Lexicon College Frank found things going on much ,as they had been previous to his father's death. The boys had heard from the Earl of Pern- bridge and Charlie Fitzgerald that it was Baynes's father who had held the fatal mort- gage; accordingly, Baynes himself was for a few days shunned more than before. Gradually, however, he was re-establishing himself in the good opinion of some. "How can it be my .fault? What blame can attach to me?" he would*95k, "I am not re- sponsible for my father's ^business transactions. And, if Egerton had .written to me when notice was first given, I might have helped to make some arrangement." This argument .was accepted Oby many of the boys; but it was quite evidentito some of the more observing ones that Baynes .was in reality very pleased at the misfortune that had come upon our hero. For a day or two after his return Frank was permitted to do as he pleased, but he veryjsoon settled down into the regular routine .of the school. * * * » ■* Egerton very soon found that the mysterious sounds in the corridor were still heard .at,nights. No one had been able to discover how they were caused. Watching was useless.. . .. „ Frank had a notion that jWebber had some- thing to do with it. By way of proving the correctness of his idea he took an opportunity of quietly turning the key in the lock one night when leaving Freddy's room after a friendly chat, thus making that ingenious youth a prisoner. The trick was so far successful that no strange noises were heard that night. It would be impossible, however, to always keep Freddy under lock and key, so Frank set his wits to work to find out in what manner the peculiar sounds weic produced. The next night, as soon as all the boys were in their rooms, he strewed the whole of the floor of the corridor and staircase with fine sand, upon which would appear the footprints of any one who walked about in the night. Next morning, after the sounds had been louder than usual, Frank, and one or two others to whom he had entrusted his secret, looked out. - 1 The sand upon the flooring was marked with the most peculiar kind ö£ scratches imaginable, [ but no footmarks could be seen. The boys were more puzzled than ever, and the younger ones were confirmed in their belief that Lexicon College was haunted by/unquiet spirits. V Frank Egerton, Marsham, the ¿Earl of Pern- bridge, and Charlie Fitzgerald, held a con- sultation. I Each of them had thoroughly examined the floor of the. corridor before the sand was swept away. "Those maries could not have been caused by any human being," observed Fitzgerald. "Yet how could a phantom—a thing of air, a 1 mere-shadow—do anything of the^kind?" asked Frank. :î: "Perhaps neither a human being nor a spirit is -the moving cause of these strange noises," observed the carl. "In.which case we must suppose some vege- table substance to .be endowed .with powers of .locomotion. How absurd 1" sneered Mar- sham. ^Not at all," replied Pembridge. ^ • "Then how could the noises be made,?" .„ ":By auimals of the inferior order." -"Ah, that is possible," said Frank. .•"{But where do the animals come from? There .arc no cats or dogs in the house," said Marsbam. -"'That's what weihave to find out:" "Then if they arc animals, .my ^animals, my pets, shall have a look at them."' "What do you mean'?" V.. "I «mean to bring ;my two .terriers into school to-night, and take "them upto^my room. As soon'as the noise is heard, .open goes the door, and out goes Pincher. The jresult is, of course, that any living thing not .big enough to run away with the dog is stopped.1^ "Very good. But what vwill ibe the conse- quence?" "We discover the ghost." "And the doctor discovers that your dogs have been brought into the school-house, con- trary to his express orders." "I don't think he would be very angry. At March l. iS70. 1 195 BOYS OF ENGLAND. events, I'll risk it for the sake of unearthing Freddy's ghosts." The little group then separated. Marsham went to the " Six Bells" to visit his ghost Hounds, as he now styled the terriers. He had the satisfaction of finding them in a very lively condition and evidently well fitted for thp task he desired them to perform. Fitzgerald, who had taken a very studious turn Of late, went back to the school-house to thumb the pages- of Homer. "Ï must imitate his example," Frank Egerton remarked to his companion, the Earl of Pern- bridge. , **I hope not, Charlie is getting quite ill." "It is necessary for me to study now more than ever. My prospects are very much changed, and X shall'bave to work hard to make myself a name and position when I leave school." '■'What profession do you intend to adopt?" "It was my father's wish that I should become a barrister, and I now feel more than ever com- - pejled to respect his wishes," "Frank, I have, or shall Ijave much influence. It shall be exerted to the utmost to promote your "Welfare," "For which promise I sincerely thank your lordship." _ " Oh, bother 1 and drop the title, please, Frank." "Certainly, if you wish it. And now I want you to tell me if you have seen or heard anything of those girls?" "No; I wrote to Lizzie though, and had an answer. She and her sister were extremely sorry to hear of your misfortune, I wish, :I could fincV out who sent that note to the doctor." ч '■ *?'r, "So do I. 'Sorry to inform you^that your pupils frequently visit a house inhabited .by people whose moral character will not bear ex- amination—a house well known to the police.' By Heaven! a good idea strikes me. The police shall tell the doctor what they know about old Conway and his daughters.*' "That would be best." "I will write to the inspector this evening, and ask him to call upon the doctor to- morrow 1" Acting upon this idea, the two boys returned to the school, and concocted an epistle which they dispatched by'tbe hands of their general servant, Harry, to the inspector of the Ballsbury police. ;■ : :, In half-an-hour the messenger returned. "Well?" demanded Frank. "That's his answer, sir," said Harry, handin] a letter. Eagerly tearing open the envelope, he read that the inspector knew nothing whatever against the people mentioned, believed .them to be very re- spectable, and would be most happy to serve fir. Egerton and his friend, the Earl of Pern- bridge, by stating as much to the principal of ■Lexicon College. "That's all right," said he, most joyously, apartment had also provided a policeman's lantern. "Freddy is frightened ; he won't let his ghosts loose to-night," said Fitzgerald. "Hark! here it is," observed Pembridge, holding up his finger in a listening attitude. "I don't hear it," said Frank, rising softly. ""Nor I," said Marsham. "Besides, I know these two beauties would soon give the alarm if any one walked along that corridor." "Well, I fancy I shall go to bed," observed Fitzgerald, after a pause. "Don't go yet," was the general response. "I can hear the spirits moving now," said Frank. At that moment one of the dogs, Pincher, half rose, and, looking towards the door, gave a low growl. "13c quiet," muttered Marsham, stooping down and placing a hand over each dog's mouth. The pattering noise was now plainly heard on the staircase. At last there came the gentle sçratching sound at the door of the room they were in. That was the signal for action. Fitzgerald immediately turned on the bull's- eye, while Frank Egerton threw open the door. "At them, good dogs ! Kill them 1" exclaimed Marsham, and with a succession of shrill barks the two terriers dashed out. One boldly scampered down the stairs, its feet making a noise something like that they had previously heard, while the other dashed up the corridor. By the time Fitzgerald could get to the door with the light a succession of shrill voices were heard.. ", The next moment they saw that Pincher had secured a fine rabbit. The other dog had rushed down stairs ; and, as soon as captive number one had been killed, the boys prepared to see what was going on below. Of course many of the other boys had kept awake in anticipation, and more than one door CHAPTER Х1П, f' LAYING THE GHOSTS. That evening at supper time there was a gene- ■ ral buzz'.of whispered ^conversation going on. Somehow or other fthe secret had leaked out that Egerton andi Maraliam.had bid defiance to the ghosts, and'that the secret would most pro bably be divulged during' the night. Да they trooped off to bed Frank and his com- panions stood at the bottom of the staircase, and cautioned them, all to keep in their rooms, They ivcre the last .to retire. Doctor Whackley had been informed that his senior' pupils intentcd to -trap the midnight '^isturbers, but had not been, told how it -was to be4one. . '■ \ He promised them that no one should be Permitted to interfere with their arrangements, then went to his study. For;about an hour after retiring all was -to find out from some one else." "They belong to Webber, sir." "Very good. Now then to your beds, .boys. These dogs, I suppose, must remain here all night? I hope they won't bark or howl." "I'll take care ' of that, sir," replied Jilax- sham. CHAPTER XIV. FBEDDY IB DOUBLY PUNISHED. The next morning, when the names - were^allect over, Doctor Whackley ordered Freftdy fco сдае to the front. He then harangued the whole school on „tjie sin of practical joking generally, an$ of J^èjïdy's joke in particular. The worthy doctor detailedevery circumstance; how the rabbits were originally captured'^n, the woods, how Webber had brought them Жртс and confined them in this hutch, always fcaldng cave to leave the .door open at night,'a .circum- stance which the instinct of the animáis ..Jed them to take advantage of for the pui^c&Q^of indulging irx a. scamper'over the premises;, the same instinct inducing them to return to ily?ir lair at daybreak, . , ''>•'' Having been thus .'solemnly replayed, fIpopr Freddy was^weUVbircHe^ jan operation дЩсЬ. brought the water intp his eyes.' "V" 1 However, he soon recovered his neural gppd spirits, and an hour after school, had,-in. all pro- bability, forgotten his whipping. The King of the School and those who aided in the detection of the rabbit trick, had, after was thrown open as they passed to sec what had j another consultation, come to the conclusion happened, Freddy Webber peeped out. "I "Sold, my boy I" exqlaimed Marsham, play-1 fully striking him on the head with the dead rabbit. "What a shame to kill the poor rabbit." re- plied Freddy, retiring into his room to hide his vexation at the discovery .of his trick, and the death of his pet. Egerton and his friends hurried away towards the lower part of the house. On arriving at a large room in which the. pupils were allowed to keep boxes to contain their bats, balls, cricket shoes, &c.}- they found the dogs making desperate exertions to reach two or three more rabbits. The animals had retreated-to a kind of hutch, and'were safe. '* Át all events we know how the .noise is, made," said Frank; "that is que great satis- faction." "But we must punish Freddy in some way or. other," replied the proprietor of the dogs. "We had better wait till to-morrow," said, Frank. i( Let us sec how the doctor takes it." At that moment the gentleman spoken of made his appearance. "Well, ¡young gentlemen, have you discovered Ah, what is this?" he exclaimed, as one of the dogs took a sniff at his leg. "Two dogs, sir," said Marsham. tl Is it these animals that have caused this dis- turbance for some weeks past?" "Np, sir." "Then how came they here?" "They are mine, sir; I brought them into ¿he college to assist in detecting the offenders." . " Against the rules. Remind me of this cir- cumstance in -the morning, Fitzgerald." "I assure ypu, sir, this ,is the first time they have been in the building, ^ I should not have brought them in now, had it not been suggested that they would find out the nocturnal prowlers." "Humph I Well, don't let it occur again, What did you find?" "Some rabbits, sir. Here is one of them." "Killed the ghost, eh? ha, ha t But now we that the dozen strokes Freddy received were riot a sufficient punishment for his offence. So, in spite of the doctor's warning -against practical joking? they resolved to victimise■** Stale dodges would be simply a waste of time, for Freddy -would naturally be on. the !<>ök\out, and, therefore, would not be very' easily trapped. Several plans were suggested, but >á}l uvévQ found fault with. *" .: , - i "Let us take a stroll through the :town»"-:said the earl. "We„may see something or other 'that will give us an idea." The proposal was agreed to, and áhéy set Out, ':'■ A shoemaker's shop very naturally t..suggested wax, but that, was.överrruled. *' ■* "See 1" exclaimed Frank, pausing before' a fish stall, on which some crabs were "exhibited. "If we could only get.some, of ;those salive;*' u What would you dd with them?" "Put them in his bcd."# "You can have some live ones, this -evening, sir," said the proprietor of the fish .establish- ment. '. " "У.": "That's jolly. What time Г ... "About eight o'clock." A bargain was immediately concluded. * * * *" * Evening came, and poor Freddy little; knew what was in store for him. After .supper, tbe jEarl of Pembridge flipped away without being observed, and placed jthe live crabs beneath the covering- of Freddy's bed. Webber-feared that something was intended, and hastened away soon after. His room, however, appeared not to have been entered by any one. Це waited for thie boy whp occupied the other bed, and who had returned from. the sick de- partment, and saw Hutchinson fairly beneath the sheets' ere he himself attempted to un- j dress. BOYS OF ENGLAND, Whoo },<• did гм;И!:, f,, о many ааь í>t'íof4: h-.- h: и i bi bis í*Ь и is in :a r\i-u U, уГа: .Мм ]>.- burobya Ib' \"\\, S;Jtí¡,« /b/'У;^ .•: л i t i f i i ,-■ b Ьчдааа, f ba iMt oowtl a-! Thí>, of ^.ЦГЧГ. SV! <*гаЬ типе!*,м ío íon Hi: ff!v who j r:;iîi!'. n;s! i-» V ;• ÍIST0RY. 0!'fîW)t OVCÏl™ i Napoba1*:" the Ar«*V Looi*' mu- Ю ЬаЛ'«ГраГ;о fHÍ Willi 'í'S'' and lb?- <■:(- 'i'ífí.n. пПо Í!;4 ÎHVÎ W !' '" 'i ¡Vüiícr tía цч a^aara : a .4! lo HT<-<'¡ i tiiii)' пьуам, 'it* r^múa-.í a г in,' oaejun УК taoa. r lí: ifs pow tho sama aaa-oi'.î rrab number tw<« ou*- d'Sporai*- * ni,oи urb-1 on ил toc>\ Mwrdor!" baibav-d Krodd}. hub.ba.a и. band from w hieb daaab-*1 !Ь> агУ, ;щ< M„f'ín I" dvado í¡ .4 a- • ab 4,,',; fool <1 ;«It WílS bai ¡a vT aífaoked by !oa i Ufiilíi;»!, Eutchiiiíf-'П таи- d hi¡i,- оц h¡;~ У aad liavc a, qahi daa-kie a; fbo >4 ¡ sana-, *» What's tlxe matter, Freddy inquired :¡ P»?í, <»|н-?ПШ„* îbo d'»o|\ ]¡o ,'IMÍ '•■ íí р.ч I bíid hoon waítaao; outdd.a ill exprahb, Ion oí i buch мааша 4* M a Mor r?H;4i!;b' Tib-' i -i ;i v.-ry 'baitbtr of Flavia а; .ч ]'«"J"u ." *'Hervo« von rb.rhi, КпчЫу»*' aid Marshal "VHh's i!*? W'"'!l, 1 wir,!, yo a had »f t bruto* ihmtfu)** tn aaah <*arf thn. you w -i « sorv - í''ii h í ^ tí ? a í,r* ' ï" Wí-bbí'í* ÜH'i'-h it ;иг.' .i!; On ttirrtiîipr round to sftr, what bad boro î с it, ¡«:^h1m!i 'aiw flit- b'vud, bd b-.'ilü . Г mí. 1 sor M> ><'П1 /. ** Wbat íh di4? > oil b:if pbiy -япс ^-b" 1 >ys," 11 Pí«-:iS'' d,.!n'i i-**y ni:yíhni«; í«. íb^'b,; U з |»rofes-'í>r, Wi* wfnbl do i! airai»;," Мгш idnli * v.íüií ,dí:i:i lin;. Ьс;>.л! )» í' Tbc prob'S-or do^pi-d, *í»otá i!, i¡pt ":?¡d * i diíttr!V n4'«-ivi'd a biiíd'p ïdp. He dropped it much mare hastily tin л bmi ulekvd ¡I no, lo !Ы< tjr»-4! tb-'í/ío í5| |)0V>#* '' j nui !'AS.JAííK f)K TÍÍK BlViai JÍKUKSíNA. ** 1 bbalî чау HUhmg; but jf /.o d**;brr síiaii j Ho wifchod him pass nVmçr tni- ch'sI of th>-\ tho rivrr 'Гацп-. wrm:h h« Ьн-f ili^d, nnd where be obwrvo ihl* /\oi."0 Î jiHisi lio«/ you,'* n:iid b»% «ppy tbl4,;i d-^ecud, :ifni ojíI-t i b»- b'.wn by -лшл };»-r! -ab'iy b-fb^d ;hc asvodiF of fb- ' м-ту. wi|4!i^ tin- da;na^:d fi'íir^r» ^ í roil''*' * j TbVy ii«av Iik.wu iti Ьымгу н- th^ //bíA< V * TtiP doftor won't kiii.w, KÎr:* j "' „.|rYfnînir ]ито oootl ccarcîy bclîpyf hn | 7b/-/rx Vôtres. « , (Г f , i^w.w,; * i ¡ N(ilîii.,s :^ .; ^ , л< ..,-w,í ^a'- fbai 4v.yJ. лЬннЬ îo-Iîuht^W wUu b il:U!oI.,,1) !■» г ч) ,Ьь, a: í v,' о i(¡id íi.aífi.'d Ьг' |í-:^'T, í'ao-iiï.'1, '.v:,s vî'-\;'o'.î bv Ьпп u> ï;i- throne of Maples, uOÍ. Tbiak-b:- that poo! !*"n-b. jv !.-/( } ,» Н;;,Ь; t*a'b'"jitl\ puaada.'d, Krarik b;a 'í"i¡^ г.\< fhil j hin álreií^liu und ivleas»«i bas ibb-Ld íruia tMflUro, j I WMrd fo yp¿','ik aab yoa, И^-'Г^т^ т!;^; profI»SM к!'. ¿ Vas/* *; u í Ituf й:оп him ibi town, Voll naa4 wu!.*5i ¡Oíd л > i it í.' y-,o' •aab-'." *l ¡Un. -it, í x'boí.Id ".o! kao'-л ray ino*b; b' 1 ,aa\' ídoib" í%T'Mí wiîî sea if hi« fc: и orí vi n.c.'iub!«' fhr-v - U'.'ib I 'vib !ry, ííobd-jii'/bf,, a^r;"' aaa a^i' bviaaa' üvo!: П"<« 1ч« roí !'»¡;;«"L < Vfü--v.'"«l iv, IK \\ M KN я Oha: Wü V rov v-îfbo He was enthusiastically received in that city. ...VV'V'' ab!"r;if;b {^П»ягго! b,nvavf Kr;u;..,. v lHi,,v;{*'1» ^lill'h w,«w tisa i-hkf w oi ■b,niv^ ,чЬ((( .^o,., ,; ЧьЬ, Vf IUí| Uncían .voip-'^r -^"ы Ät^Ä^^^^^ ^^ï- wiU. hi- Lava • -' ',JIi)i'f Ип^ттия^, un¡i this* лглг the first iviaso f the raptare between the two emperore* vancc was the marriage of И •ti avai i-' l'h<, мак* 'vy :.м»;.^ F;;i!;î; aad t la; y:« We)'" ^Moíll ' ab",;t t !;h tow?: tr ,.^ci bar и »"k I foi- lia- ид - î- bï.{jv)ba;ij v. i,-, a-h'4'bf k ad;b'!< ?;o{ bo. t':\< a.aoio oí on?- h*"a>. H.vuioa p--rand»-!!ai<'d tbi xfo-a.' for bujo. t b'-y aabod loWa/'<í:- fia: ** baa IU, и llMîtl, II I the t., .-4; luv, i Ajioíier ^ t л _ . . Nap*>i»*oa with an Austrian- princess.. Kussia ю: 'ob • ib" b.ií.iNC- oí p^Avrbd и, ],¡n^r róv.Mi! - UV::ll:ï^ by'' -r.VÏ/y^^'ioï?/.;-; _ :l'-'',Л,l■',í•'"*-' "í; !° îiiî''',-1,«l Ь.М- Own j "* wuut íí...kve you pjl to лау î"!* } «aaivlf NtiîVta, j ;а<Ьа;у. • hundí-, loa; I xi' aa rra/y ' •' a î-m .'..t in b,b,! Al'it" in4 '^''bbaïo , ^^at" bal ain iî' ьа;.«-1г,о \;.рм;(.,(1,\ f oüt¡- I Uctucjuia.-. i „lilt;;| ,},.,-,иП;! of which wo have* «pokon in л j . — ^ • - — : orova-;,-' a-aapba"; vd i!,.- i'r- то-dt oop.oríír^wb^ j * r Hi;; 4;tit fjj. »(, ги.1;гь«, • Low ;»;¡a .чггау» Ь ia.O' ;• 1 b. b.aaaa", tbo military BOYS OF ENGLAND, Stroth of WYsU'Ht i-ai baldly advanced tu attack tlit . ^Wii o.»umry. ïhc Uu««lan* bad. rasolvrd *■ i •\f>tioii vdaea proud woiakrf • > T)*b* Was V) avuid ïiiooUakf л И; but in ladroaf, nnd, aîî-'î *Ь.е French f;ir fI4l!sî «upjj*¡r! i ¡;lk upyii üsi;iii ui íu,st wl - >rííííX too Üv.-a.vns liad ioisr.ro b* о»оаД dos, aad ïnmiA ílnrm lu uíut/um t«; hotwoui aad íorív dav^aad. , ,^иро!еои, with the mnin ■ ay , kivo \ . :'' iî'i.^iuî)* adaodt ood !hoi *'1 l'-t ";,aî, ami 1m\ iaval "*í! -('U linar и vdhip* п;;ик 'yja uuiVii :twaiír¡i tin: invadí'-' ■ , Ч'к- Ki'OJtoh «о|Ч« ЬмЫ th.; "'^tiiiutc; nearly sevendv üiwooiu««. к'11 poiarkiod in ihr: Batik t day of oooUpai ion, fnv baa ». P"art;d, in ЛiíTi rent quarters, and, at ka • i ^*tíuH.»i Ьу и binary wind, Iii'; ¡lames Ь>,ч t iUiisfrrK nf the city, ^apoL-cü now wiHiied t<* tiAvlï^.u'^• } ^^tfrsbur^; but Ids irciiei:aisà uppu,si;'i tk; } . i bcii)^ t* .u dan^oroiis. A mouth was wasted in id!*1 discussiun ; =i с lfn XapoktMi не»! to I be Enrían mi)>>- <. '5p"rs jn-act'. aiiswor с;шн'. aud lie r<-« *^ved to retreat » - <'-^:sp« * I Г.ГГГ! Uli«'H'f ;ï r ^ii; v<'d- á'4'. ai.! ¡ií'tmí-:ííLf ■in- >«'i'atf wsiii'd u:.-¡( ! N'.p«'l.-o», ui;-- !, * I a provisions! com- -! ral a ib, a,-.-uî(it'«! î he oí tilo tl4**H»S í Ц íH-arÍv ífirtdo fdíiiHtnf: глу, w îi'-н 1н: *л;ш ai í ol li," ííoduii';. n death ^ i i Ь tw»d.\c îïîlf !',>■>■,I Л, К,'. ^ o.'ían;,- í,« i i*/id Н**> !i?,, for, »v~dl,-- !. i ! a >r «.( tbo .'fid. b a -;.y.-. d.d. do a.uad ни; adwii ir<. :i,\'hi .-oua'k ог.лКчал- >îr-i î "dinned di ií^-át.- î JuPkintr fXf other • (I, í)>ííí~o4." thpV' so l.i.PAin'i'ïïK OF ТЛИ KI.'SSIAN ^PV. ÍO I'iil^r; hvdii li't/f tîn.so. ndi'-ui laa.v U/como la- id ОГ.Г oOîïl- F roí a-íi ar ai)' 4arr*' d\ d' od u ttii>t ia>t Le tili- r** jiioiaa * u y* ur >¡H'Ukkr bkv t;;bá>." *' Daa'l каин." '* 1 will .show y-nd* Miicî Ti ira kîndîy takîii|r it, "Thj- y«.a -i-vid wa« :"..-iaoiiïïa*,> íortfoídut, having l't'oa oay.jgod to ykaid tha caa^a of an otTonder. bó;,y,ai Ly CA\ 'dr^—" l kn.m lit р/шит ai tho dar, and Ы 'Ьоагг d.c ehara'.itur of bokaj; а шоЧ coi^um- n„ki«' aad aiaaíd'rat M'o.aaii« i' livo , wíd^p€r«aí ta hin; ihm iL»; рп,чд;»т wa>, Ьи cdkiil, wîit'i] he íiamediaífi)" соМапн.'Ц—,v Jîut \n i ¿ai p'r »-ut aad good maa oaa-r dvtd who wan not calimniiaii'd •t the Froiaii had by нашу of hk- co£itn,porafics ds MA^A^HE OF ГПКЖЩ BY THE COSJ*ACK»« w'miv.v liuù to; íí! uuu-'.ra'dy oarly. [only jtj^t limo to throw two frail k;idt а • !»■• ..v..: kaa ie--> '|,f" Fsvndi :.ra]- vor' o-îarrd^îi'd : ana i; ' t rirma aa. a^ d:, d. h.-: -l. - d 7 V" ^"uorrv wiooa iky t'» ?ra vi-о,- »»!. . 11,< >у.л;р.ч and <{rarTät'*;y amnr.u 'wi -a . . : u:^¡. - . ,.;a ;.л a>-: eir, Жат "t., PraiHv ia oxroiortod, mal a î ïa^ay ivoraon, w-.TC «Tov/dm^ ovo г them vh'-n 1 t;^.., {мГ thri,t, p^aor-a **' Wh>' dîaa'ï }' Í!H"íFnad?. p'.-rid.-d ,,; «*k : f"H ha-:'Jif,r, птм! As -.isnnl the wan'kr-1 fTdïerod!, ;v v't a k~";owa aa. va' itj»* oamo • t no l'.cr.*'onn tnr/a oomhaïîoiv ia a fa^nri. î«u;r 1; -,..,t b»- d^ao t:;.,r, by th:^ *-~лп<: i i:' h' • * í.i.iíd' ;y a< a'i.iava« d. Ikiaf/Nib./' -óa 'au'oí-лгГ - WoiV -, 19S BOYS OF ENGLAND. A STRANGE CAREER;; OK, THE FORGER'S У1СТВГ. CHAPTER XXYI.—(co7itim(ed). E'RE a stoppin', cap'en." "Yes." In a short time they ran into Crewe station. Captain Bingham got out and the guards were on the platform. "That was a good spin, sir."' "Yes. When shall we he in London? You won't stay here long?" "Only while they're putting a fresh engine on, sir." "That's right. Make them look sharp, and there's a sovereign for you at the end of the journey." Captain Bingham then went to the engine and saw the fresh one attached ta the train. He looked at the driver, a fine, healthy fellow, with jandy bushy heard, and a bronzed face expressive of good humour. "I should like to ride on the engine," said Captain Bingham. "I can't stand being shut up in that caboose." "Well, jump-up, sir," said the driver. "Sit down on that lump of coke, and* don't talk to me? only1 when b-begin to talk to you, and then you: won't interfere." In another minute the whistle sounded, and thef engine; started off. In a few minutes they were rushing along like the wind. It was* a suitable position for Captain Bing. Шт% ior it soothed his feverish excitement better than" being in the carriage with Tim. Here there, was; life and action—an iron giant grap- #lmg,-with space and annihilating distance. As theyuwent rushing along, the hopes of thecapt'ain increased—he felt certain of success; . Afters awhile they*'ran- into" Rugby station*, ThisWa* the läst ' stbppage theySvóulcl make before they reached- London. "Hew; wc shall' leaf ó you here, sir. My orders are to work it from Crewe to Rugby, and then I'm relieved." Captain Bingham got down on to the platform, and the "Firefly" was detached and run off from the metals, to make way for the fresh engine. The captain walked down the platform, to see after Tim. "All right, Tim Г "Aye, aye, sir." . "How do you like this travelling?" "Sooner be on deck, sir. It's all very well for a mile or two;, but it's precious tiring to be cooped up in-this crib like 'tween decks" The captain took some wine which they had brought, with them, and which Tim; had with him in the carriage,'and gave some to the guards. The iresh engine was attached to the carriages. Captain Bingham, after a word from* the guards, was invited to jump up on the engine:* The guards gave the signal for starting, and, after jumping into their vans, the engine snorted, out of the station. V; In? much, less „ time than they expected, they arrived* at Euston, where the captain told! j portbr to get'the two fastest cabs he could find; "What do you wanfrtwo for, sir ?" asked Tim; "It makes the load! lighter, and we shall,'no doubt, pick some one up on the road." The captain, got into the first cab, and Tim into the second. « Drive to192, t St., James's Square. Tell the other cab to,follow. Drive hard—arid charge double fare." Captain Bingham shouted out these instruc- tions with great rapidity, and the two cabs raced out of the yard. It was a quarter-past five when the two cabs rattle&out of the station yard. It was still dark. They were not' long? in reaching St; JamesT Square. Captain Bingham leaped out of the cab; and ran up the steps of Lord- Bartlemcrc's mansion, Ha pulled the bell long anóUurlously. The .footman, who had been mdulging'rathcr freely over night, was taking his-rest in an* arm chair in the kitchen. He arose, rubbed his eyes, and came out into the area, and in a yawning voice asked— "Who's' there?" "Come and see," said Captain Bingham, looking down at the man of plush; "and be quick, or by Heaven this will be the last week you'll be in the service of Lord Bartlemere." The footman soon appeared, and Captain Bing- ham, handing him a sovereign, said— "Take that for yourself, and take this card to your master. Tell his lordship I must see him instantly. I shall wait five minutes, and at the end of that time I must go to his- lordship if he won't come to me. Does he still sleep in the oak room?" The sovereign, the card, and the authoritative manner of the captain, opened the eyes of the half-drunken footman and extracted from him something- approaching' civility. "Walk in here,, sir." In a few minutes' Lord1 Bartlemere came down in his dressing-gown, and with his white night-cap still on his head*. His lordship had been- in the navy when youngerrin~ the same ship with Captain Bing- ham, and; from* that1- time a1 fi rnv friendship had existed.. 11 What, Bingham!" cried his lordship, in his rough, sailor-like manner. "Why, is it possible? They said in the papers you had gone dowivin the * Mermaid,' ground to pieces by icebergs I How are you? But there's something in the wind, my boy, or you wouldn't call at this hour. Who is this?" "A sailor—Tim Davies, who escaped with me from the shipwreck. All the others, save Mr. Lechmcre, were drowned. I must be quick with what I've got tö -say. You're acquaintedí.my lord, with the case of the murderer,- Oscar Merivale?" ¿y Yes, yes 1 Ah 1 How strange. That murder was done in your ship.'y The girl-was not murdered, my lord.- She! died of, consumption;»bcfore; my own eyes. This man, Tim, can.prove thatîas wellas-L" "And th6.twQrw.itne&ses—-i-'l ■ ï "Have sworn false I" "Good God f Whyv they have sentenced him to death," said his lordship, in surprise. "We must save him." "Save him !by Heaven, I should think so. But, Lord, he's to be hanged this morning! What shall we do? Come, Bingham, speak! What do you think of doing? You've had more time to think of it than I have." The good-hearted old lord was horrified to think how the hour was approaching. Never overburdened with ideas himself he looked imploringly towards the captain for a sug< gestion as to how to proceed. "We must go to the Home Secretary. I thought of going there myself with Tim; but he doesn't know me, and may not believe me." i "Right, right !" said his lordship. ( "You know him very well, and, no doubt, could gef an interview at any time." "Yes—go on." "Well; we must see him immediately. There must be no time lost. We're ready/togivc our account? of the affair on oath." . "Biiti these two men, who have sworn they 'saw the girl murdered, were tlicy not on board your ship?" Í "No."' j "They/were not?" \ "Certainly not; they never were' on board (the 'Mermaid.* I tell you, all- the people who were' on board the * Mermaid ' are now at the bottom'of the sea, with the exception -oí ^myself, Mr. Lechmcre, Tim, and Oscar Merivale." "And where,js Mr. Lechmcre?'' "SomewherüHn London, T wil the course of the day." "What could make these men- swear as the^f have?" "For money, there is no- doubt," said the captain. "But what money lias he got?" "Merivale left the ship with Bank of England scrip for forty thousand pounds.-" "And you think, it's to obtain/ this that; some one is at work to get hinvout of the way?" "Just so, my lord." I will find him in In five minutes, Lord Bartlemere and the* captain, in one cab, and Tim in the other, drove off to the residence of the Home Secretary. It was now six o'clock. They rang the bell. Fortunately, some of the servants were already stirring. A footman let them in, and showed them into a room to wait. "Take up my card," said Lord Bartlemere. "Tell him I must see him immediately." The Secretary came down in his dressing- gown. His face was lit up with a smile as he entered. "Well,Bartlemere," he said, "howdoyou do? And these gentlemen, who are they?" "This is Captain Bingham* late captain of the 'Mermaid,' and this is Tim Davies, a seaman on board the same vessel. They have come to solicit your interference to save an innocent man, Merivale, who is to be hung this morning, is not guilty. You must get him reprieved." The Home Secretary looked his surprise, and glanced rapidly and searchmgly towards Captain Bingham and Tim. "I presume Captain Bingham has some evi- dence to offer?" he said. "Conclusive evidence, sir." And Captain Bingham briefly ran through the history of the so-called Mr. Wood, as already known to our readers. Before he had concluded another cah thundered up to the door, and Mr. Lechmere and Oscar's solicitor alighted from it, Captain Bingham was delighted, and intro- duced Mr. Lechmere to the two gentlemen as- one who could corroborate in every particular the story he had himself told of the transaction. . But why was not all this stated" at the trial?" í .. "For this reason, there was no one but the condemned man to state it. Wo only arrived in Liverpool last night, and I took, special train up to London immediately'. 1* "heard of' tne affair," - - \ Sir George put several questions to Captain Binghám¿ and' then said— "The' evidence yon have both given cóiácides- ür every way with the statement made by the prisoner on his trial; but I wish to confer with Lord Bartlemere for a moment if you gentlemen will step outside." The captain bowed, and the party left the room. "Who is this Captain-Bingham, Bartlemere? I may rely on what he says, I presume?" "Certainly, without the least shadow of a doubt ,* I have known him from a boy.. I would answer with my life tHat his story is true." "Then we must! get a reprieve at once." "It's now five minutes *past seven," said Bartlemere. "There's only fifty-five minutes* Г11 take the order myself to make sure of its delivery." V / . - "Thank you; my lord," replied Che Secretary,. "I wilKsend it in thfc usual' way. It will be- there before you. Are you going?" "Yes; because if the order didn't get there- in time I should insist upon stopping the execu- tion myself." They again entered the cabs*. "Drive to Newgate prison. Sharp !" said his- lordship, for he was in a state of excitement. An immense crowd was standing' around the prison. The fatal beam was gazed upon by myriads "of ,eyes. Î With some difficulty they pushed through the crowd, and gained admittance. ; "We wish to see Merivale, the prisoner I" gasped Lord Bartlemere; "he is——" "Reprieved !" said the governor. "You've got the order, then?" "Yes, my lord; five minutes ago." CHAPTER 2QCYIL THE HOUSK IN MARYIiEfcONE LANE. Oscar was engaged'in a last interview5 with the ordinary, of the prison when the reprieve arrived, expecting every moment that the officials would summon him to perform the short journey1 that lay between life and death* Notwithstanding the gentleness with which the news o£the reprieve was broken to him, and Marciï 1, 1870.J 199 BOYS OF ENGLAND. the stoical fortitude with which he had braced' himself to meet his fate, the intelligence caused in him a revulsion of feeling that for some few minutes rendered him speechless and incapable of even thinking of his position. The sight of Captain Bingham, Mr. Lechmere, the lawyer, and his father, at length recalled him to himself, and the presence of his friends from the Arctic regions explained the reason that had prompted the reprieve. But several formalities had yet to be gone through before he could be released from prison, and cleanse his name from the taint of. crimi- nality. Mr. Prewis lost no time. Accompanied by Captain Bingham and Mr.- Lechmere, he waited; upon the magistrate, audj after a recapitulation of the circumstances at- tending the charge against Oscar, and the refuta- tion given by those who had survived'thV loss of the *'Mermaid," applied for warrants for' per- jury against Pendle, JoeBryant; and^Sam John- son, which were at once' granted, and < placedUn the hands of experienced'detectives for their exe- cution. Fate saved the officers some trouble. > Joe Bryant, whose curiosity HadUed himiintb \ the vi cini ty of the court; was captured* jùst: ou £ side the doors, and* terror-stricken'' at the penal- ties he was exposed to; volunteered, if he was » allowed tb turn queen's evidence,До confess the whole business. As the punishment of the inferior instruments was a secondary consideration; the arrangement' was agreed to, and Joe [ at once; made a clean breast of the matfeiv The revelation He made, at which the Home Secretary was "present, of the crimes committed by him, under Pendle's instructions, were so as- tounding tliat4 all who listened to-his'' confession felt the deepest indignation that such villany could exist. His confession^ -completely confirmed the evi- dence of Oscar's friends, and procured his libera- tion on the following morning. When asked as to the whereabouts of Johnson, his fellow perjurer, Bryant answered unhesita- tingly that he could point out the very spot on which they could find him. "In what neighbourhoodÎ" asked the de- tective. tlWhitechapel," was the coôï reply; "in' the churchyard, seven feet deep," you. will find him. He'wón't rürt away." Ajs to ^eridJe'fi present abode, hc:pro'fcssed, and with" truth, his entire 'ignorance. li'He trusts rio one," said he. "I have done business with him in Marylebone Lane, but he has other places that arc only known to those who reside- there. Hattbn is his chief confidant, and all he knows of Pendle's movements is very little;'* ít was, decided to search the house in Mary- lebone Ikne; and Oscar, attended by a small party;of officers*, proceeded there. After knocking for some considerable timé at - the.door, it was at last opened by Mrs. Liver- sidge;. who at the sight óf OScàr with the constables; was seized with such fear arid trem- bling, that she could scarcely reply to their" questions. Oscar reproached her bitterly for the treachery she had shown towards him and Cissy, which she endeavoured to" excuse by throwing the whole blame on Pendle's representations. She had not seen Pendle for three days, and she knew not where he was gone to, nor had she seen Cíááy since the night she brought her to London. s и All she could tell was that she had' been taken -! to London Bridge station by an old woman in Pendle's service. She concluded by saying that ßhe wished she \ \ was well out of the house, for during the tone j \ í she had been in it, and fór the'last "three days in ! л particular, she had been unablé to rest* for the I \ strange nóístís that pervaded the house, í Oscar's thoughts immediately recurred tö the owl's eyes, and desiring the policemen to follow j bim, he led thé way to Pendlc's private room, and pressing bac¿ the spring of the picture, 'ooked to see whether the occupant of the mys- erious chamber was still there. But the chamber was entirely dark, and he could not discern any object in it; but, as he was about to descend from the chair, a faint moan fell on his ear, and he determined upon finding the chamber and examining it tho- roughly. This was a work of some time, for the entrance had been artfully concealed. Several of the rooms on the floor were searched without success ; but almost as they were about to give up, one of the policemen, who had been much experienced in discovering- concealed places, pointed out a portion of-a wall in a dark corner" of a*room that scarcely corresponded with tlie rest; s A1 closer examination showed it'to be a painted iron door fitting most exactly, and the next minute a small stud was found, which, being pressed inwards, caused the door to swing open. A light was soon procured, and the party en-4 tered, and the sight that met their view was of- a most harrowing description. The room, the windows of which had< been built up, was entirely destitute of furniture,' and¡ smelt most foully. In one corner, stretched' on a heap of filthy straw, covered only with rags; was a human being, that could scarcely? be recognised- as- a woman, with a thick leather band around her waist, to which was attached a* chain that was fastened strongly to the wall; The party knelt beside her, »and asked-onefor two questions but she was evidently; Uncon- scious;; for only a few' moans1 issued from? her lips; ■' j Ohe of- the policemen- ran to summons Mrs; Liversidge, but that worthy làdy, "fearing, per- haps, that her liberty was in danger;, had taken her departure; so a messenger was despatched to the nearest workhouse for a litter. In the meantime, those who remained^ with the unfortunate had found the remains1 of a bottle of wine, and had forced a few drops down her1 throat, which had the effect of partly reviv- ing her,.for sheopened her eyes, and made an effort to spèak, but the word or so she uttered was so low that it failed to reach the ears of the listeners. The litter soon arrived, and, stripping Pendle's bed of the sheets, they wrapped the released prisoner in them, send carried her down [the stairs, Oscar sending, by one of the bearers, ä note to the master, requesting ihat every effort' might be made to restore the womalr to herself, and promising tö defray* anyexpetísé that migbtf be incurred! Then they returned' to thd roonv to make' a 'further search. ïn the opposite corner to that the woman occupied, another chain and leather belt was found, showing that a second' victim had once tenanted the chamber, and from d crevice in the boards, the policeman' pullcd'forth a dirty sheet of paper, on which was written in thick red"] characters these words" :— "Father, Pendle is murdering me. Come and: save your daughter. « Maey.v "That has been written iri blood;" said the policeman. k And it was true. It was a relic, and the only one ever dis** covered, of old Nixon's unhappy daughter. From this cell the officers proceeded1 tb Pendle's private room, and too&'possession' of all (the papers and. dbcument^ they could1 find, .among which Oscar recognised the'parcel tied1 round with Barbara's ribbon, which he1 claimed as his" property, having beeii stolen* by Pendle from Linden Lodge. The other rooms also underwent á strict [scrutiny, but nothing* of any" importance was discovered, and they" adjourned to the basement of the house to complète the search ï and here a sight awaited them that sickened and horrified the party. From a kind of stone scullery, a door opened ! leading down a flight of steps to an underground cellar. Lying in a confused mass almost in the centre were four bodies, three of them almost resem- bling mummies, while the forth was in an ad- vanced stage of decomposition, Two, by the long hair and rags of dress, were seen to be females; and a cry escaped Oscar as he recognised in the topmost body the fast- decaying features of old Nixon. Horror-stricken and faint, our hero left the cellar, and, rushing upstairs, darted out of the house; his terror for the fate of Cissy in the hands of such a monster almost driving him from his senses. Heedless of where he was going he ran on» and as he reached the corner of the lane, felt his arm seized from behind, and turning round; found himself in the friendly grasp of the great- grandson of Tippoo Saib, the illustrious Enoch Muggeridge. CHAPÏER XXVIIL THE CLUB POUND. Afteu giving his warm congratulations to Oscar on- his escape from his (Pendle's) machinations, Muggeridge noticed the despondency on his friend's countenance, and eagerly inquired its cause, and' by degrees drew from Oscar a full account of all tliat: had occurred since they were separated at' Brighton, winding up by stating the-distress'of mind he felt at knowing that -Cissy wás in* tlie power' of Pendle without his being able tb* ascertain the direction in which he -might' proceed to search for her. ■ ^ MUggeridge;who felt' really a deep sympathy for his fricndrbègged hinvto describe minutely• tlie appearance of; Cissy; ..after which he flapped', hirhands, and! said—- . ■<' ¡/ *< Wcll^ we mustn't^ say die yetw If it: is the* 8áme4RÍrlí I> think Г know where to find'Her, aud i •most1 likely the'old-villain;too.1. But we must be • very cautious, or he will'take-tlie alarm; Let us take a stroll in the park,. and1 f.will* tell' you j my adventure." \: ^; 4 \ They entered the park, and¡ soon * réácliing a? retired spot, Muggeridge commenced 'his narra- tive, of which the following is the substance. Finding the exhibition business a failure, after the loss of Oscar, he had tried several "dodges," as he termed them, to keep his sails full of wind, and at last turned quack doctor, bought a horse and gig, and, with his attendant, drove round the country in search of invalids. The horse was trotting gently along a lane near Rinchelsea, and Mr. Muggeridge was ad- miring the country. . *. -' An old-fashioned mansion attracted his notice^ and he took the glass and looked:at-it. 1. -; : At one of the windows' lid*saw üiü face of?' a? young girl that riveted him1 by'hor* beauty, and induced him to desire a-closer vievV'of her, and with that view he drove* up to the gate" óf the rhouse, hoping by the announcement thát^he1 had articles for ladies' toilettes to dispose of* to obtain an interview with her. In this he was disappointed;.for the janitor at the gate not only threatened him with violence, but denied-that any young lady was in the- house. , t .V - !" There is mystery here," thought Muggeridge^ F" I'll try and' sift1 it."' '. . ■. So Muggeridge drove into Binclielsea, and put? up atthcinn opposi'te'the old church. Always talkative; and finding no company ш 'the parlour, he went into ihe tap-room, where he- found four or five labouring' men enjoying: their ale and chatting.about; the little world contained ;in the village. Muggeridge treated the company to some ale, !and, entering'into conversation with! them, soon- introduced the subject of the old house, which'. he found was called Beaulïcu Place, and that ie was a subject of much wonder and speculation among'the population of the-village, not oric of' whom had evbr been allowed'to enter there". : t( Hold hard," said a tall, thin old man; with white* hair and ruddy5 checks, who sat" in the corner, toying with a Waterloo medal he wore on his breast, and whose sharp, twinkling eves glistened curiously, "Pve been: in that place, and can go in -whenever I like." "Gammon," cried a voice, at which they all |,laüghcd. "No gammon at -all," replied the old soldiery u I can go and sec the inside of that house when Í' please." The soldier turned tof Muggeridge and said¿ "You don't understand the secret, sir; There's* "A LH.иг wat гиочткка AS'n пи pají'iv ûm'i;!;!:!?:' something p¡ín^ on i- that baa^' ая ain't quae «..¡iiúri!» ТК'-мЛч тсы y t<> b«* nnid<- '«ut. of that '* Г il keep your secret, my good man,*' said I Mu^v.ridge, now ftbly ;«viiw! and dc-',-fЛу ¡ íoawa Yeabil ?гр in 1p*f than íi тпг-rîfn I ««hall ; апжточя about the matter, make a lump oí money asid mate my p.cmhn j "Vrtry w<»llf it's agreed, then," said the oM look mighty small by the aide oí iL" j pensioner. 111 muet'you down un ike beach at lie* old man got uo and adt the hou>e, and! ten oebek, just b<4iiin! ;bu eou<-:;uard hor,>.e." Mr^rririßp, hfa ruriîvîty inflamed by wimi hi-1 Muggerhlgc wa-ч punctual to the hour, and had heard, followed him, and nî límale*! y» by fh- ; fourni thr pensioner waiting for bim. miluencu oí a cuupie of suvereí^u^, insinuated ¡ They walked along the beach till tbev lei't the hinnself into tin; «ddicr's confidence, ;]• VoJ part and mHied the elifïa, which ro»e up ** When Î wn* .1 ynnr- hm. about twr-wy,** he ] aina?M petapendkadar. paid, •* before I on (M H, í was а wnncrsrîet*. i и Stop heree' said the pensioner, as they рп- Many а 1ои <»' .»pinbs I luve earned ou my back i i' red á borrow rUsure, *♦ I'll ii^ui tía: botera. ûp tío gb'íi. SYv uwd to hule our слгр.сн away It won't bf seen íooo the bunch.'* in а гатя, and ihar oavo rnns imñVrneatb ÏVau-! Wb-n too lantern wa.« aJijrhi, Mн^тМ»- saw îioo Phii-eo It ь an '-Id Inuidlna», but itV been altered by itot man who boudil it.: but, the „hl beî'iîio^ e-neo e,oiotuшorated wdh the caw, 1 w.-ut IrOo the old eaw, litt"'' while a lío, and ^'•et lu the cad where I eould »ee int.*. !и'-оно, Th(• b 'vVitv <í;j;¡'; ld«" í'»íIí<'i .do-.;. 'ГЬп n*-*xt d*ty I went info the г aw hv davboht, aod( í,:.,^' < 'Ï ro.e/ii ibe. 1н,Ьч P we,* id,.' Si'.d.- ifoj iidu л room like ymi n«ad of in Пи- ArnHnn Nichts. Tboro's а иное, the master e1 iholioo'oo with wh.ï'd- hair, and a, o*ci faee, :md dloo-p eyes, ae i i:> <.d!'<•'• - лГ.и'л**; b(,w iiiany wie ^ be'n dad; led i*v;; .-.о ;i :Tr«rd many ddbe-eni îadïe.s tbe'C. bvo 'a!' iaodioii-e-;. t b,<1 !a:0 :,; ,;-;/!, fbao b-de o a ív' no!; thai ifie oearrow «ailraiov; had led theo* into a | pas-age about ten íeet high, and ulnjui the .^aaie' witiiie; , ll'O'j jnvM'*.ed<4Î ba* *omo di?ta!0;e, ih«o"r iveie 1 thr-; 1aknof Инее» alternat»dy throu^îi ieirr.»w ja*- ь'азге^ and sp^tcitms «*hawber^ tel.} ai. bt>i the *»U] pensioner .stopped and hold the Ianteiи up so that Muj.'jfriils,'!' Haw чоше i'<,e¡¿rli WMod«ai Meps ill U-nu{ .d fheioa "This is* the Fpnd, Иг, ímd nnw w*e/rc right and^r f»caob>-u Il-.es< . Yon яег> ti;ex.« sb-p-, Voti nmst. waîk up tiean and look üu'«aiyh the h*4i', ndiíeii you will eaaby h'ai." '^Íu;i^eild¿t" ei'epi up alidluoked ihreo-h. the hole, which'aîÛtoiïwer over Iter lu- dnaMÎ"ттыт tía- акаИапе- мГ two i-oîiî-table.-. and ab» to penad < 'apta!о Peeidottn to aeeonipany bon. Thme» goi towoher, a hasty гп'-al was dispatohvd. afa! or, arriving at beealoo Ib'.idg'- station, they f^und tb.eíiis(dveá in tine/ 1-е« a t'a,>t train ь, П':п<А\»\я-щ that v/а,- toi strnt a/oa.^t irnnj-dno.av. 'd He l Ma-M t ■d M; ¡a 1,- и f'ïlAPÎ'Klï XXIX. PÎ'NÎ,bt; ATTF..M 1"Гл то ím.a\ tíi ;; fart m- CL* ГШ. 9r; Jborníng o,f tbo sîuïhï day :ip]ro;nteo íM ТОМ LESTER i *;*м»к. that -vzv her"» hud soma <"^i't:'v i.j ^•.bng Lim into the boat. **Нсатсп Ыенк you!" lie faintly ejaculated, arai then sank ûmxn ь< the bottom <>f tlw- boat, where Ы laid m*4.itir,I»'ßf!, aud apparently lifejess until Tom had wnvwi back it* th*î yacht. Dirk had bri'L ibv h< !pio-*, condition of ibo tdapwroekTi *mm from íiii ро;«л am at the wheel, ami hastened to prepare a n»jw to uasist in líítínir him aboard the yaohr. As Suva as Li* wa.- ea board, nu-i be b» .at S tad 'Ven «ecured under the ^VYh ,,f \\]v Tum. brought a fkish of brandy, which happened to i], t\u. ,»,:>,.,:t„ ami рм/< 'tilo the sirau'v^ îrinuîb. < Tlie potenl s' mmimh re>h vbal powers u и - í :k< и í m i u'< »Wo fía- «uiltin, iMi:.-v-..J ib* c¡ 'pUiraíeb svüh s-n -л .m: a Huítb цтп/ Ну 'l*<-*d b¡S íiaau'baí 'b'd* carriel bmi ,!Whíeh WojV i'»'".•''■■> him in a !-b Kjíih la ок-.-е! "ь,hs ami h-,:'•:i i,, umnneo i" wat oh ;ю/ i»-:': iblíl a!< Ma>íor Tom Г* in- *s fixed upon the cou FMi; til I we h a va- ri; il íutus.s iiís yack to the westward Г iiiggesfed Dick» Vet I think/* ob.' l Г y it. 1 Чек. У oí; •41 y I к: i} > I will .si Ii;/; ) stood al the wînal ,** sabana, tmtj! a»- 'ívíiij.' (bai the dis- н was hier«-ad ni?, t. the yacht laul m <í ; As *<ь<п u< Um kí earner wax bull down—thaï "a\ when only h- î masi> and bane bs '.wn; vl.-qbii- t írom ib** yacbt —"jbíti H,'t tin,: hb>~ a-/ai и, a,*» a 'prelimbuny ío ?l¡f i/Xivut¡n!¡ oí :he, manua*vre í sumra-jieb by Ь;к eompmdou. ¡ ** <> t « Vrrj ,4î;j«*b/ МгЫ«Ч T'./îl :" "r.c-b'Ün.i-i , Oíi'k. lu" < ".••! :»•i ', si ¡ í.j-г.-1 o-ií bs г |'|;гшег *'пщ'лг. •Mlo-.v :b',<' shrinks ;íb/CLf !"* sab! Ton;, br - wab Ь'-чЬ wi«b ^rratílb"! tro !:¡;o <-í w Iii»- ■ b;;tí!'¡ whh'i; tía: ^arlít Ubi ía h-'i' аак,.- чЬ«- 'l.f^-.bi bver tho í¡,;ii >\\> "N' 'v. b V -, sV;! ; a ji{ b,- wmrl í» i v, .;; s bv< a , ':A}-%''a M.í^o r T-;,," 1 Jri./k, ,T'l!;, , "1 fiad lia a tai bad, my lad/1 be птЛн.ч! te Oer hi'.roks (jia>tio!i as to bow be felt, ,k Not so cold' muí dead-like as I felt while drift if ig through tb" storm upon that пюгйс! of the ship/* he cou- ííouod, with a i4iud¡^ not." rejoined Tom: u wc have not na:.,«b abo;',rb in the way <ie with me; and, if I drop olí h.-fo:r* you wdl lüid bi.metiiiïjo in ray p«xtk«'i:-book that will. Some day, make you ^-fare! *• Never nbad thai," .-aid Toni; "yon will be ad riirbf in :í day or fwe, ! bope/' L:\:l:*' >íiij> <^ "bi; hfarbuarrl bow, Masua То:» k' ¡.lio^rd Dick, Tom eMUe'bi up bis it-Íe«¡A»jK\ and in aiiotlier momoni w;i'-' b>'>kiiii: thnai^h it at the ship, which ^\as bearing towards the yacht under -л po>s of rt;ib- - Why, b Ь beat eo<î.!'.«;:ndcd steamer uabor seal \" ho 'iabocd, "í .-na sei« lita fuimeb." *• She caa'i '/■■": us yol, Mítsícr Тот," rejoined hb<*k, w-*1l сгаек"от; a Iíít. Ioii^.t ; ami if s)m i'.cü.-.s r,h к-'!' a il beeile !_a:l <(ari<. well taie- \crvUdn;r, .,nd ïVihl ím„vÍ'í*c îbc wind Ulider ni :bj: Te< ¡: îïnb lito ad\ •-..kbîe tkni Üb \ i:rio/{ от. _ arsd il towards 202 И 1. 18*0. BOYS OF ENGLAND. The yacht had crossed the steamer's course before the distance between them had dimi- nished so much as to suggest the advisability of furling her large sails, and hauling down the jibs; and, as the gloom of evening was now beginning to settle upon tho sea, the chances of escape were even greater than at first. On again entering the cabin to minister to tho wants of the stranger he had picked up from the wreck, Tom found him apparently in the same condition as before, "How are you now?" said he, regarding him with a look of anxiety and solicitude. *' I am going, my lad/' the old man replied, in a faint voice. "I am-very thankful for what you have done for me, but you cannot save me." "Have you any relations I can write to for you?" inquired'Tom. "None that know or care anything about me," replied the old man. "The only friend I had was tlie gold I had in that ship, and which has gone to the bottom of the sea after I had toiled so hard for it on the other side of the globe, and had got so near England with it." "You were homeward bound from Australia, then?" observed Tom. "Yes; from Port Philip," he replied. "Tho ship laboured heavily in the gale, and was strained before the mainmast went. Then she broke up, and became a total wreck. In a moment my gold was sinking to1 the bottom as if it had been stones, and Г was tossing up and down on the great waves* clinging to a fragment of the wreck for life. Г saved nothing but the clothes I liad orí, and a pocket-book which you will find in my trousers, and which Ï bequeath to you, and beg you to take charge of at once." Tom drew an old red pockct-boolc from4 the repository mentioned by the ,old mam- "That is it!" exclaimed the stranger,: survey-- ing it with a look of mournful interests "I am not strong enough to explain its valuer but;.if you study what you will find in it, and make use of the result, it will prove a legacy that a richer man would be glad to receive." "Thanks, my friend," responded Tom, con- signing the shabby-looking bequest to his jacket pocket. "Thé steamer has changed her course, Master Tom, and is bearing down upon us full sail!" exclaimed Dick at thát montent* Tom rushed out óf the, cabin at this- alarming intimation, and saw the* truth., of the young sailor's-' announcement. CHAPTER V* Д CATASTROPHE. "ТяеГ must have seen us/' exclaimed; Tom, as he gazed at the appröaehing' steamer with dismay impressed* upon every feature of his handsome countenance. "There is nothing for us now but to crack on, and try to give them the; slty under cover of - the night," ^Aye, aye> Master Tom," responded Dick* rmm'to'g forward* Thé jtoS w'ere hauled Щ and the mainsail ánd topsail' slioc-te out, arid again the "Petrel" dashed like à thing of life over the darkening waters, Fixât-äs s-hö^dashed over the waves, however, the larger vessel that appeared to be chasing her gradually gaiiied upon her, the extent of her canvas being commensurate with her greater bulk,-whilst1 the advantage of length as a con- dition of sï>eed iri a ship is' well known. Slowly, but surely, äs night came on, the steamer,, without the aid of her auxiliary screw, drew nearer' antl nearer to the flying yacht. "I wish I could' see her figure-head," ex- claimed. Tom, as he sti-ained his eyes into the darkn'ess Without being able to discern it. "But what is the use? She must be the 'Boadicea,' or she would not be chasing us,, as that con- founded Ship is evidcntly'doing." "Sloop, ahoy !" now reached their ears', borne to them on the breeze from the speaking-trumpet of the steamer's commander. "Hollo Í" shouted Tom, through a similar sound-conductor. "What sloop is that ?" bawled the captain of: the steamer. take you home.1' "Very well, Captain Bowler," rejoined Tom. "Put" me on board a vessel bound for England, of wliich there are, probably, several in the bay; andtó'y uncle, wlio is so anxious for my return, will'riot? refuse to pay for my passage." Cantain Bowler bit his lip at this suggestion, and turned away. ''Will you think of it, Captain Bowler Î" in- quired Tom. "No," said the captain, sharply. "Your guardian's instructions were that you should" go the voyage with me, and the voyage you will go" "You have no right to" detain me I" exclaimed our hero. "I have accused you before your officers and crew of tlie:murder of the old man who was on board the ' Petrel * when you ran her down/and if you-refuse-me the opportunity of repeating the charge before a magistrate it can:only be because you are afraid of the'con- sequences?' The captain's brow darkened at this bold speech; and his'rage would nofrfor some mo-" ments álíbw him to speak. "I shall'tell- on liim if I am sent ashore with- out" you, ♦Master Tom," observed Dick. "Knock the mutinous rascals down !" exclaimed Captain* Bowler, calling to the chief officer in a voice hoarse with rage. "You forget that the lads- are not on the « Boadicea s" books,' Captain Bowler1," returned the mate. "Am I to be bearded like this ori my own deck Г exclaimed the furious: captain. "Bear a hand there, some of you fellows, and put' those impertinent young rascals in the hold." The knot of sailors whom he addressed looked at each other, and then at the chief officer, but did not attempt to place ahartd upon either our hero or his companion in adversity. "Do you hear?" exclaimed Captain Bowler, stamping his foot furiously. "You, Jöhnsori, and Boyd; Seize the rascals, and put them in the hold! If they resist, they shall have a dozen pounds of-iron upon their legs." Disobedience of orders is regarded on board ßbip as an offence so serious that Johnson and &oyd, on being called to by name, dared not refuse to execute the captain's commands or even' *o exhibit any unwillingness to do so. Tom and Dick were seized immediately. "Do not resist, Dick," said Tom, "the vilain would only make it the pretence for ill- usage," Resistance would indeed have been uslcss, and the lads acted prudently in descending quietly into the hold. "This is pleasant," said'Tbm, as the men closed the hatchway and left them' in total darkness; "our only chance how will to be to Watch for an opportunity of escapi'rig by stealth.'*' The hold of a ship does ,not afford very1 agree- able quarters, the atmosphere being close and damp, and impregnated with the fetid odour of bilge water; Whilst iii a loaded merchantman it is' impossible to turn without coming in cöntact with the cargo, which, in the case of the "Boa- ; dlcea," did not happen to consist of anything more I offensive than bales of Manchester goods and crates of hardware. In this dismal place our hero and his com- panion were kept without food until the fol- lowing morning, when one of the Seamen, who had placed them in durance, brought therû the usual ration of coffee arid biscuit. "How long are we to be kept lierc?*' inquired Dick, whese brown face had assumed a lugubrious expression. "Till we put to sc'á' again, I expect,1* replied the sailor ; "leastways, I heard the'skipper say as much to Mr. Sinclair last night." "Captain Bowler will only make it hotter for himself when I do get away!" observed Tom. f i Well, I must say that the thing looks queer," rejoined the sailor ; "but it isn't for a man before the mast liko me to say anything about it ; for >ír. Sinclair got nothing for putting* in a word íií your favour, but a threat that he should not .sail in this ship again;"*" The man left them^to eat" their hard biscuit in darkness; but the meal was scarcely finished before the hatches were removed for the stowage of the water whicti-was being brought alongside the ship. "Now, Dick," saitfour hero, in a whisper, " do as you see me do, and, perhaps, we shall get away." The young prisoners sat quietly for some time in the semi-obscurity of the corner in which they had established themselves; and then Tom, watching for his opportunity, crept towards the light that streamed down from above. Dick followed. The sailors who had been engaged in the hold had ascended, and had left the hatchway open, with a rope hanging within reach. Grasping this with both hands, Tom- made his way up it, hand over hand, with a dexterity which he had acquired in a school gymnasium, and found of practical value aboard' the "Boadicea." The sailors who were on the deck" did not attempt to restrain them; and they were soon over the sitie' áUct Ш a b'arge^ which a couple of half-naked Hotkirtots1 wcre';jitst pushing off. Tom showed the1 sable boatmen a fcw! shillings —all the июпеу he had—and pointed to the shore. A gesters showed him that'he was understood, and ш| men' began td use their long oars with a will* test at that' moment; the second mate looted wist the side arid made sigrls to them in I a peremptory manner to1 fmt back. I The Hottentots hesitated} and Tom and Dick' availed of their irresolution* to seize the oars and' pull Vigorously away from the ship: The next moment Captáiñ Bowler appeared, gesticulating furiously; and in a few minutes the second matö and four sailors put off in a boat. A few moments' sharp work at1 the oars sufficed to put the boat alongside the heavy and slow- moving barge., The mate sprang' aboard the- barge, and was received with a blow fronrtheoär held, by Tom, which knocked him backwards into the sea. The Hottentots deemed it prudent to side with the strongest, however; arid they seized Dick as he was endeavouring'to push the boat away-, and held him by the arms. Two of the sailors then sprang aboard- the barge and seized our hero, whom they deprived of the oar; and; after tying his arms behind him with a stout cord, handed him into the boat. The mate scrambled into the boat at the same1 moment, spluttering, and swearing, and drenched to the skin. "You shall smart for this," said he, shaking his clenched hand menacingly in our hero's face. "I struck in self-defence, Mr. Oliver," returned Tom. "If you make yourself the accomplice of a murderer, you have no right to complain of the consequences." Dick was handed into the boat, secured in the same manner as our hero, and then the two sailors who had boarded the barge followed, and the boat was pulled towards the ship. Captain Bowler received the two lads with a volley of abuse, to which Tom did not deign a reply, and then they were lowered into the hold, and left, with their arms bound, until the cven- ; ing, when a sailor brought them their rations and unbound them. Another night was passed in the foul air of the hold without room tö lie down, and with planks beneath them, anda bale of merchandize to lean against. "Come up!" was called down the hatchway on the following morning, and on pulling them- selves up to the deck, they saw the mountains around Table Bay becoming blue by distance as the "Boadicea," with all her sails set to the favouring breeze, proceeded on her voyage. CHAPTEE VII. A GALE IK THE MOZAMBIQUE CHANNEL. Nothing deserving record occurred'' until early on' tlic morning of the second day after the vessel entered the long and wide channel be- tween the mainland arid the island' of Mada- gáscári: - ;; Mr. Sinclair, thc: chief officer, was watching, with some anxiety, a black cloud which Was rising upon'the southern horizon, and spreading rapidly across the sky. "Furl the top-gallants !" cried the chief officer^ in a loud,- ringing voice. The men sprang into the shrouds, and ascended the ratlines with the agility of monkeys ; but, before they could reach the yards a loud, sharp snap was heard;1 and the mizen top-gallant sail was flying in tatters before the wind. "That is a fine way of expending canvas to-- ruin the owners, Mr. Sinclair," exclaimed' Captain Bowleg rushing from the cabin at; the- noise,- and availing himself of the excuse for abusing' Sinclair,' by way of venting^ hiá resent- ment' 'of the cbfef officer's remonstrances on- behalf 'of our herb; "It could not'be helped, sir^" returned Sinclair, "What" are you about, up ■ there?" roared the captain* turning1 his ill humour upon the men aloft. "Quick, you lubbers! Double reef- top- sails! Haul down the'j ibs 1" Sinclair walked aft at this interference with (his duties, and abstained from giving any further orders. "What is that flying about on the ' mizen top- gallant yard?" thundered Captain Bowler. "Here, you Tom Lester, run aloft and secure- that-brace;" * The task assigned to Tom Lester, a youth who was makittghis first voyage out of sight' of* thé shores of England,; was; therefore, ari arduous and dangerous oñé. Endowed by nature with a bold hearty and: with equal agility and strength, he did riot,, however, shrink from attempting its perform- ance. Nimbly ascending the mizenishroud, on the- side indicated by the captain, .he crept oiit upon the topgallant yard, and in spitb of the severity of the gale, succeeded in reaching the'extremity of thé arm. The captain was about to make an; angry remark, when a sudden movement on the part of Sinclair, who was anxiously watching our' heró as he leaned out upon the yard, caused him to- look'upward. Tom had lost his hold on leaning forward^ and the next moment was falling" head foremost from his perilous position. Had he fallen upon thd deck, he would pro- bably have been killed" on the spot ; but at that moment the ship was turned over so much to that'side, that her yard-arms overhung the* sea; into which oui1 hero fell with a loud splash. (To be continued. Commenced in No. 16!).) L'04 BOYS OF ENGLAND. ÏKtlE STORIES OF BOYISH BRAVERY.1 -n,«.-..f tbua-w »ъ» ■■uí wnh thHr bi»*ad ; *,r, if i bey <*;s ' >:Ь 'vdl; V ! 11, • * 'j ;: » 'i I ! К ;лт. A vr f '■\V Л ■/ it: IV, m , ompi '* Aivv, d-va Í f.", « im :<••> Л ; ;* í tf any ona 'Inn', lino t Ь^у af *\ bhoitf j.h'.'íW.' u Imn tb \ Í: ,'.«■ f!v,'»'-i\." nie "and l ! и ; i r bread, and 111 ; l 1 bay «trink wild« "Î р;" bread 'г < > f-ai 1м oí ir who 5- Ьп:ааГ)П aad ha\v ph'aaiíd ';>i>T Ь f. drink to o!;í; una< is !h i a-: N V nb-n hnmtob vrai'H ;»! h r X 'Ma'v bV:d <>L>- ri-.-íss-íi; ;t l'V m'dm,. ihvl, and who wíb iba prívale oon-.n.ary :¡ni»:í. íl¡ í ".<* íu!':!' >■}> Vidua HS Web'h :hn Ahmphty alneord hin. = !,n min of sevrai e;n a' Ч :•».♦• and- г the M'mboî oí i :»nd î-nai.nT frvm t draU: ad Edward 1b t, baa j j a'*-'.'- i /jj »4 fb nry I V., are tur ¡a i-t pheade;! %- tmdm>u« ri'j.jvs.'üi . »î"aum/'iits oí middle a"e, and the pa a! q;;any j bi :Ь'Ъ Гуп.;^ i;niír-(I 'ín \ tvm whîrîi aîï future h?-lorian* »«Г f ftt -î í ÎNji-hi*,,., V/';; "i» Ьз< n-'iord i'înbra*'*"-, have ¡Irawío 1 a- ;iï. !V4 < г t,, a b<-ar \vj;h i Л f »í«-f ur«' whifh !и- *rí*o-- oí t hr, S"< 4ríi, b« che í U'?,-a -,;h. t<> whírii it was >a«à, ' -'fîXi 'Mmp;u-,'íí wbbrh 'й-; r<-vul iiia.-a^: omuví<'.í • ai*.'' îb^ïi;* ;(¡*t íbui btr'ly mec, Î4 :..,ih:iV para ¡ha j a.j-io uí f aîi íL-r K;isft or, i{ íf ' 1" *bf iatter linrnmenr,« nf that, wbH¡ wo havr-i Híp _c h," wh-.-n í»<- pcnHÍMr-,.1 íh«. i rorîrixIîa".,'«H!*om Х<:м.a Ja'mV "< 'у:. ;r .од;,", г.* oiíi'v, ;',Vb-r ih< ir !; baj wo <:аало fh.> par?П'* ^î*î«-r рер-мпч oïï borse- Ь.'м-к wiîb him, ta í ak'* ¡\ur" oí Ijíjíj ia th**, ragged parís of the m;try, nn^ in fa^'*- any beasts of ! h" íh vi er kjîab' hh-< îM -h- ov f îi'MS'-^hva, T'ht-'й**; ïîdnpf^d all pri^.iiiiti'>rîb' to rwtraiii Ms »лМ- woïiuiiiiih iiiiraiiyiio's wilii m*ь:к ilci'ereiice р1*шц J Haî.^ >..«.ü as h«' mw í^yi;Uí haip fori h, "m- V !'jîv'.v loi иачу ta i h. a t. ibir îsîaay SniiHi h'haaî ana- as í<»r t-ho íííi.:i:l 'Io.vi;i,i" Tl p:oí;"a!ar a- t- ¡ î \"'V ?aa,,i < 'г гач, i; a'! t;o^ • arative Jaws >lt¡ thaï, t? fa.s } a a,a:o ?«k < '\ ro^ -, taîû'.a lia- ю.аФи fit y ■ î Гаоа/Ьо, aaa thaï! in ihetnHaf whioii la* ,,fra!ît*"0 iaoDifor Ihtïir 34*1 mn \ îa- J a,ia,-a, aokaawai'^iyv-! that la- haai ref rvia-- • lo the s af!ar haar | captiví:y} < 'yraa- ¡^aalka m H«*riptur<-tînt rcliaaaa- ¡ S'-rvaní. ai* ,I«aaa,aaa, and tho Hhcphai:?! oí* Isrur!. , Ш- ' pí ааЛ'н! aa; !<-!' Wa:- la; I'HIlíib 'i !V a p"a«*t- , tai haaUi, k.íh * '« About я huía i л! a*aî t :«¡rty ycar« laier, X« a<- ( phon, an Atliaaiiaa general, tonk ^rvíce with j ten thuaKiml oí his jV!I«a,v e« a,. > ïiHiooi4ai-y ош1аг araJJier < 'yras. I X<*iiop'h t ^//f'f ^ í .'títraafirc of them thai i г'//1 /^ф "¡ , ;'í .'J ^.>"X^a|f < "Го In . oiUir..¿<"a. {.'ointiaa^oj ¡u No. i'«a h.ips па' nur,-',, ¡iar.f'uvc ai uh*;sí а«э ио«а / fi ;< In which, in m materials íu'e pi« uî laarn» -ake of ¡t'w own mililary 'чп- ployoia Fixai! h;^ aceutmt of tlie youth «»f Vyrus we eitniH t!j.- fohowiîîa/ partKailars. tía» follow in,.a vdiîeh is liî^niîly translatai from the íe.sf oí Xf п-^Ьа;. ^> that nothing of the Koltla r-iik" ua««ar «4 íh*' orp„hnai natv la-, i.îrst his youthful' «:< anj'-nubaîs aaaí - j î "„ -! îo :h- m- "l'a^s 4vhai. v< ry íj w a. v;e when we liiiiiicd tiie bü¿¿8ts the park î Ii ъантъ tu me tb«* чти: и* if we laad hurtad animals lied by !а a h'p;; htr, fîï-i, f a» y voa о Vvl'hiii a îaaii'-a«»' еатрану oí grouiaî: th"U, the creatures were ham, înafa/y ila'aa"': one wa* lame, another riaiinjeea,îïtmîas end plains, how fine, how iaiye, and h<-w sleek iid they appeal*! rí1ie stags, ;v< if they had- wings, h-apeo1 to th" very ^ky: i ha Ьоагн, ¡i* \ hey §ÄJ brave men do, came to chase «piarters; and, by reason of their bulk, it was imputrible to mi» 1 Uten» These, even wben they are dead, appear ! ^' ше ôïa r than íhofe other wuh"d-up ori.;atur.-> ,-»--3^; , when alive.** Hiél was tire fine, mettlesome* am! ira ¡y joJLj imotti П) HT It A IT OF С Y К Г S Til К «ЛСКАТ. I THE COMPASS PLANT. 'i \ t!it: wt;;*tern рпипан «-f t;a« thatt'd Ftat<»- lla-rn Thus il^K's old Froï.,iirt deseaâbe îho SCors fll ! rrewa a plant whieh i» яош,»дте, of -i^it vain, fo , ilia w;anî»aa,T in these tt-аекканд ragaaa-i. It i/ row h losJ, dchvrihe^ Паа i»,u^h and hardy training to j one, of their raids arrows tm Border a— ^ r in the bdght of from tbrae v> si?: feet, and ha- a wtdehh'yrijs hthj hi^ youthful companion* w+*re I *' They carry with, them ma provisions of bread \ )lc.a(| f)f yellow flowers somewhat rasaaiblin^ лаг subjected ere thev hiuiattaiii^i m<.< agf: of twdve ! or wine," Ьл> Xhvk habitx of mbtk-xy atv such in ¡ bavrkwcÄ t. ^.^^ , v ;iiaia of war that they wdi hv..- ior a bin tinn- , Tía: peenla.r help it г.чн\-п to 1 na «aad-rei ariv- ■ ;;'-> - —- - - i asa^aaaaa: 'л,л, ,,:asïï ää-s ï; i ;î » i;a ^a »i 'h-sk¡iís, afl*-t they bave, tako-a tham ad!; ami,; л8(.;.т; orefal-.bsarv^r., fr.iif-liai; thi., i. the brin;,r .-aia« to find plenty of them in tie- mmitry; (yx , , bur h ha- h , ,« e,a4b.,t dá, о-ЛИ-.Ь Ь«",чии whioîi Уту invade, tbeyacarry none with them, i f th,-, ptron^ iimrvw 'aapíav.-d oaae-dinrr it by *' Ldidcr the íhtpjí uf lb- sa Mh -aia/n uiuu | HUUC miihur-. 'лао ^av Lib»,t a w " a u;uídi' maa'riug e;»rri.«,« а Ьг« -,ч*1 piaf "f motad; behind i)m m me magnetic needle," etc. bañado и liitT«' bajr of oatmeab 1 A r;«e<-nt oks*,rver п'Ь'«-а in tb>- Jf»€ri««J#«»eI <• VVh-ft tla-ar ptomaoh app»(«w8 weak and empty J ^ Scknce^ fcbe result of an ехашЬгИаоп of a lar*e i r; feriad, and tha h ilea, ii« in War, V- ibvh laaader, banting himM'ii. and seeing that otlai'- da so; Ь<"'аам> it *" ae- *a fJa m d • ne 1 ha most, of!hnV5p oa»aad;.H for a!l saa'i thinysaK relate to War, '* It aafusfean," Üaa'íi ía> nve early iu th<' tiiorn- Hiie aral t,. lo-ur heal a,nd eo!d м < ^ Uaan hi hn,pi mareiiC'- and in галп/Ьа: ; it, wee.-dUte* íh^'í'í í" е-" Ida о- bow ae-ama, th". ьеа-î. Uml they !huiî; aîid lo ibro'W their ia,ve:íiJ wia/revrr hdN na Ih* ir и av. - Ti "'И'ар' ainsi» af ne-v.'-íoby, no d!''K ;П- y phaaa (id's plato ovar lia bi,o o»nm d :n tn<' iooat, naaai any a,l tha ,dnn, .o,a-' ta- i; -.а*о"аа;, and wh»n. t'n-1 p-ia'a ¡s an I > a,.aa,Ma,;i baaas prasan? í iaaaia^eî v-ri. I h-ai- d ilea pat a bítíe oí lía,' pa-:a íij,*a( ií. ami ", w', Ft.r tie V ИИ!Ч « a,mí. tubimvv '.v¡:h tîm aninnn: and- ;, 4.{d.i% dka л аГа> мп' a» hj>eait,' I. ja* ne'- np f»» ïbem. und lüb-! h-aí-^a 1 :anr ¡ \», h- a h i hay ¡-at í-, warm tía ir ,чП am'a"íi'--. mix uaíf- ; î'nas,:-. rof ..; » (,;,,J(,,i-t < );í.- b dif o; í <;--¡." "' * '£t búm ifidna h,dí a p.„at of north, and tw-Hâboi a point." l'his curious plant is also called fclie pilot plat and from the quantity of resin which eiude- in a; n.n'dim h-d^nbo.dbí i: iaaatmo^aj -i; ,-И afora, Tj„ woadar 1*;чт ¡': my рогГаПа ; h' '~^ri r '.<^nn-"haavo . ,ti;. o.m^eed. ino what -.nenb' '.bmp, Ы' all thaï i,s piaurtî^'b in j a berror day's mareh than other ^d'taa's,'' | to return to Cyrus, his en î valiant and worthy use wî Wh.a, ;n„fm d,a;n"a, у an voir, ж nal fa if t'.aaat in hunt m<: »'Thi-y d" "il! to nanf provi.l.'.i with a dinm j srp'i' joV'a* d, ал bat ripb! ; anaí dan' ¡n' b ha.nl. p с *.vm,ai I»rata - bad aatan h.r * "< onnn .M n\'r n *» .— А у at da n< ач*Ь or ¡í -h " n "-■[¡"mí îînav t í r fa *" in a'? fin; pnanal to uaUhi foi _ A- У ä 1 ear rv,o,,o \ i a ' \ '.\ aai t » ! M' he Ititiit,^!hey gu^ upon this ^ ■ th'.- na>>a ;o" ,*h ;¡p.,t, i av. 1 í¡,a!. M"dd;a . г,. \, ааи d , '•'U ;- a-, о a ntanndaya t, lhr-í.| Iii)YS OF ENGLAND. THE iOYS 0Г EmikWÍ) SÏOBY TELLE?!. 14íi:nt!.kmkn' nrd'T if yon pirns* Г* exH:dnv*d <>îd Mr. Мо!> >aouín% а/ luMiütered the purbnr t';i the ;* Uun?erV 11-аЧ/г у/Ымг*- a 1*#uddiH(*u**i-îîç Olí, Why, y--r ho-nntxr, in? :iH through th;serebump- tiou» s;í'h<íl'hi;;i.~!vr," la-plied To« i'oiu. 14 That > rpkatd' mt<-M po-vd hVrp.-aaí 4m ¡ л. "What' Swisher !>eni d^ditip thou У"! *" VVhy, у'Т Le,мьг, Ь" pretends pv know all abo at the Kmt H herios throir'h rradmp them Ьоокн. !No r, it stand* to од*"п ihn t. v. е. who bave bcmi there kv-гл- m» -r. ib nit! he Ы d t haa ba" "i ¡itn it< t ,< •) et r.a h, T. .;n. Yty l liiuu' whuî V' 1, aaw—he knows what other peo píe saw, Hu w е- v er» J r,,.VC U î r^'ild li'Ti' wh< . ke* UtiW ill ЫЬ, '1!н1 is \VÍ!];ü«: {•.-. t'íU yon 4>m«"Tkir,rr ahoat 1С.Л *< Tbm, g--п.;." .-.'id ¿•■.ViaLcr. «Ч]еаП« or a. M Г <"аекаа a ît>-j;b'W of па]* ;-f«>Hi л Ыо tr.:«. '■■VcJiiii-r.'* Mr. rdaah ybav tilíi Xuelk'cálK'*» », 'sich b k.» Cal- cutta. &fy горце,;»; wa-4;rr;ti;U'd.a¡íd аЬчш. the lutter pa?* f,nst'}" t'.'av a*.a!, «'>ii arrjvia;;, 1 fon raí f)iVF.*4f Ix^at with o'-|«"dp.^ ekiniîf;staîïi\s which d-'Iayed m<; uatd tko itddiikMif Ma>% By tit i? time caairyiUr.£ bopm to be j-roínUírig, :'j(íí- "lie d; for him. w ^ dmibir;*tdtanml by the rareness o£ tlte i-iiiîy Ь'Г iad'a<#:j;^ any i'saäj ft-kiu^ durí • i ..",,r rsy пЬггат^'о fmrn^piom,., a,»ai by t.b • . oí roiiiuia.'«,- which '/ralik the att-Vctinni ïn ak lay ?afna«k I "fsad not yet bmnû a Га-1'î ia t v,'hi«*ii t«» ratify that martial ardour which i.-i a i юшки?.'*'- r-..fi)mon tu th«* generality «'»f thí'íe ar-ii wb«* havr t;t;v r îakv» activa j»art in an yaaay:- ía¡a¡r, '1Ь'П>, Ir-vv^vM-, my ink** if .îkrima» 'v/as ar r„:«o i'.«H.'«b and. taking advatîî;^** of it, I v< km leered !o accompany El-h-n to hk ^nmrnmi, he, on Ida part, readily proTalhbig me t'ac wulcoiau i.f hiV superior, Amakk.iky rr.y h-> !, - O' t ■ * J ooMi'' '■>)' а !'Г!Г""П1 ¡d гм-к»;,-. .;o> s> i •railed -л itk ray lVi"*nd in ч b.r.v da}« fur hi- . o- 'Ta;ani:d. ■ in dnn iw we reachefi brad-quartan, when ..«avíoe:- -a'íov i'Ti,'pt«'dt and I took ihr pa .nit ion ,».>.,r; ira,;>.»-r aid! fo (Аматч! il , »' К <"; -a . а,ч, k-r ídko'4. (ka üak.vi; a:.r' .:dy or"! w« -rk for n.)( kho a/b.,.a'v í/o.Oj or activa viilarfa l'oîîi'oïiaaa, 1 ar.'iatínfr ar i 'awapoor, or Cawapona bad carried ï I a ' í r inda-avrta'd cakos—which ar>> the :^ib'4itut.« lu haba í'.r ihv ПщЫньЛ " fifv-cro>r, tbroirjia.aí 't к • t-nta-«-'' aortii-Wf - 'o-rn j»r» aaiavw: fan Pnr.yta;/, raa! ahrio.it \\;v whob* kiv; îhorewa'. дгаг<-с;!г a aiîïvc rr;ai- ymíí of oar k-araf*y яиг<-.„>.ч'ai i v, ara! \v¡!a o¡!¡;¡, », íívky Httbk(.Ua-(;r. W'ú had ravtv reached tía* jua^lc, and oar gn-.a diiüouHif^ woie to be raDauiicfod era we i.aad traverse it, W. idu> ¡r-d imo th- horrible d^aa aad he'.'. ,r way, f.-r >ume díkfanee, without adv^mure, th»■ ar Ь.«г.н-.-:, whan, ]», ,k ¡da, up, we bka.dd a ¿*rou|> a^paivíalj petrilkd Da! i vor*. ki a few sriroi.d.H «e a-da-d, ami. wkrii,:; a !o к of L.-rror vrbad) ь\'ГУлЛ>Л On: oí Üe- рану, а о piar ■•■'Л b'-v-n:«: ka'îti. r t¡e w< ¡e .a u/1k • ad, who w., dohirípi ia'»--îf ir.!-., a ida- га^«-\v:oa h i* lail a>í idïka-titady a.- a comk ry м koohaa.-a^r eo-dd have draa< it, with a eat^arakíroaa We ?ooa fí'-vered oar i.orve. ;u;d, ltav¡rv 'had мам.- ♦•xperíiatar in This kind of .ipmbtpup 1 ,^Ь*]с-г'к »•akly *r« m iny horse, advanced fpdetly to ka.* S.;p-.>. a '* uro!, taking a a; ,4a-t bran the uarekskrir haad oí on о of rhrm, 1 Ca-- j - , ■■ > poaed ïiiy.seii for a shot m '\ "j , annripatioa oí the i !» M Meriaer, * 'ki-'i îiaaadr ,,f tbr p;. »*'«V''j'fe the air upwards with, a "oainuky dying motion, aan'l the bnfctoi on the end mi' the barrel covered the iok « y., oí Па- 1 J kkd *h<« triporer, ai к ar, * ars v cr<\ ainnaai- iaioaaly with the report, :! !"d wit !a aa unrari iay ia-al aad liar iioím* < Л jO'ikliig the precipítate ra¡ at of the natives as an i r. tí ration, the brute 1 he air on his spn a}-., о La!].a .îkna- The shot struck § lie "rose," and ed the blade of the 'ulder, i>a, iaa.II) at П- - ¡ « ;d w onia!; bat л»1 a, bering his fory ami his p strength into one mad ♦ fo •» p a a oone toward a a v, <, a a aari?aaf ,-ta"c ; -.i;: rash, or heave, that beggared description; and, as tie last of the sffltis floated away, h к hue an pry ta a. u* voa ■> glistening within twenty feet of my stand. I raised, my pistol, and pun f*vr the eye wifduw vas i sent thnÎHT with h m eoiamaiab I 31 y isa. ata! шуь-к* aK.vrd ^vtth thl-' arepv. I which aaci-i-asfidly encountered Nana isahib la thrun « pitrbo.'i baüb-,4, did vinp' him back on Bithoor, and ; ruaifdep bra army to disperae rapidly, ; Ida- rleparrnra frr.Tn the 8ер«>ум went aboar in the rb'iraefia* iaf pa* rida phmdrr-?,ta1 the ; < ntirr country, aati naide it evtr-meîy perd«;a^ for ; l'iaropeara^. \iub&» "m large numbe-rs, araiwdl armed. •! to travo! ra any devotion. Br* ak-al tbk Jara* jin'p»aa Семеек i(-r ki.¡: pka'- « d - Í /-„г aa» < '-a- My Li-î, Cíiaaoo wa- '-¡are,, a ra h with îho rapa daaper aloae kaak to tboe;rhr, i knew my bio o:di tm ita еоугно to tie- la-^t -.'СомЬ Hî.^ hot breath, as it «irana-d <>r*t wi?l» hia ,aa» pai>h'*d, enppoftd y< lia, wa.*. in my face, aad, in kao imkoeility of Л-«{гл;гч I kebbed my pi,»:,,,! ike a haaa-o dran«! fra\a At iia in^taat îa« d-aala-tl bun н-íi :ki a, la, A, pa**». a ooavalkv" beamd, n u'wh tased hi* at na> t ,iLoa;pti., ami Í ь-îr îaya-'k iaaicd, 'o^aae baeda <";a.4aai by the dec./ and v.ciphr,, oí tía: brm.a Л; I b "Л *b»-re ï-.ad -'оаа'кЛ iar',i, It 'л.'е bar la-t tldap' ! aotir.-ip v,aid'-r a frw moment**, 1 awoKe tu eojí.okaaHíaaes I l'.a;r-d kkbai slaaiwiap w,vi. r ra lav far.-, and ka» fr'« r eaarb.d drud in h:.< ;piv. Within iiirrr- d*.; of wh«'ro 1 lay. .Mv -.d'ety wa.4 owiio-? to KUl-m w!-.o had psr'o'd ap a'soc aad ;nГа- kvL dor pod by unrof kfa' i; ;j.i'* ae-d drliver» d a beautiful id..4, wláv.h eae^nt ka; baje i:> da П da

'П under ту ¡kaaa Г- .daa, aad piva.p 206 [March 1,1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. ■ourselves to tlie work before us, took once more to the road in a swinging trot. Two miles at this gait brought night on as, and us on the Sepoys, who had assembled once more, and were travelling along at an easy foot- pace. We now counted five, three of whom were armed with muskets, and the whole of them, judging by their uniforms, had but a short while before taken the queen's shilling. We also noticed on their persons some European trinkets, such as are worn by men and women in civilized countries, and this told but too plainly of a share in some of the many massacres which had recently occurred throughout the province. The absence of the muskets of two of the party we could account for with the two we had used in our encounter with the tiger, a detail of which we soon gave them. When this was finished, wo were about to press ahead, "but they crowded around us in affected ad- miration, and pressed us to partake of their hospi- tality for thoovening. I rapidly .weighed the chances of an encounter a^ that place, and concluded it best to go with them a little further, and pick a chance for leaving on more favourable terms. We accordingly accepted, and, in the space of a few minutes, we arrived at the hut of one of the number. This one had no family, and his residence was a small, squalid bungalow of bamboo, etc, and in thorough keeping with the character of its owner. The latter was a kind of leader for the party, as I soon gathered from the sense and tone of the re- marks ho addressed to his men, always using Hin- doostanee to them: and, although I understood the jargon very well, I took care to conceal my know- ledge from them. Wc improvised a stable for our horses, transferred the pistols from the holsters to our belts, where we also had a cavalry sabre a-piece, unstrapped the blankets from the saddles, and entered the house, throwing saddles, blankets, and all on the floor of the only room it contained, but keeping our weapons with us. We dispatched a meal which answered for our ■dinner, and disposed ourselves, with lighted che- roots, m such a manner as to be able to -watch the Whole crowd, and yet be aloof from theii* dubious companionship. Tor this purpose wc. selected the corner diagonally •opposite the entrance to the room, and where the лай ves had laid their empty muskets and accoutre- ments, retaining by them a kind of long knife, which all of them carried. They were crouched together in another corner. The smoke soon filled the room, and obscured the light in such a manner as to encourage them to •begin a conversation, to which darkness was best suited. After some general conversation, delivered in a preparatory manner, they discussed in low tones the best way of disposing of my friend and myself. Many facetious ways were suggested, which we were nob in a condition to laugh at; but they finally concluded to poignard us in our sleep. While they were thus occupied, their attention ivas so fully enlisted as to afford me ample facility for imparting to my comrade, in a nonchalant way, the gist of their remarks as fast as they were Tittered. Their plans being arranged, we anticipated their disposing themselves for sleep, by choosing the place we then occupied, and spreading, without delay, our blankets. As soon as this was done, we stretched ourselves out, removing our coats alone and converting them into pillows, and laying aside our sabres, but keep- ing the pistols in our hands under the blankets. Two of the natives were chosen for the "work," and, having'finished the day, the whole of them by down for an affected sleep. "The " two were lying on our left, within six feet -of us, and nearest myself, who occupied the position nearest the interior of the room. The night Was sultry, as usual ,in India summer, anda kind qf window (forpractical purposes a door) was open, within two feet of us, to admit the air. The moon had arisen, and her light fell through the window, across the lower part of our bodies, and on the floor for some distance beyond us. I watched, with half-closed eyes the sheen of her rays, growing rapidly impatient for fate to hatch out our fortunes. I gave forth the deep heavy breathing as of a man who is weary and wrapped in sleep. This was kept up until, after a half-hour was spent, my impatience arose to painful anxiety. Three quarters, and an hour finally passed without relief, when I detected a stir among the assassins. I continued my breathing from the sense of an oppression lifted from my breast, and watched, with quiet nerve, the advance of the two figures distinctly outlined in the hazy light. Жу foot now sought Elden's in warning, -but met his own, bent on the same errand, telling me that his time must have been employed very much as my own had been. Leaving my foot to rest against his, I pressed my finger against the trigger of my pistol, to prevent any click in cocking it, and cautiously drew back the hammer. Thus prepared, we both calmly awaited our opportunity for delivering a fatal shot. With all the determined quiet and energy which distinguish the Indian assassin among all others, when seeking defenseless blood, the dusky figures glided over the floor. They had the address of the snake with all the earnestness of the bloodhound. We saw them move, but the stillness was such as to allow our pulsations to be distinctly audible. More softly than the dawn traverses a summer ah*, they took their positions at our heads, and reached forward, with their blades ready for the blow. Their movements could not have been more in harmony if some nervous cord had connected then* brains. Now their bodies and heads were within two feet of our faces. This, I thought, is our opportunity, and was about to give a signal with my foot. A large bug flew in at the opening, striking the face of one of the assassins. Startled and disconcerted by the noise, they staggered back some paces into the darker region of the room. Five minutes passed, they recovered, and once more began their approach. They quickly resumed their former positions. • We had them now at our mercy; we had coolly awaited this favourable time ; it had come. My foot pressed against my comrade's, a double report followed, and the two Sepoys fell forward on our chests, shot through the head. Ere we could disengage ourselves, -the remainder of the party had leaned to their feet, and rushed to- ward us with gleaming knives. Eiden first arose to his knees, and with his second pistol grazed the head of the foremost man. Ho staggered backward, and £is .comrades paused. During the pause my second shot echoed through' the room without effect, and I hurled through the smoke the empty pistol into the face of my nearest antagonist. It felled him to the floor. I seized the knife of the dead man by my side— Eiden had already secured the other one—and to- gether we sprang forward, hoping to secure a triumph by a sudden rush. The man I had struck with my pistol had also re- ceived -Elden's ball. He was slowly arising; but, before he re- covered his feet, my companion passed his knife into his back. In the next second we-were each engaged with one of the two remaining natives. . The struggle was. hand to hand, and desperate. Our opponents were tall arid athletic ; so were we. It was race against race; .and, added to the national bitterness of such an encounter, we were inflamed by a long list of murders, where frequently our personal friends had suffered, and they were .enkindled by a long period of subjection to the Europeans,'by the memory óf the broken majesty of their nation, and by the fury (of religious fana- ticism. Our malice* arose to'ferocjty. The' traine,d Caucasian muscle is superior to that of the -most finely -developed datkskîn;. but none could teU the event-where the match was so even. We swayed about the room in each .other's clutch, the two parties frequently becoming entangled, when some advantage was gained and lost, 'firstly one, then by another. This continued for nearly a. ^ hajf-hour, when, seizing an opportunity, I backed my antagonist with vigour across a prostrate body, and fell on top of him as he came to tho ground, We continued the struggle in our fall, but the exhaustion on' both side3 proclaimed it could last but a short while. Throughout the fray, the left hand of each had the right wrist of the other held firmly in its grasp, save when an effort would extricate the arm for some desperate thrust. Our energy was now subsiding—each still on his guard. I sat astraddle my fallen enemy; Eiden was struggling near our heads. Да we lay in the moon- light, I saw the eyes beneath;me travel for an instant toward the other combatants. I seized the advantage, released the arm my left hand had held, and dashed my doubled fist into his face. Following up the blow, which, for a moment, con- fused him, I disengaged, by a vigorous wrench', my right hand, and my blade sank into his heart. As I repeated the stroke, I sought with my left hand to avoid his dying blow. He had gathered for this the last of his energy, while life^was ebbing fast, and, so.sudden was his movement, that, in beating his stroke upward, the blade;meant for my heart passed through the upper shoulder. His hand unclasped the hilt, dropped to the floor, and, with the effort, ho expired. I turned rapidly to assist Eiden, and he had soon added another to the number of the dead. The struggle ended, we sunk exhausted upon the floor. The long day's ride, the double excitement of the tiger fight and the encounter in the room of the bungalow, with its reaction, the fatigue of the struggle, and the heat of the day and night, had sapped our strength and energies. Hastily bandaging my shoulder, we .gave ourselves to sleep. It was late the next day when we arose, stiff from our labour and the many slight wounds which covered our bodies; but, saddling up without Де1ау, we once more resumed tho road, Delhi was reached without further adventure, and, having delivered our . charge, we returned safely to the command. In about a year the war was virtually ended, I started for London, and reached my Jaome in safety. * * * a # Mr. Stanley's adventures had taken so long to relate, that it was very near Blounts closing time when the tale was finished. However, having informed them that he intended shortly;to settle in their neighbourhood, our friends went home, hoping soon to hear a little more of Indian life. (To bo continued.) THE BOYS OF ENGLAND LIFE-BOAT. Subscribed to by the Boys of England^ Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. АГРЕALI 3IY DEAR BOYS,—It is with extreme regret that I have noticed .a great falling-off in the subscriptions to tho Life-boat Fund. Boys of England, do you intend to leave your .work Iialf done? A life-boat, its equipment, transporting carriage, and boat-house, averages ¿010, and^£50 a-ycar is necessary to keep it in condition. During the first eleven months of I860 the Boyal National Life-Boat Association, of which her Most Gracious Majesty is the patroneabas saved iT^lives.-and'Jiaa also given rewards for saying 360 lives. . Boys ^(especially you who have friends.at sea)..when you hear, tbo, wind -.homing and the rain Ъаиег1п£ against your windows, and y ou, are sitting comfortably ,by. the fireside, do you not exclaim—- • *' God help the poor ones at sea I" If boys can do such bravo actions as save lifo themselves, cannot they man a Jife?boat? I know that it will not be done this.year, but ,cannot you ALL contribute something so as to liave it ready for service by this time next year? If ypudó "Verily, I say unto you, you shall in no wise lose your reward." Iam, My dear Boys, Very truly Yours, Lifeboat. Amount last acknowledged, JE2S3 llsoSd. Liver- James Green, pool..... 0 *s John M. Georgeson.... 0 6 Black Ink...., ». О 2 W. JI. Baggs, Canter- bury 0 2 О. В. M. Crowthor.... 1 0 A H.UrqubartM'Ches- ter j2 ,8 AV. J. Ilarkncss 0 0 Billy Swallow ..4 0 С Collected (per card) by Amount received up to Feb. 7,1870, £284 Os. 8d. G. Gray, 1G2, Wheeler ■ Street, Maidstone, Kent:-G.Gray, jßd.; H. Gray, Gd.; Pearce,2d.;Mrs.ßray, Gd.;M.Wellock, Is.; C.B. Milliner. Л1.;'Е. iWren,ld.; JackRush- ton, Id.; Nobody's Child, Id.; Bicycle Bob, Id 3 It is generally conceded, .now-a-days, that tin makes the very best of belle metal- "I can't do it," never did anything. "Г11 try? has worked wonders; and "/ will do has per- formed miracles. Максп 1, 18700 207 BOYS OF ENGLAND. fate for % Зщ даш. *♦* Original Contributions only are required, and must be accompanied by name and address. Any puzzle or ■charade received after this date, and found to have been copied if rom other publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from Vie same person will be accepted. iVb Puzzle will be accepted unless Vie Solutions are properly worked ouL Numbered Charades in particular must have -PULL answers sent with them, I. The name of a vessel; village near PJymonth; name of an island ; grows in most gardens. CiunLEs Hicks. il I am a word of 8 letters. My 7, 3,5 is а Ыоип my 5,1,4,8 is to defy ; my 4,8,1,7 is to bring up; my 2,6,5 is opposed to everything good; my 3,1,4 is part of the human frame; my 2,3,1,4 is an animal; my 2, 7, 3, G, 5 is an article çf food; and my whole, dear reader, is a town in Scotland. Joseph H. Hamhond. hi. 1. A bird that's found in almost ev'ry clime. 2. An exclamation here will suit my rhyme. 3. What you will have to-day if not too late. 4. What most will have to-morrow, small and great. 5. Part of your frame please to set down for this. 6. Another bird I think won't bo amiss. 7. Uttered to urge old Dobbin on his track. 8. Part of .а b.areKthe farthest from the back. , &. The food eld. Dobbin eats with such relish, 10. The bottom of your garment I embellish. Take the initials, while seated at your ease, They name a county or a town—which yiou please. Robert Williams. IV. X consist of 14 lettcis. Hy 2.8,11,13,12,1 is arccluse; my 10,14,9,1,11, 3 is the middle ; my G, 3, 8,11 is an English quadruped; my 13, 5,1,11, 8 is a kind of cap; my 10, 2,12, 9 is a part of the face ; my 11, 3, G, 7,14,9 is to blush; my 10,11,3,7,12,1 is to trust; and my whole is a Lbeaatiful story in the Boys fOF t England. Thomas B. Hartón. v. • A small insect; part of a door; a town in Switzerland . ■ a bower : a son of Neptune, killed by Hercules; a game of cards; pastime; an obsolete coin; a bed-chamber; a pre- cious stone; part of a ship of war ; a musical instrument. The initials read downwards will give the namo of a cele- brated tale in the Young Цен op Great Britain. Francis Dent. vr. A little boy once felUnto a ditch. "Help," cried the little fellow ; but no one came to help him. "Is no one going to lift me out? I'd better me far not come out; but this is ibetter than.a wet ditch." At last a man camo by. u Bo fo good as to lift me out?" said the boy. So he :lif ted him out, but found he was a great deal hurt ; so ho sat down ■and had some ,of a biscuit. After thanking the man for his kindness and pity he walked home, A word taken out of each of ihe above sentences willtorm a well known proverb. Cyril Bellinqham. 1 VII. I am a sentence of fourteen letters. Ыу 12,2,1, 0, 12, 7 is a boy!s name; my.8, 11, 13, 13, 3 îs used to decorate the rooms at Christmas; my 4, 11,13, ■ 14 is the past of sell ; my 10,6,12,14 is composed.of letters; my 14,-12,9,4,A is clothing; my 14,11,2,12 is an outlet; my 0, 11, 12, 7 is a kind of castle; my whole.is the cheapest book published. E. J. Hodge. VIII. ( My 1, 4, С is a prefix to an Irish name; my 1, 4, 5 is a living creature ; my 8, 5 is- a preposition; my 7, 8,1,2 is a native dwelling; my 7,8,9, 2 is a cavity; my 3, 8, G, 7 is a piece of water ; my I, A, 5,0,10 masculine; and my whole is sorrow. ;ÄNSTO3KS TO СЕАСКДИБ 108. I. .Battle of, Crecy, or Cressy .fought between Edward III. and his son the Black Prmce, and Philip, King of France, August 2G,th, Ï34G. II. In the reign of Henry VIII., be- tween the English and German horse, against the French, at a place called Guinegate, Aug. lGth, 1513. III. Ernest Maltravers ; Earl, Bum, Nutmeg, Eight, Sheffield,-Timbrel, Morocco, Arras, Liverpool, Thyme, Rivulet, Arabia, Vulture, Elephant, Radnor, Shaft. IV, Theodamas; Themist», Hercules, Erigone, Oriis, Dis, Apis, Moysus, Acantha, Satyrs. V.-Treaty, treat, tear, tare, rate, rat. VI. Windsor Castle r Winnipeg, India, Nerbudda, Delhi, Solomon, Ottawa, Russia, Cincinnati, Aden, Souakvn, Taint, Lanark, EbaL VII. ^Elephant. VIII. The Hidden Crime, George Burghley; 'ThonG, HopE, EchO, HaiR, IncoG,DoE, DraB, LsaU, NeaR, CraG, ItoacII, IdoL, MolE^EncmY. Solutions received.—H. St. Andre,,two letters (the ^ord ** anagram " means the transposition of the letters of a **ord to form another, as Mary^Myra), MacJohn Venning (three letters), Г. Laidman, William Johnson, Frederick John Bailey, Charles Thompson, Robert Crossley, A. F. Clark, т. Bromfîcld, G. S. Jones (writing good, but hurried; '.composition, correct), Bob Ready, W. D. Sharp, Edward «Archer, J. R. Willmore, A. Farqubareon (all your questions to the Btaffo and play are answered in the notices). William Grove C. T. W. H. ilauy other solutions have been gent, but'the signature of the writers have been omitted. To the Arithmetical Problem in No. 1C5, three answers bave been sent, but they all vary most strangely. We careful;in picparing the puzzle, and the solution Published in No. ICS is correct, to which we refer our cor- espondents. %* All Communications to be addressed to the Editor, Mr. Edwin J. Впетт,173, Fleet Street, E.C. ** We. cannotf under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal, **» Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents in a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. ** Correspondents who wish to receive replies by post must in ail cases send stamped directed envelopes. Yoünq Arthub.—" Copyright is the exclusive Tight which ] an author has of selling, printing and re-printins. publish- , iru? and re-publishing, las own original work. Copyright \ Is personal property, and assignable as such. A copyright must last at least forty-two years. The copyright ot every volume, part, or division of a volume, pamphlet, sheet of letter-press, sheet of music, map,chart,or. plan, separately published in the author's lifetime, endures for his natural life, and seven years longer; but if the seven years expire before the end of forty-two years from the first publication, the copyright lasts for such term of forty-two years; and if the work Is posthumous, the copyright endures for forty- two years from the first publication, and belongs to the proprietor of the deceased author's manuscript." So says the work mentioned elsewhere in answer to " Landlord." But the section whence the extract is taken is too long for us to quote In its entirety. J.M. L. Jun—(].) You cannot do better than apply to a mathematical instrument maker. (2.) The gallant captain is still living. (3.) Covent Garden, JDrury liane, Hayinar- ket, Adelphf, and Olympic are the principal old established Êlaces of amusement. (4.) The spring which has generally cen regarded as the source or head of the Thames is about three miles south-west of Cirencester, near a bridge over the Thames and Severn Canal, whlch is called " Thames- Head Bridge;" but that which is to bo regarded as the '* true " source of the Thames lies three or four miles south of Cheltenham. The whole course of the Thames, from its source to its mouth, Is about"220 miles. One Intehested is informed tliat, by the reduction of post- age, on and after the 1st of February the tollowing regula- tions regarding the inland and sample post will be in force. The postage will be Id. for every weight of, ioz. or fraction ot that weight- No packet of patterns or samples must exceed 1202. -There must be no writing or printing on the packet. In addition tó the address of the person for whom the.packet is intended, and the postage must be prepaid by postage stamps. Falmouth.—(l.) Yes. (2.) We are not connected with the art and mystery of the growth of hair either on the head' or the lip; there arc a great many nostrums sold for tbe purpose of encouraging the growth of hair : but, be careful; for, some time since, one was purchased that'converted a full •» black" moustache into an u Emerald green." (3.) Yes; very good and "legible," which, as the late Lord Palmcrston said, is the only thing writing is fit for. Olden ТШЕ.-Sir Richard Whittington lived in the reigns of Richard II., Henry IV., and Henry V. Many fictitious stories are related about him; It is, however, certain that he was of very humble origin, a great benefactor of the С ity of London, and third time Lord Mayor in 1Ш. Tommy Tadpole.—The dark ages were from the.close of the sixth until tho dawning of the fourteenth century. During this long and dreary interval, Alfred and Charlemagne aimed at the revival and restoration of literature In their dominions, but with little or no success. The Arabians in the ninth century were the great patrons of the arts and learning, which were repudiated in Europe. Studio.—"¥ ou ask us the value of study ; we cannot do better than tell you what Cicero says upon the subject *\Thc study of literature nourishes youth, entertains old age, adorns prosperity, solaces adversity ; isdellghtlul at home, unoDtrusive abroad; deserts us not by day nor by night, In journeyincr or in retirement." R. Pick.—(l.)~Wc have no intention of giving a pantomime away. The season for pantomimes Is fast drawinsr to a close. (2.) Requires great improvement before it Is lit for an office. W. Blacoiore.—We think you can purchase the articles you write about at 3Ir. white's, armourer, Bow Street, Covent Garden. Inventor (Waterloo Town).—A patent i$ good for the United Kingdom, the Channel Islands, and tho Isle of Man. The cost of the various processes in obtaining a patent amount to about £103. You can register your invention provision- ally for one year for about £5. Consult Messrs. Newton patent office, FlcetStrcct. TauE BLUE.-At the close of the last year there was in commission 177 English screw steamers, in addition to 25 armour-plated ship?; they numbered in guns Д,С«0; men aud boys, 32.G9S; and the nominal horse-power was 57.8-85 —a tolerable good squadron avherc the Empire Is ACüTLÉit.-Stowe, tho antiquarian, says that "knives' wercflrstniadein England in l503,byo.ue;Richard .Mat. thews, on the Fleet Bridge, who obtained a prohibition against foreign knives bcina sent into .this country. Clasp knives became common in England aboutliwO. A Sufferer We arc sorry for your affliction, uut.we know of no cure for it. Search down the columns of the Times; there are persons advertising to cure what you arc labour- ing under, and they may be able to assist you. How willingly we would do so if we, couhi. Catedonia.-(1.) We believe Lord Napier is.at prescnt In England. (2.) We cannot answer for the accuracy of the report; it is not necessary that every black man should be the sou of that tyrant, Theodore. (S.1 we cannot at present inform you. (4.) How is it possible wo can tell H? Rjseves.—An exciseman Is an officer Jn the department or, the Inland Revenue, and great interest is required to obtain a nomination. Second class assistants,of excise enter between tho ages of 18 and 25, and must pass an ex- amination in writing to dictation and arithmetic up to decimal fractions. , „ Wait for Me.-<1.) Your bookseller can procure the s'oge at our office? and as to the cost of carriage, from Fieet Street to Limehouse is not a** very • great distance. (2.) You can purchase lantern-sl des at any opticians; try Ncgrctti and Co., Ilolbom; they have some thousands to select from. AKbADER—Youdo not specify whether it is tobo.awiud or a stringed instrument. The one that may be the most pro- fitable in the former is the " flute, the other the '* violin." By industry and constant practice upon either of these, a very excellent living may be gained. A Lovek of tue Sea.-(1.) In a iorrncr numbor o.f the Journal wo gave full particulars, and we think you will Unci it in No. 40. (2.) Yes ; when we have room. (3. > Try Liverpool; we think you will have more chance thau in London. Woüld-be Sailoe.-The Marine Society Is in Bishopsiratc Street ; by applying there you will gain full particulars. Constant.—(I.) Neither of thc.bcveragcs you mention are intoxicating. (2. ) There are many recipes for what you ask for, but at present we Jmvo not one handy by us. (3.) The same good wishes attend vou. Bowl of Füncu^-Wc think a work of the kind has been published by Messrs. lioutlcdge and Co.; at all events, your .bookseller will let you know. Excuse us answering the question respecting your writing. M»we«ne CoMrsTALL.-(L) The most nourishing things you can get. so as to keep up your strength. (2.) Do you mean the city or the city and suburbs? (3.) Good: suitable for a mer- chant's counting-house. S. T. W.-U.) It is impossible to say to what height you may grow, although from your present account it is moro than likely you will not be a Chang. (2.) Writing will do very well for a copying clerk. Lantv Shan.—We do not, and wc doubt If the author cor- rectly knows. The list would be too numerous to publish In our Journal ; so for the present rest satisfied with what he Is doing now. L. Y. Z.-You had better ascertain where the 2.3th Regiment of Foot is garrisoned. We don't think you stand much chance at present in gaining glory, as it Is rumoured that thé army is to be reduced by at least 10,000 men. GIVEN AWAY WITH LAST WEEK'S NUMBER OF YOUNG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN, LARGE AND MAGNIFICENT Drawn, Engraved, and Coloured expressly for that Work at a cost of over FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS, Representing An Exciting Scene on the Shores of Old ¡England During the Oppressive Power of the Press Gang. In presenting this Grand Gift, Mr. Brett wishes to stato that he does so as a mark of respect to- his Readers for the powerful patronage besjtowed on the YOUJib JlEN OP Great Buitain. TW;0 IV EW S Т.ОДЦЕ S Commenced in the same Number of tho Youjso Мых of Gueat Bihtain, ono in connection -with the above Grand Picture, entitled, THE PRESS GAN6: A STORY OF OLD ENGLAND. By the Author of the "Rival Crusoes/' "Tom Daring" The other New Story is one of SCHOOL LIFE, entitled, HURRICANE TOWER: OR, THE SCHOOL ON THE CLIFF. By the Authortof "Friend or Foe," **Rcdlaw the Bushranger," &c, &c With numerous other novelties, altogether .making No. ?08 of the Young Мея OP GllKAT .Biutain ,one -of the grandest Works ever produced. -Ж) EXTRA CHARGE; the Number, with picture, price IN PREPARATION, 'SPLEND ID NE W TAL E FOR ТЦЕ "BOYS OP ENGLAND." Fall-particulars shortly, TO OUR READERS! Mr, Brett wishes Ms Readersio understand that if any handbills have been inserted injm Worbtthey have been placed there without his knowledge or authority by some .person wlm Ца$ ta1;en a mean advantage oj ihe popularity of the "MOYS OF. ENGLAND;1' "XOUNG Ш OF QRE4T and "BOYS OF THE WORLD," Those three Journals being the only ones Mr, Brett is connected witli. MR. EDWIN JVBREJTT Wishes to ;inform his readers, in acknowledgment of the great favour bestowed upon this Journal by alljclasses, that he intends to present Gratis" A SERIES OP MAGNIFICEN.T (HETS, to be .continued week by week, of a mo§t novpî, ,amusing, and instructive kind. These gifte will entirely differ from anything hitherto given with any journal. * '. • Full particulars will be given in an early K"muer of the boys of шаялмл. PART XXXYIII. of the BOYS OF ENGLAND } IS NOW READY, Price Sixpence; or, Pes; free from our office, Sevcnpcncc. ISOYS OF ENGLAND. RHIN HÜ3 AND HIS MERRY MEN, Л NM» Г UK Ui'uK.i Г-Ci Y PL.U Г,;> IS ТЛК MlKLX- Vb ььть ььлуьь nb; sîtAbib < iiAl'Trj; vu, b V i.'-'1- ', а/ f î,a b tro i. '\a r» i ad (;í í • f.ЬопааК brraaoa b< r; idíw t; o.aa á г- .ai î « от ! ir )!.;,Ом' 'i;:- -a 1»!;, »а. « а.оач' t< г ! .-i'!:'-', i i ■ * ;. bark, ja b а.ч fa* ,N'oá Ьм ' » ,-J !y ra a :ooan,-i til./ y a > , bab: >o' а '>,\aonr>-r, who v;u< <->b> о?о/л -v. j « o • « •î i, * a; > ■'•' pb >a, bok, ;o OI ^<*;; '.;¡ <•!! ;'v '■•nibfr/t i и-/л* i»", "bin !;íU;íh;r,-( u; l/- ;'!¡" v*-f • '.'î л; , ,:• r v. ¡ti, Sí'í'' .-у- * '.'. t 'í i h>H ">'<•:! " Iii' w.1 ■ ¡.f.jt'i ; iüíí.,% "I'm Vffv* -••»rry Г*л'..'гМ M:>r$;uï; Ki ;tfí»-r îî"bin iv:<>' ;t Ьг.чг-<« ими, .ira; Г»i i:nv ,^5íftíii:í;,z Ji;i!ífboí:í-' 4». ,';,ak< Ims ♦ i''!'■>" i.* Hk- ait ti;-." « ",->>!U".í iíUV.I h>i/) f'" rrln] }\>,},;u. 'y.iíKín! ; V: "í;í>;Is ;',;y v. ¡rii. I;t ;л:Л'>* hît/: rt»»* i».}' »n* ¡r:,r¡;«;*i«i f^b.'fV'* "'!-':}нну f;>'»r»« in *,'iy lo 't >\; и' . "f'if U>,;\:<, '*',;/« f]/u¡ Î"»S- M^bi»! f> il м^ il-r'^ly v: *<íy¿> ?huí bf .u'îin't u'vi; 'Mar.-iî, î îî /!'*" !i< iî? "ям: /,'î.f-t. .-ri ь. tb? До/.*'"- Wh"*i lie ,ч,-k*;«flit- 'лЬи5 *-s -,^.,M ¡ib- t>¡ Ь'* ííi b>;í; >Ьм г. yîii.l l' I ■"*<,,;Л/ л. »" brj :kt tí'.' r/U'ic iim-i -.4i'î :i -v.i' :i ~f r >n<>" îif^î Л'.г Mr Li^l.^cy î-i «*h, U 'Ь-н b',-;- t «:t anil 4; a,^ bi> vv-îv t iïj;rt :!!г-'« ¡,íl ,¿íí »liy.juL-f; by its .t roru iirî i! ^,!vf foiHid f,hf« b ir< tn л ;i,4l, î wo <>f my -.";/ > 1 Ь:',п í ,Uf'''U'.*í i(í • 1,л,'г то i;- f>.:,!,<: w H:(lí;ffi, 11 ;,"|L '•"in-* in f' г yr»;¡>* -1 y ir-df vvl¡ir)i ?.. ;>,\.f,'í\ P.üí -*!;»' iva*> |П"<ии1, úr>4¡ :,í,¡{ f;f«y juv»:f ui"l tг.»: \vv¡rMT or i!n|)i' «.'ПК'! bifilí H'-r fürlii-r vv:iM?f ;'l mi'ï'Hî ,m'«s t!,» Г/lî - • !,•»' i'í'in/.'d th«' kníd lew 11« indeed, H'iJ.í' !,r,',»>; — ,"! '."•'•kt-i, f,¡y vurírni-, к;, í'-n h,? r .if^'ouíií, b'i', 'O- !( 1 f <'(-•»?•.-' hit :í v< H¡ 'nv;'" liobín, v. íí h и jnw ,'.v, t íjЬ3 vm.!i!ai, !«»:• ¡'y,. i-r;ír<¡ í':nf t;,.,{ ftii'io!' j, iï.i-.v ЦоЫп Ил.лч! í|!f.;>.t,; t.'.,.'^. «ЧПТ»," <".',!■('•'!' .: 1 Ь:л: t :(..', ]< ,¡ of oui f i:::1!'/ oi1., 'yvH-lL H w:iy y:" .!t!y ^,;t,v y , M'.^y ;í ''.í'V V^'n,"'"»'1!'''' *b-;'tL;.' f í' "t i - y ,..;,v, I;,- '¡..^'p-ti r .ÎÎ Hke ui;t.!, ;ни1 1 afí»T 5'!'!¡s. S'-v^Íutií mil**.'». íтj •' ¡I t Ьго.и/Ь Un ?Yí:>- í, í :¡i';.t.-t ^ X(>'t, ч Г tlr, А'л! whí»t Sh» ':hí wh.'í; bi« »»грг, fût,., L'.'.v;\»,; tir - *.Мчгм/,.. v,v »,rü row тпгк Г'^ í.Ui»»!b»'f t -, 15 r, ni Sol' íny'lmtn, wîji^h t r « «к. .]:«!;<> :i,»;r,';;wíy <-\VfV IlVmíh t'WUfJ« í,h*'» HÎStll Wff'i Дуги. í'AvryU,^-wíi.4 ч.Ы íb-ri. ;! t-Hly Ио.Ь. I, ,11,4 •/•><;'! i fí! :;»тг :rr," î'-y.» ub'î caí'a mi ;'и. é an«, f tí:yv wmi/. ''Ь»<;н.'Ьг< t'í '*nu /4"'*л'йулу>т-, !Îb-'Vî-ï b.i'f." 4 '! d'.!>;. Tin г»,1 -л"г- ai,-с ь'Л^го.гч, i;,-';-:';/'"'/.î'o-jji:! .-Ь<''л-« ;<"«d д v,.,¡ í-íy ¡>f o;,h<"? :.ní'í \t 1 n\:vi->von,4 i•> m**r.í ;<>,*;» ; »n ;h< o'-^ii'/r,!; v,'t- ,ir" :1Лия1« ?o -yr'ik oí. *vv«'í y- b'-íiy л"»-!-,! f.» ''i'* »,t;i'. ií*'*"»?ny:füi'-'i by nverj'bo'Jv .'•■"t M<* <,.;,:y TI.-' ь,. ;b'« bnr /-^;/,vr //íf f'!>7' lí.i: la! b:f to tío wi:b o»r -f» rv .-f ;,!' b'-tiv.- <;r,nt.u Ял, ib;V í, Oí ,-o.íf . ib»- ,Yi-r:íÍ' . o* (íy al ¡w. f<-»\ ;i?.<î ;rï toen, r,,0»'}/ib' —OI* Г.'П b'or, |.м; î, у о ■O!0bv /» ■ЛЫ í .<»,„, ï-'Hi-HO ííiííii-tr.-;^ of ¡til «."rfoniíar:^» lo: tb.o ífí.-r.o ;uní far 'î bon..-:;' ;y-, i-j îb-o о/",оо' •' -S f-ü'b'-ofirb'jo, ,vi'i ;ii ; ;,'Jb ;;.,'îf ! out 01 a pair of ^ !.,tbab»' íuo; y',о!" лМ и.-: yaí.. a: ■«« ¡a oy a-a tb'íf iVOj;j, - majority of them went '* V/ f,,V\>< h, fit'-;,» Tb¡^ layaf тог. has лЬ.оа'/îb.' i-bv tbar»:a ai t»aab Л by 1 •л-ого ylonsvof u->,\m v.-rvuHicb. Ил г.-ло •.vi-Vlaabb í'tb it. an Áurd "ibaoa «'oîakbaa. |-b*vínor 'ba,:!<"a a-!b-(-fuuI p.'t-tboo^' Ï 'nab,-, ioaa !ta* fits- 'Ь гтлг, b.oab \ bat - '«'''а'-а•>',; >aby, ?!ab .it tija- Л"!;о ;aaa.'4 ai a i e iVr; у / у';,' aat';/b!ab b :v b ,)b Ib*bai aaal 1 î is aaai o> м<а b- a: * ;aa' ra î" ''ai-a, b « a:- .i-ív<;- ia h\\v\i a aab'a- o*.so<-; b-af, bo i,.a \ aa aa/ay \%'b,b ,div ,oii«,b ,0« a. Tb"V v,'-'p' a!! îЬ»**а*, and voa • bab ^b^rîiy baar 'ab,; noab-rf b í\-mU »таа t Л, 'l'b' r*' a ,f,;a'/] O''-а' yv ааЬм-п — wbíob. îaw.ob! »a.ab .a" v..и.f, ^--a, r /^//.y —*y,v,:f»' b x-a! iîj« ¡-a îb" p'oaîi, l'b?\va -ab ¡irrov.-%маа* ba.r lo ;ho-" u (с» b.aî îaaa» of tl..-а.' ! ,,v. n -H îb*' rat< « Г ч, f,afaîa;^ -1 pob- Tla- yaa,* - î" Uf bí-а, bi^oo? ai * !a iary-t w, - л \'<-AA aiaî ^-ibo»- ua'-av, :-a!a;b w bb buaaaaîa ail ba-a*-;.'-.; .bbov»*-b, aa-oa. ib-a; i ab Carbi • from f b«' {;«;■<:<-t. l'aï' 'ab"* «'Г.' {.r.-viiÏMÎ caiti- f. a 1Ьач«- '.vb-, ;v«av .а!«аг-оЬ:.:. b, b, l^ria- a--aabî,iab' <>î b'J'l-- ';-li' i,,.' ,Ь,1а-ь'оу*^ь'^о, J b* oat аг''Ь"Г aoaib, *.\ il!a'aiî a a*",« ar. o.vobîa'y' \s r '.< ) r-b-; лЧ'.р,; t'iHm ;b' in baaa b;-, iaa"aí.% r и • i ¡ - 'a Uba «a-iy b;:.ia,f, aaabîbuk î lo a f, ho voabbyvo'. • iOî-.boM" of --v. «V">!y 'b' ro, s!aaîy by ^b/b.y ,• /-о'"",1; «y*- íí f o/o' //ao; ло/f/ y mix f liât,"-i'h'., î tvooa v « râ vi/^ < f o,, t a ty.'i'î. Tina- - w v b,ab аруа<ам . юаЬ ^a-al aa*,"'* ■bna- îb-i'b w iba a;<-í"av J-'-'* аа";*.-;-.. Ai !.v 'í-'уу b s' a--л ¡rb îaaa r,a"^a.'vbi ч y,( ,; ai »a !:•'* , --b 'r', a 1 i-b-oo b* < ■s-''»" ' *a;io a". a¡ o-b., .0 «да, a'.-a bîa î"-u-* . N>^ ?o b,-.,, ab^ io,.:/i ,T * t-1 i'ooibaa» - ... "Freddy, has soon been Ье^еп," observed one of -tue spectators. ": ¿at:isn'tVFreddy,,' said -Lascclles, .who had been "watching, through a glass. : 1 ^/"^Vho isitthen-?^' '* * ^Marsham.: ;I can't understand why. he should give iip like that," ÍUrcu 1, 1870.] 211 BOYS OF ENGLAND. ч "You must be mistaken." 7" No, you will see in a minute ; they will soon 'be here. What a pace they arc coming at!" Egerton and Pembridge were rowing a fair thirty-sis strokes per minute, and almost lifting ^beir boats out of the water. To the surprise of everyone, Freddy Webber .yas not many yards behind them, struggling 'bard to distinguish himself. "How splendidly the carl feathers his oarl" .'Observed a. boy named Seaton. "Yes ; but you.sce his stroke is flagging. He | "bas not the same power of endurance as Egerton,": said Lascelles. "Of course you stick up for Frank." "And I iim'right to do so. See, he puts on a ßpurt, and gradually draws ahead." His remark was perfectly correct. The King of the School was slowly yet surely creeping away. "Anâ see, Freddy puts on a spurt," remarked Seaton. Webber, who was at least a фэгеп yards behind £he others, though no one had fancied he would be able to gain or keep such a position, was seen to be working most violently in hopes of im- proving Iiis chance of success. But the race, however, was between Pembridge and Egerton. The young earl had a vast amount of pluck in bim, and would not see that he was beaten, though the boys on the banks already hailed Egerton as winner. "Bravo, Frank! Hurrah for the King of the School 1" shouted Lascelles. "And hurrah for the Earl of Pembridge!" bawled Seaton. "Hurrah for the carl 1" responded Lascellcs, though not quite so heartily as he had cheered Egerton. Yet he could not help admiring the indomit- able pluck of the young peer. "Egerton wins! Egerton wins 1" was now the general shout. "No! Éembridgc for ever!" The earl had actually managed to get his boat's nose at least a yard in front. '.It seemed that things were to be entirely altered. The boats were not more than twenty yards from the winning-post, Freddy still maintaining bis post about twelve or fifteen yards behind, when suddenly the Joe Miller of the School," as AVcbber was sometimes called, managed to catch a crab. ;" "• •; [ Of course the immediate result was that ^he fell out of his boat, and circumstances seemed Very much against his ever regaining terra Jirma, for the lookers on had entirely lost sight of him, and were watching with the most in- tense earnestness the struggle between the earl and Frank Egerton. Freddy, it should be observed, was unable to . swim, and, therefore, strictly speaking, had no business upon the water. "Egerton has^vvon, hurrah 1" he heard every- one shout and then he sank. - The King of the School had won, his boat being a yard in advance of the other, and loudly Were he and His; opponent cheered as they stepped ashore. _ Both were very exhausted, and had to be helped home, followed" at a little distance by Kate Conway. "Who is that' in the 'waterГ Suddenly ex- claimed Dpctor .Whackley, as his eye wandered over the late race-course. "Why, it must be Freddy Webber, sir 1" said Seaton." t'But who is that in after him?" cried Las- belles. "Don't know," responded Seaton. ''It is H°t one of our fellows." Lascellcs inmediately stepped into one of the 'boats and rowed to the spot. "Bravo, Harry I" he exclaimed, when he saw ^bo was attcmptingfto rescue Webber. , The rescuer was Harry, the poor lad who had been protected and helped by the pupils of lexicon College. Freddy Webber was quite as obstinate in the yater as out of it, and insisted upon being saved *u his own way. His idea was to clasp Harry round the neck and cling to him ; a proceeding that would cer- i tainly have .drowned both. Lascelles saw it, and, by a quick stroke, sent his boat between them, thus preventing Frpddy from adding murder to suicide, as he afterwards observed. "Cling on, one each side," said he, as soon ag he had effectually parted them. Fortunately, Freddy had sense enough to un- derstand the command. Not seeing Harry he caught hold of the boat, and, the water not being very cold, had no great difficulty in supporting himself. Poor Harry caught hold on the other side; Lascelles used the oars gently, and very soon had both of them on shore. Loud applause greeted both, and so delighted was Doctor Whackley with Harry's courageous conduct, that he publicly expressed his intention of taking the poor boy under his own care and protection. CHAPTER XVI. TWO SCOUNDRELS. Baynes having declined to have anything to do with the boat-race, went, as we have already hinted, to hear the latest news about betting. ;He took his way towards a billiard-room, to which the reader has been already introduced, hoping there to see Captain Robinson, who had sent <. ■ 'UP '<■;.> !■;• :í.í- Л a cet'of affection," ep-apa" i Araak and а w Ta he ;í!";II Г i •'. î W Лfi*î ЯД'сг! Ka!»' tAiütA" s' *{;<-<-.; h A w.-rdg. I ... ynr, t. и í ? î le sa ; but wan tilî yon br.ro Feen as i î !bv wnvhl ;i< I bav»\ îi.»"i y*.i nul alter м- "ï aabaa Tr:""- I -л i"! e< *í î,»' ,r H a.p i "ti, haf P Ah shall j $e where if fancy should <,(•(••! he tío difficulty { ни* - '"mtîiv' here, Г-/Г I, ehah always bel !,:«;-|>y Р W" ра»Т TT at was ;úi Vviííik ее aid extrait, írom Mr. jmvay, and vv í î ? s A he had P be ;4ied, j ay » f i" !Ta: aAwa awu" <¡i'i^.! î-e> aAaA. '!и' - p ran?' i* vvhn i s ; и | \><-<-<л л«'«-ц t«' г {i ter 'Í a * Ii":;-«1., V.'i; "h.'^'l-ib. hAllA ;elid Mr. Awaaay. ROMANCE OF FRENCH HISTORY* it h >т Tin«; кл1:м;:>г At Та-т С \ i л v Pea »a,r; av;He;a Ы * ¿lu; b'tt I (»<:blícly ¡l' Ta- as A.-eay îM.-ч are i < • -1 > 'í ^ *; WÎttïî í e iy-ciy:;{ j и.) i ; î ,ч 5««;; e; ; ! м: т..»ч* 'л:!; h> í a î !,r -iíbj«'i-;f ibnügii I m-f-í síl:<*«*r.'J;> н<-{ ea¡p:if will í;ike au e,'ir!y nj>|Hirti;!;jiy a-f le, I a<- м!:а •! he :We> ;> r(( >a, M 'î , -hafíi, í *' 'efe, í < v П ¡ FMx^erní i, «л!ю iiri-l '.«'ea v/ais|.«a i:a.r í'-yi.a f íinaü^ :à-* hdîei purl e-f r a> haratiya«-, e< е/,-e :i nett: îe í'r¿*ÍeS.-aî.>r bra .••ir, í îi-'И "h> ja«íe,s Hlaaiaf b*- ^oppe:í al íSh* Ь;ш!;. " calbai to tí'i h"ib'ral Oft 1u ïhe next t-r.vn af(-l;! \i Wï',xih"V fr Г/, íaa« ir.eie naas i»í' 1 ¡.- *' í f <-h )'• a laJ-k í- ч îaaa f»ave, V.i!¡!* puraîs fea.r î ha4 líie ínaerca: uaey: '* V"«, i¡ be earne li«Te." eaia.e гаена* e;-;aeitîî:( :ь îaaay af u • bave hmi'k ** ít едьЧ la. ?ay lííie'a »'•» fj," <»b- üetMí, i i oiii' uwn ; £ur ihjtaiice, 1 have ¿everal,1' s'TV-d Frank, r*nv\ a:el ho -a¡rtioitatety indubiual. , F rank's* walk i юте tu м>и.Л üiat •4}и;-а í aaaleSy 1 de ra И kn«»w th-au." ':i(:'!it with t\ati' r.m'.va)*-; aria "\h.a cie/h* «„:( 1 l'a"' ibb-rruaî í.»ü ír^m \}¡u ; b(..ti 1 i kyaih :« а, \'. ач paal í\:u-m U< yo;,, siv." - íeyht. I a ja sa/' af taje*', n, •! ti ai iaí< mai "a n e.ir- h^ painel 1 \vii< forw.arl h Ь» allí" ! ra< ¡. хаа п v. ¡f h 'ah-aa i 4(;;мк i! )ik»av yea a Ím :h" í ahí; « ; h* aja; a" Te, '.e.-aa" íbi'íi left fh.a; -ehe« Î-Гепе;. <; Л a h-e;r jet --e»! aw..y, !aa>a--- ía, the ba\a | Аг, ri'l- }•//, ,".v/av, /he teaнгсотра .-utuf Ijy f ни» /V лее, /1 ah ;»:; (hj. a >l ¡>¡mrt и f •';/ a hotí î cm и>мт oj aye. , i Til" a or- p'î ": h'-r let the îiîief be'.va г»-, | fur :i' 1 ';aii !:iu> non Í .-haU certainly упа-а,!.' l'àj'îally b;i*i-.fïil w*-r<' îke hr"aaaa ivlhah vi.hf.'h lüh -le-y.aaa la ear'e hah, }> anía¡ i he ;- '-и,i a-;ae,ale i a -aaaT ae! *,i h, -ht.c^í v, f i: WAV 1 ha-I * hat 'Is i leave' nef h,~a hhah' a.<"h {îa- d.,e!-ar. I s ;• 'h'ha la ■ h-.к- I a- eaeh «-ther hi-i raaf ,ру, I , '<'hv aa a; ía V"! h feri" wa- kaaav!". i-uah alaekaa.: •)[ (i"*!;/, , h-ave,-, havf. heea h,a-aas < ,ah - .f азу h.e, ... dî-'.we."«. \ 'Те'уа^а.мТ, í,e« hüa íha^í h'"»\aa'e I \'a»a.. p.i-aeí .'««Aar, ihtrhe* vaih'eh fha-'Taa.v ae ,ah«. hap:y hi- '-t a< r iáa?ir. ív.-'ert» ai hah л. va) a! very ph-a-aiea iihaa'- ¡ ejaa.a'S," Vaa«,'.. wifh Kate Г-aa.vay, ', .\h)w, t hi< wa;< not paaisa ut h »r Í he К -a ha-e he t.h'l tea- a,r*a'-, рТ> , f h. - h y% ba-e i Tb" h.SlH'M'ï.f îieatihar,^ ef fh,* леТе.; hf ef eoer.-ia *• !»e. уии h.'Ve те, Kate 'Г he tía a» aha-h ; aa\;îh je-î a-'í; e/h-a waa yaiity, sa îh,at the ara "W".,; |h< iuy wah" aa taa> иг fhra-e г.цч' ( paaen Waa Ге- í< aihha!» lina ,"" * Л aPhef w.aTa wr- h-y ;;f t'a» hank ; haï haai ,a , v. ! ,ah, îa-p. »î;a« v. e; -aia^-phaa n >../,. , ¡ f'uaaäi ;y j ((. ■ с, a ,e ^ ai 1 iaai^ h aaî an-^aa? paite, 5k- "ih S4.I le- L.eu!! hi- Ta-hhr, < -j,^, p.,,} îo p,r r^íi i ¡ f KJa i í \' Wrhíü'.t :!-,ya. d-. h aap h--:м .'"la-;,P,. .!;1:Ч p,r (!|и- yiVA the other, ааЛ*|!а; haaa . , r ïm... ■; -..líy г;,;>:^^г h;-:; *'s - v. a aa-1 aa, i <, , p (ф ( ;tJ, (tf ,|l)Jj|b,n;^ ,;iî |r:l.t haïjfi. , 1 wop-'l »Л« , la ■ hîap. ,Г , л Да^лаа, e '' a ¡ h ai- a. e, ^ | a^e'-iit, pe. aha v,'la» hah pr< "ч'п^-Л panaia" 5 «аа'ра*л, i» "an ¡a ¡v'ílX !ía h Г VÎ'.hhaa«a«, At a a a/* h h,r\ were ru hay г-аа-д ht nsaa tia.hr h-fhauana \ ¡ hey ne ha î/e'ty--evee, peaua'U -«ara-, ahh '' h ;aay 1 a ; at;; 1 r. aa I - ; ai h" Í etn âî:;a h ha.ü Fra.-a . tha» v<..a (,,..а:а ■ h' Ia»h* heaja v; P" ?a: ■ at a ae-.-' la;* ha v- ,*eh aíra'ah I hahl ha a. p, «a neae aaa v.1 a к î;îv way н< ta" wi.a'-h N :T'a la l<" • '-V' e.h la *k a' ha-, » | ata -a;»' îaa <., a' aa f - ■1 4 'и a rn my r;,ar:y a a/ y.-ah* 'I T a '' ';v b- aaa f i f,Pk ;|, "î a <À ;a aaaa- ^Ih.îhtar" %va-4 pr»a\ t,,,( i{! ,| 1и;;,м(,.,ч |<,А ihm f „-,, ";>;aa í 'aaí la- ^a-a' i b.< , ' ;Pa a.a-a v/hh , , Ta- r:A. i Tea,- a- îh-' frontier oí Ihr. Tpiíeeae-. i The ïaavf <1.чу a yretP; ah.a:t {АпНаеп, weh ; j!f( ,îj;;!J,: ;,!;V pbp;i„, nT!y t- !he 1 кг<->.^еТ aa г г^ргема.Ааа' A'ir-ai a - oa-ynt Aaa p,,!s|,.,^p ¡t ll(lia,p f!,av *^.г, p;s рчАм, rha-kaw Pa.-.,.a,,t,h, paahs V. at мае '. pA'ai! Up tu '. j', j,< '.v.i',' . • , í Aa a"-A jh , - * ■ ' - Fe;,,-,., : ;,,iisi- ;>aaa - A Aa,p:at a. th" ah — "•<îî !l k-y I'ew hay, aAajavarcis Л Aw la/ur^ aftaiea'anA the f.-vere.ah pah'laiaai 1 hnhîaiîh hr- va a h hi eaiva h , a ah a ti-.J e f P he • Tea; that aJA:i:

eef!e;i ehepae' frw.a Aaa»-1 Ai," e aara' ;a^< :p ■ P a-area^ ;,.aaew.e -pT'aTh. ^ '* T h aa raet,-d Í r. a a t îaa poe'a •** its the eper ot" í'¡a apa.aah. h A- wri-h a-^p '«vh.^ ,a iie-a wa- - Í;" v : ae "v А>" л1;;-' níAp,,, ,vp «, a¡; I кк i sniaP h" hea,-; PPS r,oî laake aa, y pahke a,tí". ai ai v = aaa "t' h a ,--тау .ve e-.-, , va-ly i-a Is ih* ; ■ .-' 'л at' hl-hi'ar ahe,p A * "-, >.:a aaa-aaa/at uï fhe iA"A h,.î vat tAr ;p ,ле h.a-..'.а, a">i h' »'• ,!- - '-"val f.,.ree^ h r, Ae ■ ;e. .a>y M a «paa 1=; penwavp «hv a--t iva ■ k»r tr< lat-nh «a-- -Ter v Aa p:^ p, u'ahae ynhh p íüey Ir- paa ira i a* a I an'- PI'v 1 t -ataraA, « Vaara-a-r"! ¡a У o. l*'¡¡ А1 taja "Г Аагаа, Ai Ab'tí p 5.«;.;, J IM.", T.OYS OF ENGLAND. JYaiM« muy Iii« b'o'id-quarî'Ts îdvm Dresden 1 **' КампЬ n Fe îv v.vaitod Fie « и--my ; \ *J»d, ontb- bob» I7îh, ood isin <МоЬц\ blb [ Г 'vbt \\¡ú, them ;t tr« ш« odous "< u'tb, m wobb . í'r* '-vas r.'.-t actuali.v -;;ch j tvbbob F.ai FFcy would not airain îapp,thde with NFtpo. b-''п: abo F:;^y a kîiuv.i* d-ab tb- Fipb of Fooao only ío the territory «rîïii>iv;ií:*"1 within ib лае bnt límí'4 umbr ií.«* kor/-'; art'i would o - «'<и.Г';is-* and guaranítho trova huho; и wb.ch oiba was rcj< cOah huw*'\t-r, ataí he sii'iivd an ши'ouditional aivi- of him in t):« Feo ílmí In- í hi nidi; и •^b mvit orders lo that, eíbct , X'tí м«л»!Г liad the rbreaî commenced tÍ|,,?! th»; abb* were at the paoo: bat ti!î'Se, ihïvmkd by four of Napoaobs bum fnrwm« е-'пегаК Pornatawskb ^ïac\ ^ith dbtlieulty pait arrows F ^ЬкЬр íüí which !he F ал o s ^o\ a (psarîrr « Í ibc ,n î ■■ bow gun.-, had passed w bas \ ■ ^"iis blown up by аееЬЬо: ^r. '■ ,,г,кт, ív-"api* ho Гц.,,-и ■ Ovaría» íuipooaFb, an-} г-'hi;- ;.. They wiij had the ccuru&*. «..i-b-d their !u»rs*;?4 Jíiíu Í Uli M Ïvan-, 4• íu"¡"0>m. In Fjb ato.aap: .Mac í;i i''lt'dt aad baad'ooF,,; •vdbtiit. Fob sank, The next day Ids bay w - ';"'Î;H* .m Fa- watery pravo u< wb- *ли- *í:*d оеоаеушм if. Whilst " ih«. adíes hbb\a d • F "'I,l('!'^,!:s i¡) pu rabot1' Nan< .■•< .a- '^"oi hm oí l'a H s,' Wbia ■■ p dîJpMfPûit vicbaàcî-: :.. mica I Гморя in r-pain, Xupiib-оц dir'pïib-d i'Vi'.y - ". .ip'ciund with Iii?* adversa! a*r ■ i. Un! гСл'лГ tlu'ir apîHv.ach tow.-. <í;¡ íh, üiVn M.nv'í , lal, buits h wird iht; y.ui.tb ol w;.. a_ . a . Aíld tiicso puiteiiLS Wli:t! íoib.-v, c. ;)y ^h.í maivlmllíís^ Nddhr -, ■ :-. ^nc crowdiror iu oí íriircícn .: "K'uumifd aod hîru-y^îiuî/ - íhdi'í-. Híipoffon'p brothor, Jn«(*ph Bnnapnrb ^h«: cbid* ooirisíiaííd îii l'aid-s ,\od >í,OW' i accüj'di! ídy. the: 0i h Î udcpS bl-df « th«: b;t 'íhi,-; utter was re Hill April, b'll, ab'ih-aï h>!í ai h'r>iitлiribbam, utal Р-,.] îb»* i'ov t r-p.-. wioeh Hill ioaoaiiied w o,, lie Own hvj.iií I í i h" j'.imwv tu ward1- ïr-'v -*auh ol Fraiaaa icíVííc^ U-, a ..tT^n-d by aaícd lijofíaj'iia- tic scv be p-aíd by France ^ Fariü^ :o-рсспн'у fa- *p< J.« írcrly oí' V tili- aíiaírs ta»' ííai^paíjjíO Ib. \vií< very díí of tic Aibtrian and bbírvjí.u y- arrab. bot >pô.c V pv hcjldv i л Fhacïa.'ia tic- F' »ькаь. 4i That cid dcvíl Foe/Leo ■.,'.< ^ iea "pase ha: oicbt îrcnbita It' i' hon oí lie- i'M-ï íop, he «л a^ îloov ;e,/;:!;¡ ?e"X; oa ciiiop; a ao i t Î o- -i4p d с, ¡a :?; < he loerioop, he :a;Ocd Oîcd îei.t. b', apaña bebav ¿dyjht." i le aí,-'"s said that the i •< aj bo !:ad Fetal í'e-O.rcd ?.< ib" tbO-a . v.'.'d'í dc;irc:t» t,f coiiîïdcao'c; "'Oiabie and aííoctaaaah wife on.'pp'SS, an Out, a híéOOüc, '! ЛОО., . too: "o ri'" c'poht i\ • •aovd t iiat Nap' d ^ a* F'O. ce «- mi and bis family , lo'a,oee, and, the | i íh..V.-а'Лм] Ia;oïi XU1L 'O'lcard-Ub, pO,da,aa0i.ca.] !d<'h daclriicd líuO. th.y wniiid Fa hoo/ic lacchaiod a-^oFop f îoacd <<ÏÏ ape 'o wíí ida '-¡a oa; abe-a Ib Wevr, O! 'the -p h . 'í V]; V. !>l К aa-íved, «,-ií F'C !e-Ferrap< t «c rap- ; >; 'Fiас Fe Í..C ca.tía ,¡ 4*' d Ma',;, .ал рЦу. the кос ¡,—earrv- г ан4«е' О У, !аа .bao ía »ar"' .у( «(!*■<. irap г'»а*у rfaaghlf" with аир a by Fac с,h. lo that ¿ím would I Л vaos о îij.»a 1¡\ía^ :a L.Oay! ■da,. í. ha,!í,,Oy ¡ ¡ao:¡ »ич!, dar he asked аЧски^ Jatlv íí' ía "?F :pp,Hlp u<<. rfr . :(;,;Л, ;?| r< p va;h huv,'* ;u»d \va< iadipaiau! ,« ■ ■ abpht be "all-ravd O; so ea ¡b- iro ;ao< íaa* pohyd'' Ломхс »Si;vr;danh- -cFooifchews wus o.e. с mau ]c!jjt"i::o;íc'ioílÍ} aitiaidmg the nobihp,, ;os is aiy Li.tlaap ;md :xa peed :н vour« а г» у «ho-, *• Í in ca:a:vap": i ib î other ín Í-Jílb ín-cja* h",_ ;¡;"- • 'bb a;"c o.' c:er. !;c c„ ;.sit,!< aaad' - V- o aav i rOM\Ti»\V>Kb J'' i were el.pced to i:.-' Fpaa fhe bHjí M.iirb, t!i - -:aoy evereeaoa, J?1 ífí" h^l'owoip - 1*оrate rev,Ivo» and ааое eViO¡ Oad inni laai ac was, ia. buip-r cjupeHO, < di FF-*, he dia-w ap a debaoF ioip stat íïpçr p-p, ;a he wa-' iht- м-Ле obstacle o» Fio pwv oí" France, 1Hv rc^íp! .-d hi- (a ¡ ovo. loavosp' the ai''4.viíf¡¡ .a eis to ha-as'ap aod ib- ayeney !a Faa: "Tiib i-, ao oaiataíací aypo íHoiiilíb;/ h\¡ oái тли/' *• Sir Uvl'^-u1 raí'-e^d!p_*' f íhc.aa'' "1 Feo vour ¡«aolwo" -.cd M i ■"Ta.aa pofn íuvu'^í ib' poya Fea b o,; -cea a au oîFi,;er? 'che аеч^иосг, te; . ,dirO, i a ai aa cal, atea? dtlüp así 214 BOYS OF ENGLAND. [MARCH 1, 1S70. A STRANGE CAREER; OR, THE FORGER'S VICTIM. CHAPTER XXIX.—(continued). ENDLE walked about the room for a few minutes in profound thought, and then, muttering to himself, said, "Let me rehearse my plans, eo that no hitch may occur at the final moment. I have de- cided to leave England for ever, for, in the chapter of accidents, something may some day turn up against me. Boylston is gone to France to secure the estate I have purchased, and Hatton will be down to-morrow afternoon with my bos and papers, and, that drunken fool, Barton, I did not mean to have, recourse to him in this in- stance ; but it is plain that Cissy will never consent willingly to become my wife, so Barton must aid me, as he has done before, with his potions." Towards the evening he visited Cissy, and in the short interview he had with her, he found sufficient to confirm him in his opinion that he coujd possess her only by stratagem. The next day Hatton and Professor Barton, as he was termed, arrived. Hatton's countenance at once showed Pendle that something had hap- pened inimical to his interests, and, taking him intff a private room, he began to question him; but Hatton- evaded a reply by placing in his hands a copy of that day's paper. Pendle opened it. He started with alarm at the heading— "Reprieve! Strange disclosures I" And then, with every feature and gesture bespeaking his extreme terror, he read a full account of all that had taken place the previous day, the discoveries in his own house included. The transformation from Pendle, happy in the successful progress of his schemes, to Pendle in terror ; from his sleepy, lounging attitude to one of rage and fury, was so sudden and unaccount able that it filled'Hatton with amazement. He sprang back suddenly, and increased the distance between himself and the enraged man before him by at least three yards. "Go! Leave the room !" he shouted, "I will ring presently." Pendle staggered to a chair, and sank into it, trembling violently ; the paper dropped from his nerveless hands, and a profuse perspiration covered his whole body. For some few minutes he sat thus, then, by one of those wonderful"efforts of desperate men, he rose up, and his agitation passed away. "I am a fool," hersaid, in his old, calm wayL "What need for alarm? It is evident they know not where to find me, and in a few hours I shall be safe orí board the packet. I must hurry matters oh." He rang the bell, and, on Hatton" appearing, desired him to show Mr. Barton mj4 and then go and amuse himself in the kitchen until he should require him. Professor Barton was a tall man, with- long black hair falling over his shoulders; his features were sharp, and his eyes black and piercing, flitting about in restless activity. He walked towards Pendle, and held out his hand, exclaiming; in a pleasant, rich voice—1 "Holloa, Pendle/ how are you?" Pendle returned -the greeting, and asked his visitor to take a seat. "So you've sent'for me;'' said the professor, "to throw the ceremony of holy matrimonias a cloud before the eyes of some fair damsel? Ah I you're a wicked fellow. Then you've föund another victim?" "I may as well tell you at once, Barton, that I love this girl," said Pendle. The professor looked at Pendle, and then gave a short laugh, and exclaimed— "Why, the Nile is flowing backwards, the pyramids" arc turned upside down, palm trees are gowing at the North Pole. Cornelius Pendle in love 1 The man of the stony heart, of the iron brain, enslaved by a girl I Who is it, Pendle?" "I told Hatton to give you soda water; but I think he has been letting" you choose your own' drink." "No, upon my honor," said the professor; "he has supplied mo with soda-water only—treated me, in fact, as if I were a mere beer barrel." "You're not much better," said Pendle. .! "Perhaps not; but you see, being a beer barrel, I have no heart to lose to any plotting young minx. Now, to look at you, Pendle, there's as much gloom about you as there is in a November fog. But, I say, Pendle, how about the affair in to-day's papers?" 411 am going to leave England, and I wish to take this girl with me; but there's a difficulty. She will not consent, and I do not want to use force." "Of course not, only a little gentle compul- sion you know, veiled over by stratagem. But, before we go any further, I must have some refreshment. I have had nothing for three mortal hours, only some soda-water, two glasses of beer and two sips of brandy." u We>l, what will you have?" "Champagne, my boy. Bless you, Bcaulieu House -and champagne, are to me a sort of Siamese twins." ■ ■, - After'the wine-had been brought in, and the prof essor had helped himself'out of" a tumbler, he said— "Now, Pendle, let's to business. I believe 1 am to marry you to this girl?" "Yes; but I don't wish to use any violence."' "Whyf you're getting maudlin. You never were like this before." "Well, what shall I do?" asked Pendle. "Does she know you love her?" "No." "Then how the deuce do you know whether she won't love you in return?" il Because she seemed so occupied with regret for another man; for this Oscar Merivale. But she's a sweet girl and I must have her." "Then what do you propose to do?" "I have not yet come to a conclusion how to act," said Pendle. "I'll tell you what to do. Drink two or three bottles of this champagne, and, if you don't pop the question to the girl in two two's, my name isn't Tom Barton." "Getting drunk has always been your panacea for every difficulty." "Well, it is astonishing," said the professor, "what grand thoughts come into your head when you've indulged in a good draught of generous wine." "Oh î I forgot that," said Pendle, sarcasti- cally, "Time is flying. Can't you suggest any- thing?" "Take her away to-night, as you intended to." "How?" "Either use force, or—now comes the great weapon of nature—use a little narcotic. She would notice^ nothing, perhaps, till you got to Paris." "That would make her sleep; but could I travel with her asleep. The master of the packet—people at the railway stations, would notice her strange state." "Yes," said the professor, swinging his legs off the chair and assuming an upright position, as he'looked at Pendle. "Yes, if you gave her too much. Give her just a dose to deaden the mirttl, and while she's like that, I'll marry you. She will sign her name to the contract, with me guiding her hand. After that, when she comes round, what can she do, you know?" "But where's the drug that will benumb her power of reasoning, and yet leave her the power of volition?" "I have got it; I always have it with me. Give her a glass of wine and put three drops in it out of this bottle." The professor handed a small phial to Pendle, and the latter took it, saying— "Well, Ï think your plan will work. You're not such a fool aftei all, Bartom" "No,1 no ; you've got a great deal to learn yet, Pendle," said the professor, assuming an air of mock importance. "You söe it is astonishing what grand ideas come into the head when under the influence of wine." "I'll go and give it her now. You come with me. I will introduce you as the clergyman of the village. You'll see if she is not enough ta turn any man's head." "If she is or not, I am not going until this- bottle is finished. Come, you've had none; here, drink to your young queen." "No," said Pendle, "you can take my share." The professor emptied the bottle into the tumbler, drank it, and then followed Pendle. When they had left the, room and the sounds of their retreating footsteps along the corridor had died away, the door of a cupboard in the room opened slowly and old Maria stepped forth. Believing Pendle would ask Barton into his own room, she secreted herself in a cupboard, of which she kept the key. For two hours she. was confined in a most uncomfortable position, but at last was rewarded by hearing the details of the plot. She looked hastily around the room, and then stealthily followed in the footsteps of Pendle and the professor. CHAPTER XXX. PENDLE RECEIVES SOME UNWELCOME VISITOBS. Pendle led the professor to the Turkish Cham- ber. In that room Cissy was generally to be found. The-deep solitude of the place suited her. "She is not here," said Pendle ; "but no doubt she will be here immediately. We41 go into the shrubbery, and Teturn again presently. She will be here then. Stop; I have thought of a'better plan. I will get à bottle of wind and put the drug in, and leave it on the table in the other room; then, when we return, I'll ring? for old Maria, and tell her to fetch it." "Yes. That's a decided improvement, espe- cially if you order two.or three more bottles up for us at night, When it's all over and you're gone. I shall require great support; you-know.'*1 Pendle laughed, and they-left the -Turkish, Chamber together. When they had gone, Maria! moved out of a* .recess in the passage just by the'door.. She had heard that ' the professor was coming,. and felt that his visit boded ho good to Cissy. When they left the room to seek for Cissyv she- followed. At first she thought of hastening to Cissy, whom- she knew would be in her bed-room, and reveal- ing to her the whole affair; but, as she stopped to listen behind the recess in the corridor, she heard Pendle's new plan of doctoring the cham- pagne. Pendle returned to his own apartment. He rang the bell, and ordered a bottle of" champagne, which Hatton brought up. Pendle opened it, put in what, according to- the professor's directions, was a proper quantity of the drug, and then partially re-corked the bottle. He then scratched a mark on the tin- foil, so that he could recognize the bottle again, and placed it on the table, and he and the pro- fessor retired into the garden; Maria had been watching. She went into the cellar, procured another bottle, uncorked it, and scratched the tinfoil, so as to correspond with thé scratch on the other bottle, and then exchanged therm She went to her own room and loeked the bottle that Pendle had drugged in'a drawer. As she turned the key, she exclaimed' between her teeth— "It's odd to me, Mr. Cornelius Pendle; if you don't takö niorè of that wine than you would like." . . /:i ; ;. When Pendle and the professor returned to- the Turkish Chamber, they found- Cissy aloné. * Pendle: introduced the professor as the Rev* Mr. Watson, the rector of the parish. The'professor took, a seat on the velvet cushion, a little distance from Cissy, and casting towards her a glance of admiration, exclaimed, "Dear me, I was quite ignorant I possessed so> faif a parishioner. I find my flock is enriched- with a priceless jewel." "No humbug, no twaddle—she's too sensitivo* for that," whispered Pendle. Cissy blushed, and rising, said, "You will excuse my retiring, sir. I am nofc well." jtARCH lt 1870.3 215 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "No, no," said Pendle; "don't go, my dear Cissy. 1 asked Dr. Watson to visit us, thinking a little change would do you good." "You'rp very kind, sir," returned Cissy ; "but I really am unwell." "Then you need the more sympathy," said the professor. "Pray don't rob us of a presence that casts such a sweet influence over one. How long have you been here, Miss Armitage?" "Some days, It seems very long." "I believe I have never noticed you in our little church." "She has never been out yet, doctor," said pendle, "Unfortunately, Miss Armitage has just suffered a terrible misfortune." "Indeed, I am sorry to hear that. But I am sure. Miss Armitage, you know that this world is merely a resting place on our long journey to a great hereafter." Cissy looked at the professor. A bright smile of thankfulness flashed across her sweet, inno- cent face. His words soothed her troubled soul. "My dear girl," said the professor, moving close to_her side, and taking her hand; "my dear Miss , Armitage, living, as we all do, subject to immediate death—living, as it may seem, like beings on a slippery precipice, whence we may at any" time slip into the dark grave, it behoves us to perpetually keep in view-that bright, glorious future ; yet, at the samé time, it is our duty to bear our ills with resignation and fortitude;"-: /, v: Two large tears gathered in Cissy's eyes, and stood lingering on her long * eyelashes,' and then trickled like dewdrops upon her pale cheek. "I do ;bear my misfortune with resignation,'' she said,1 irî a low; measured tone, "but I can't help my 'spirits being depressed. I do not murmur." Л "Come, come," said the professor, dropping his solemn- manner andf speaking in a gayer tone; "come, my dear' girl, I must take you under my especial' care; I must see after you. AVe're going to have a regatta next week, and you must come with mc and Mrs. Watson, and jay daughters, and see it. You want society. That's right; dry those pretty eyes. You will excuse my familiarity, Miss Armitage, I am sure, but I should wish you to become the companion of my daughters/' Pendle rang the bell. Hatton appeared, and was requested to fetch the bottle from the table in the breakfast* room. "Will you take a glass of wine¿ doctor ?" said Pendle. "Will Miss Armitage join us?" "I hope so," said Pendle; "It's very whole- some." He poured out three glasses, and handed one to Cissy. She drank half. The professor arose from his seat, and walked into the Pompeian Court, where he pretended to admire the fountain, the rose trees, and the banging bundles of grapes. Pendle arose and joined him, leaving Cissy still sitting on the cushion. When he reached the professor, the latter observed— "She's drank half a glass." "Is that sufficient?" asked Pendle. "Quite; in a quarter of an hour her brain ought to yield to its influence, and then wb can manage." "Isn't she a sweet creature ?" asked Pendle. (t Well, there's no doubt about that," said the professor. "Her face is like an angel I used to dream of when I was a little boy. Why didn't you tell hêr you loved her?" "It would be a pity to abandon ourplan now, ^ould it: not Г' said Pendle. 11 Of course ; we'll go through with it." They sat conversing, occasionally glancing towards' the spot where Cissy was sitting; to see the drug was taking effect. t "PU set the organ to work," said Pendle; * that may assist the wine in throwing a cloud °ver her brain." . He touched'a spring in one of the pillars, and ^mediately a rich, grand swell of majestic music "Hed the two chambers. koiac time passed, and the professor pulled °ut his watch. "A quarter of an hour has passed," said he. "I am afraid the wine is not sufficiently drugged." "I put in what you told mc." "When do you say you want to leave England?" "This evening." ", 4 "That is, in about two or three hours?" "Yes." "¡Well, it's evident the drug has failed. Fetch the bottle, and pretend'to give me a glass of wine. I'll put some more into a glass myself, and coax her to drink it." "But suppose the effects last all day to- morrow?" "When I have solemnly joined you in holy matrimony," said the professor, with a subdued laugh, " I can administer something that will counteract the drug." "Well, that will settle it at once ; - but it will not injure her, will it? Mind, I trust to you, Barton." "Tut,-tut I/ Jt won't injure her, of course." Pendle fetched the bottle, and the professor standing with his back to Cissy put in a further dose .of the'drug." . "*" , :Дhen pouring out ;a glass, he walked - towards Cissy, and placed the bottle and: thé glass before her.;' THE - LAST OP PENDLE AND HATTON.Í The sudden appearance of Oscar and his "friends convinced* Pendle that his career was in danger of being closed, and that1 the last and most cherished of his schemes had signally failed, and he was no sooner clear of the grasp of the de- tectives than he had matured his plan of escape. He knew the house well, and had always thought it probable that he might some day be outwitted by the law, and at Beaulieu Place he had prepared for himself a secret means of escape. He was aware of the existence of the cavern beneath the house, although, strange as it may seem, he had never thought that a thin partitióri of woodwork, and one single layer of bricks, was , all that separated it from the Pompeian Court. While the house was being rebuilt: under his directions, he had found a communication in a cellar with the cavern beneath the iousé, ;and 'it was here that he had Ordered a secret entrance'to . be made. . When Pendle and his companion disappeared in the dark corridor, he knew he was safe, л л When he arrived at the éndiof the passage, he pressed a spring,, and thewliole end wall,: from side to side, and from floor to. roof; turned, on'a vertical central axis. He and Hatton slipped through one side, arid closed it again, and then stood "and listened. 'Presently he heard the officers come blunder-. ing against the end of the passage. "Why, it doesn't go any further. Here's the: end of the passage," said a voice. "Get a light," said another voice. "He must have slipped past us back again," . said the other. Pendle stopped while they examined the placé: with a light. He could see it glimmering through • the sides of the swing door. „ • After a little while they all left¿ and the light disappeared; ., "I thought they wouldn't discover that," ' said Pendle, breathing a sigh of relief. "Follow me, and be careful," he added to Hatton. "We shall baffle them now." He turned round, and moved cautiously: forward. After two or three steps he reached a .ladder, which he'descended. When he arrived at the bottom he felt about, and found a lantern .and matches in; a nitch, which had been always kept there for an occasion like the présent; . When the lantern was alight, he looked round. He was in the cavern, and the earthy sides/' floor, and roof, the chilly atmosphère, and the damp, earthy smell were strangely in contrast4 "ТОМ .-T¡:rn. Г!' 7¡¡K Kf.l.WiW'V Л KM H'í>I)i;St,T," ГОШ LESTER: O Ii, 'toe ьксикт о к тик í;j-:i* 1^гь:кт.поок. By the Auíh'/r oí Ce ¡av.: V- » ШЛ/' ci {л Pi с к vil (y^nfinuni.i i ;UN" .¡\('i':^:iM!" .Cnmied Sin- clair, nnming aft. "Clear awav я boat, there! Quick, hvl:'l What is the use of a h, at that is never ready when II waan-d?" ТЬ:.< * i u *. • t ion was prompted by я state of thir.jr^ which? rrmst ofbii have Ъ«ч'!( оЬч-rvod by iho*e oí' • ni; ГеаЬоГЯ who h.tV'v made a '«< a v-*yayef and whieh , the humane onde proceeded ь. isanedy as , promptly îsh i?■ .-sit-I<- by я fi-и* un- ol" hU knife. 44 11 it v i • a саго, there, ?e r. Sinclair !*' >hon!ed . Captain Unwhч\ anyrby. *k Yoa .ч-eni to think j that cordata* and <:;и;v;¡> еоч umhin?/' - "Thaï ГмС Su: и ч ..Г o-rdaae wis* п и шааС , ob« is bí danee-r, Captain ри*у>г!" « х«-!аЬкч1 j tin; ehie! eíhe>n*, snapping is liners with an air j of indi«.rnath»n,' i » Very wrU, чг! we will have a b miv* erefhor wbi'i, \\o rerep. Cab'uttu. Mr, >,iu"ia;i Г* < ivhy/ned tin- ''aj-Mtii', famine Parn>adva' ibek had ran to ihtwdde on heaih;¿ tin-alarm 0Í Tom's tail, and saw his young nias! obg head bibbing up and down amidst Um fo¡mi-oro4'»d Ч-avcs and t'a Ihn}? oveîy mmnem. further ак!егп i.í liai ha4.dnvmy snip. The \ ouny --ador eae"r]y y«>iuntoen o to pud an oar m the b* Лт^А'ти fur his Ufe with tía* Я.-ицЛачЬ- d bbCw4 Tbey euu',d iusl ч-е IV-sibs ¡abe face, with ilea p?/lit. haïr wav'íntf o\vr hí« forehead and even . »hat was every now and thni Ь.ч to >ight as he -;oik into thc'trou/ii of the <-en. They had lo pul! aeam.ö tía- cam ne nmním* doubly Htroiiir a'acíu- 1 he ijdben.ea oí ira- !bл i-"L- ч,rdh< rii ЫаЧ, ала! ¡t ;4îvm< d \<> Ide.K, as be « \»ту m.wiit panred over hi> .чЬ<>пЬЬ'Г. thai s h*', d,i4aviijie( yoaf h wí'hjIí] )ji;ver ;<<- f*i,:ai:bi-ib "W-* are í"h laie!" Haid <-ne «d the lurrt, as la< b'i.bd í.ehííai bina '-vrr :]н- waste «Л waîea-: •Mia р-н,* lad !ia> i.r"íí" b«.wn!" "What Ь" 1 h:ii î" "xe!auti< d bbeb. Manatí, whiî íí had*d'rs-,rbî''îa'b, h-ok, inte lb<' trfn:;jb ..f* ti; 'ладе. *• TL.-'.n- ííbe apy.air" 1 be пел:. dteâiif be еХ'Ь the гп-stof a> >ome. •a the dowra,varil ^ Мач-г 'I win! i'ab b:u'«b b-r tïter-'y's >ake Иг- ppbe." i::,. -лй" -ibbi^ ■»;>' aífi!,e !a-\t М!.'лг, b¡- » any b;eb-'i' ',:ла-| < <í lia ^ai;^;¡b- -a' ih«'- Ьаа íbaasy u ,íh ¡as Imí band, and iba i be , li/l' .. -j '-a 'T.. m - ь;. г, а - а.,- а;еа;!а»' а!,1у tbe»; - b''«iy -ла1- aî'-a.'-bl'' by îae evirfaî. î ! a uv' i],. r »a.-'la-: • a j-aií "f araa^ ¡ bn-aí/а'''Ь î¿r¡a ial о I be h< >aî, \ 1 »1C¡, hearl b-als Г *->:"!ah»--d Dieb, p!:¡e¡;ej' ,bi< baa»I (Hirbn- I- ft Ьг.-аЧ, ana le,-,ne:; î l;aap ^1 ble! tie u;ah bíek-aaea! v^b j;ot y,a i / xi !a,aad"'d. ** W naiv a.v" h.a. ум, ;f -.ve i s ab ear Ьи.-ni ,d h* Cíe baile" í' Tía* aeer he4 wa> la;d «b-wa ;u ba- boH«>m aí j tb-' b- a'f. wan h¡- la-ab^aab ,чаа;!.;аа^' мггу-гЬ d I aeabi-t a Ca wart, ai;d Ce-beaC- i^-ud \v¡a íarr.ed '¡ le wards 1 he ddp. TI aw ware a leaa-iwaiy as'enin arid, though tb¡-y ! baM î\-<- ad\a«aaiw "î* r< »'Л bej Wîtb {}„. еагема , j tíaw ba.l a ïeî:y aîai hard pad la,-* ay the\ Wi re ; caa-à: more ah-n^^'ide the " Ibaidea-a." I l*1пе!;пГ ;Ч îipp<-d C.il ha-, yo-! :{ \ he е.. n wat- iiaiainyr a gun in thu r!i.reetioa of IIa.,-., advaiaad^ir column <»i* waiter, **Fir<' !" cried ' 'apiain IVwa-r. A pritï ff wàdîe --шоке rose from the ship's hale, and a brad report rang over the оеешп Vilajii the ,4!ieke had ekaii'eb away the water. Hu '-î! Ua' H'M-n to have ilifiapp^ared. The /ale *Lui: aíiia-wards'bíaaaat in abate, and !;efo:e ahaaî eau no on the *' îï<.adî'eea " wa« coia;;- endty betöre the wir.d under reeîVd top-anaC CiíAFIJiid Vidd. Л](ЛХЬ.)М,1) ON ЛХ taMMfAi.irsa; lSi^.No. Том Liás'CMi recovered 4'.dekly foua the eibaus of bis In га/ bia:aer.:d.uJï in the waíe¡ lu.ar to dea'Jt a.- be аррГ-aríd when he was piekod up. ЛГст 'the CTidie ,<;aîe wbdeh the ""Поаоеч a M one.saiiCa'.-d in. the- Maxamibpao (!ЬаноеЬ fair weather ppwailed U>i^ a '^on^alerable p-ra>d» and in due Cane Mie arrived to t).c ,o n.it.bwarei u( the lontr trwap of titile island* "ktaavn a¿ the ;M,dbjvcs. ; i!hcr« was a h^tit breeze blowing on the srsr- : h. íe¡. -e.po as Ca- .-hip gradually íirew inven : to :C verdanf, a]ioro% j Yes, vir !*" re-.-porideci oar boro» I "Take a boat and row aérese to the island s yonder," ыай the eaphnm... ** I. Сшеу sonne td'esh ! veteadnos inhrht he !!;Cre» What do vou 'think, Mr. Oliver ?n 218 BOYS OF ENGLAND. [МАПСП 1, 1870. "I have not a doubt of it, sir," replied the I second mate. "Away with you, then," continued Captain: Bowler, turning to our hero again. "You may! take Dick witn you, and—let mc sec—young Snowball there." Young Snowball, as he was facetiously termed by every one aboard the ship, was a Secdi youth, one of a tribe of negroes occupying a portion of the Mozambique coast, and noted for their muscular strength and their capacity for continued exertion. "Aye, aye, sir !" responded Tom Lester, and in a few minutes a boat was lowered, and he was seated in the stern, while pick and the young negro were rowing in the direction of the island. "What do you think of this, Dick ?" inquired our hero, when they were a little distance from the ship. "Why, that thé old grampus either thinks wc are not likely to run away upon these islands, or else wishes us to do so," returned Dick; "I do not know that this would not be a better chance than we arc likely to have in Calcutta," said Tom; "remember Table Bay!" "Just my opinion, Master Tom," rejoined Dick. They were silent after this until they had run the boat ashore upon a sandy beach. "You mind the boat, Snowball," said Tom Lester, as he leaped out upon the sand. "Aye, aye, massai" responded the young negro. Accompanied by Dick, our hero walked away from the boat towards a thick jungle of shrubs, interspersed with aloes and prickly creepers of the cactus kind. "Look out for snakes, Dick !" observed Tom, as they turned into the jungle. "Oh, lor !" exclaimed Dick, leaping backward, and turning pale. r \ "Come on," said Torn,laughing. "We have got to look for fresh vegetables, yoit know." Dick followed our hero cautiously into the jungle, where they disturbed, at almost every step, a harmless green lizard; but did not en- counter any reptile, or, indeed, any animal more formidable. Birds were numerous, and wheeled around their heads in flocks, or darted singly from shrub to shrub, their gaudy plumage flashing in the sunlight like winged jewels. "Why, Master Tom," said Dick, watching the birds, as they walked through the jungle, "there be more different kinds of birds here than ever .1 zeed about the cliffs round by Colonel Finney's." "If wc had but a gun, wc shouldnot want for food here," observed Tom, reflectively. "Be you thinking about it, Master Tom?" said his companion, looking anxiously into his face. "About running away?" "Aye, Master Tom." "We should be in the track of vessels going to or from Iridia and the Cape," said Tom, afier a pause. "But I don't zee anything to eat, Master Tom," returned Dick—" nothing, leastways, as wc could catch; vor, unless wc could put zalt on the birds' tails, or take the vishes out of the water with our hands, there mout as well be naythef birds in the air nor vishes in the zea." "We have got the boat," continued Tom, "and, at the worst, wc could row northwards" amongst these islandsY and if we did not fall in with a sail there, wc might find hospitable natives on some of them;" "You know whát is the best thing to do, Master Tom," rejoined Dick. "I zaid as how I'd stand by you to the end of the world, and zo I will." "Suppose we get Ъаск to the boat, then, and go on to the next island, in case Captain Bowler should send for us—though I think that is scarcely probable," observed our hero. "With all my heart, Master Tom," returned Dick. They accordingly retraced their steps, and were riot long in reaching the boat. "We-arc going round to the next island, Snowball," said Tom, as they stepped into the boat "Aye, aye, Massa Lester," responded the young negro; and again the boat was impelled over the rippled bosom of the calm sea. The " Boadicea" was moving slowly through the water, on the starboard tack, so that she was as near the island as when the boat had left her side. As the boat was pulled round the western side of the island, however, the ship was soon hidden from the sight of our young explorers by the island, and only became visible to them again when they had rowed some distance to the northward. The ship did not seem to have made much way since they had left her. "The old grampus seems tó expect us back," observed Dick, as all three looked towards her. "He could not decently get up steam as soon as we were gone," rejoined Tom. "If he had a; sinister purpose in sending us here, it must have been to tempt us to run away." "Look, Master Tom 1" exclaimed Dick, whose eyes were still fixed on the ship, "he is shorten- ing zail!" "Why, what is this?" said our herb, looking" around in surprise. Taking off his straw hàt; and holding it above his head, he saw that the narrow blue ribbon that dangled from it was moved towards his face by the breeze. i "We are just getting into the north-east trade ; wind," said he, as he covered his light curly hair again. "That is the meaning of the manœuvre." j Before they had reached the nearest of two low green islets, similar to the one which they had left behind/ a'columrf of dark smoke began to issue from the funnel ef' the u Boàdicea," and ¡ she continued her course at accelerated speed,; while her square sails were furled one by one i and heir jibs hauled down. "So far well !" exclaimed Tom Lester, as he j saw her steaming away to the north-eastward. I "Now wc have only got to keep a sharp look- \ out for a passing vessel." j The boat was shortly afterwards pulled into a! small creek, and hauled up on the beach, beyond . the reach of the tide. The Seedi looked from one to the other in- quiringly, but without exhibiting any symptoms of anxiety. "Now, my lads," said Tom, cheerily, "we must \ see what the island affords in the way of food, and whether there is any fresh water to be found. He led the way up the sloping beach, and entered a jungle, differing only.from the one of which the island first explored consisted in con- taining a greater number of palms. Fresh water was found in the centre of the island, where there was a small pool of it: but the fruits were limited to berries, the natur'e of which they were unacquainted with. As they emerged from the jungle on the farther side of the island they came upon a largo crab, which immediately began to move towards the sea. In a moment Dick had turned the creature over with his foot, and in another his knife had terminated its existence. "Now we shall dine luxuriously" said Tom, rubbing his hands. "Gather some dry wood, lads, and we shall soon have a fire." Dick, who indulged in a pipe of tobacco occasionally, had in his jacket pocket'thc means of procuring a light, and in a few minutes a fire was blazing on the beach, and sending up a tall column of blue smoke. The crab was cooked in the embers, and fur- nished them with a plentiful meal. Then they rested in the shade of a palm tree, and afterwards walked round the beach to the Spot where they had left the boat. CHAPTER IX. A CRUISE AMONG ТПЕ MALDIVES. THE "Boadicea" had long been out of sight. The lads made a largó heap of dry wood upon the beach, and lighted it at nightfall in the hope of attracting attention from some passing vessel. Tom undertook the first watch, and Dick and the Secdi laid down to sleep under the boat, which they turned over for the purpose. ] It was a weary vigil, pacing that low beach till midnight, hearing no sound but the melan- choly surging of the tide over the sand, seeing nothing but the dusky jungle on one side, and the dark sea on the other, and having nothing to vary the monotony of the task but the occasional stopping to throw more branches on the fire. Midnight came at length, and then our here- called up the Secdi, and laid himself down under the boat by the side of Dick. When he awoke the sun was shining brightly, and Dick was looking about the beach for another crab. The search being unsuccessful, they were forced to breakfast upon a species of mussel, of which they found a considerable number, and found not unsavoury when cooked in the embers of their signal-fire. "Now, my lads," said*Tom, when the repast was concluded, "as we are as likely to be picked up by a vessel coming from Bombay as by one going to or from Calcutta or Madras, suppose we get the boat into the water, and visit the islands farther to the northward?" Dick assented, as hè would have assented to anything that was proposed by our hero; the boat was turned over upon its keel, and pushed down to the water. Tom sat down in the stern to steer, and Dick arid Snowball took the oars. I This time' they rowed "to the eastward, in order to be in the track óf vessels going to or from Bombay, until they had the'island on tkeir leftr when they pulled tp the northward.1 They were* soon close upon the second island which they had seen. the previous day, but, as its aspect did not differ from that of the one upon which they had passed tlie night, they*did, not land upon it, but continued their voyage northward, in which direction they could see another island; blue and indistinct by distance, but evidently larger than either of those which they had passed. As they drew nearer they perceived that the island before them rose to a greater elevation than the others, and that trees, mostly palms, grew more thickly upon it. "Dcre are men dare!" exclaimed Snowball, looking over his shoulder. "Me see smoke." "Where, Snowball ?" inquired Tom, making a telescope of his right hand and looking through it. "Dere away, Massa Lester," replied Snowball, pointing towards a central spot in the island. "Dere, where de cocoa-nut palms grow thicker." "Snow is right," said Tom, after straining his eyes for some moments in the direction indicated. "I can see the smoke curling up between the palms. Pull into the little cove yonder, arid we will see what the natives are like." This was accordingly done, and Snowball was left in charge of the boat whilst Tom and'Dick proceeded in the direction in which the smoke' had been seen. landing a track through the wood, which had evidently been made by human feet, they fol- lowed it until they saw the conical thatched- roofs of three or four huts. Almost as soon as these indications of the presence of human beings became visible, three short and slightly formed men, whose dusky olive skins were covered only by a piece of white cotton, reaching from the hips to the middle of the thighs, were seen advancing cauti- ously towards them, v Tom held out his hands, to show that he was unarmed, and continued to advance. The natives seemed more at their ease as they came nearer, and the oldest of them addressed Tom in a language of which he didfnet under- stand a word, He, therefore, pointed towards the south, by way of telling them where he and his com- panions had come from, and then opened his mouth and pointed a finger towards "it, to express their want of food. The spokesman of the natives nodded, and spoke a few words to one of his tribe, who im- mediately ran towards /the huts and returned in a few minutes with half-a-dozen large cocoa- nuts, which he held: out.for our hero's acceptance. Tom immediately cracked one of the nuts with , a large s$one, and shared it with Dick,-both' finding :the milky liquid which it contained verv March l, iS7o.j 219 BOYS OF ENGLAND. refreshing, after being so long on the ocean* under a tropical sun. The old man then made signs to them to go a^ay, at the same time pointing towards the north. They returned to their boat, followed by the natives, and were again directed towards the north, where, as they understood the old man's pantomime, there was an island, or islands, with a larger number of inhabitants than they had seen there. Once more, therefore, Dick and Snowball plied their oars, and before the island was below ■ the horizon two more were in view, the most remote of which was larger than the one they had touched at last, which its superficial charac- ter closely resembled. The setting sun was reddening the rippled surface of the ocean, when they rowed into a little creek of the larger island, upon the beach of which several of the natives, women as well as men, were collected. The presence of women, and the fact that the men were unarmed, inspired our young explorers with confidence. They all left the boat, which they pulled up on the beach, and were immediately surrounded by the natives, who examined them with curio- sity, and seemed to be asking them a number of questions with great volubility, Tom endeavoured to make thqm understand, by signs, that he and his companions had lost their, ship; and sought. hospitality until Some passing vessel should, take them away. One oí? the. natives, who seemed to be of some consequence; amongst his countrymen,- nodded two or three times whilst Tom was speaking, and then addressed the others, to whom he seemed to be explaining the circumstances, as he understood them, in which the strangers were placed. Then he linked an arm in one of Tom's, and led him into a village of such huts as they had seen on the island at which they had touched in the morning. Tom was taken into the chief man's house, and Dick and the Seedi youth into others ad- joining, and all three were hospitably regaled with broiled fowl and some kind of grain, boiled till soft. Then mats were spread for them, upon which they laid down, and slept till morning. They were on the beach, early, scanning the horizon, where they saw a t large vessel, sailing northward, but at a great distance. They kept a sharp* lo6k-out during the day, but no other vessel passed within sight. Oh the following morning, on rising from his mat, Tom found his host in conversation with a tawny, wiry-looking man, wearing a white cotton turban, a kind of cloak of blue and white striped cotton, and full white drawers of the same white material. The stranger turned a pair of keen dark eyes upon our hero as he rose from his couch, and as he held out his right hand to him the opened cloak disclosed a pair qf silver-mounted pistols stuck into a broad girdle, and a crooked sword hanging Дэу his side. Tom shook the brown hand of the stränger, and his host then took his arm on one side, and the strangers on the other, and walked down to the beach between them, talking volubly to the latter all the way. At a little distance from the island a vessel was lying at anchor which Snowball, who, with Öick, had followed them down to the beach, pronounced it an Arab dhow, one of a numerous class of vessels employed in'the Red Sea'and the western waters of the:Inciiah Oceanj The armed stranger pointed to the' dhow, and then to himself, as if-to inform our herb'that he was the commander of the vessel; after which be pointed northward. "РетЬарз he means that he is going to Bombay," Tom observed to his compánións. *'Do these fellows ever go to Bombay, Snow- ball?" u Yes, Massa Lester," replied the negro youth. "Take millet (1ère, and cloves, and aloes." "But some of them are engaged in the slave trade, Snowball," observed Tom, in a dubious tone. "Slaves go' to Muscat, Massa Lester," rejoined Snowball. "Maldives not in de proper track for-oat port. Tink sure she go to Bombay.'* "We will chance itj Dick," observed Tom; and on the Arab captain glancing inquiringly at him, pointing at the same jtime towards a boat that луаэ approaching the shore, he nodded. The Arab captain waved his hand towards the boat as it'touched the beach, and made a salaam, which Tom interpreted as an invitation to-enter; and accordingly, after shaking hands with his dusky host, stepped into the boat. Dick and the Seedi followed, and when the captain had taken his seat, the tawny rowers dipped their oars into the water again, and pulled towards the dhow. CHAPTER X. ABOARD THE DHOW. Tom threw an observant glance around the deck as he stepped aboard the dhow. He did not expect to find the same degree of cleanliness and order as on board the "Boa- dicea," and we scarcely need say that he was not agreeably surprised in that respect. The deck was dirty, and an unpleasant odour came up the open hatchways* Four stout Arabs were engaged in lifting the anchor, and another was promenading the dis- orderly deck with a long cane in his hand. There were a couple of small brass guns aboard, and the man with the cane had a pistol in his girdle, and a crooked sword, like that of the captain, at his side. "Can she be a war-vessel belonging to the Sultan of Zanzibar, or the Imaum of Muscat, I wonder?" our hero observed to Dick, as the young sailor followed him. Before Dick could reply, the captain laid a tawny hand upon Tom's right :arm, and led him into, the cabin. Here the' fittings and furniture were better than our hero had expected to find them, though of a different kind to such as are found aboard European vessels. ■ Coifee was brought in by a negro boy, who salaamed and retired immediately, and the captain added to the tray some dark-looking biscuitSj which, however, proved palatable enough. While munching a biscuit and sipping his coifee, our hero pointed out to the'captain the Maldive Islands upon a rudely executed chart hanging up in the cabin, and then traced the course of the "Boadieea" from the lake to Calcutta. The Arab* appearing to understand him, he placed the tip of his forefinger on the Arabic character indicating Bombay, and looked inquir- ingly in his swarthy countenance. The Arab shook his head. Goa, to the southward, and Kurrachce, to the northward, of Bombay were pointed out' by Tom with the same result. At no other port to the northward was it pro- bable that a European vessel would be found, and it was with no small degree of -anxiety that Tom saw the Arab skipper raise a brown fore- finger, and place it on a spot on the chart which, from its position on the southern shore of the Gulf of Oman, he knew must indicate Muscat. Tom involuntarily shrugged his shoulders. "Dick," said he, stepping out of the cabin, (t we are bound for Muscat 1" Thcf young sailor caught the infection of our hero's look, and looked grave ; ^ot because he had anjr idea of the objections to such a' desti- nation, for his knowledge rof geography was too limited for that, but because Tom looked grave. They looked towards the island, which was already1 receding from them, and saw that the dhow was sailing to the north-west on the star- board tack. At that moment a woolly head appeared above the hatchway, and a gaunt-looking negro came up, with-no more clothing on than our hero had seen worn by the Maldive Islanders. The negro's bare feet were no sooner upon the deck than' another woolly head appeared. The recollection of what Snowball had said as to Muscat being the port of disembarkation of the slave trade in those seas crossed the mind of our hero as, one after another, a hundred almost naked negroes came up the hatchway, and.began to trot, in a listless manner, up and down the deck. "What be this, Master Tom?" inquired Dick, in a doleful voice. "We are aboard a slaver, Dick," replied Tom. "That is what it means.; and we arc bound to a port where there is no chance of our finding a British vessel, unless, by the greatest good luck, one of the cruisers in these seas for the sup- pression of this sad traffic in ' human flesh and blood should happen to be there on a special mission." The Arab with the long cane now made his- appearance, and kept the wretched captives in motion for the good of their health, which was- not likely to .be promoted by confinement in close quarters, in the fetid and stifling atmosphere of the hold. The man looked at Snowball, who kept close, to Dick, as if he was occupied with л mental valuation of the lad for the slave market, and then made some observation in Arabic to the; captain, who at that moment, emerged from the cabin. • , A sinister smile played round the mouth of the Arab skipper as he replied in the same language, of which Tom and his companions did not, of course, understand a word. Then the two Arabs paced the фск iogether, glancing, from time to time at this three pas- sengers, who stood at the starboard bow, leaning over the bulwarks. "You don't think as how they would go vor, tozeli you. and I into slavery, Master Tom?" inquired Dick, with a half-frightened look.. Í' They. Would never dare 1" replied Tom, *( There should be a British consul at Muscat, and to him we/should not appeal in vain if they attempted such an outrage against British subjects." . . , .( "You will speak for me, Massa Lester,.won't you?" said the Seedi lad, tremulously, "You will say me sailor-boy aboard British ship, won't you? British flag mighty eberywhere, you know." "That I will, Snowball," returned our hero, placing his hand protectingly upon the young negro's shoulder. The slaves being now supposed to have had sufficient exercise, they were commanded to sit down upon the. deck, and immediately arranged themselves in long lines, sitting down cross- legged. Then an Arab appeared, with a vessel contain- ing.a quantity of boiled corn, with which ho fed the wretched negroes with a wooden spoon, as many of our readers have, probably, fed a nest of fledglings. A similar mess, with the addition of morsels of salt mutton, was served below for the crew, with whom Dick and Snowball messed; whilst Tom partook of a boiled fowl in the cabin, with the captain and mate. Throughout the day he watched anxiously for a passing European vessel, but not a sail hove in sight. At sunset the slaves were ordered below, and dived one by one down the main hatchway. As the last woolly head disappeared from the- sight of those upon deck, the mate grasped the collar of Snowball's jacket and made a sign that he should follow the slaves. ¡ "Me free man I—me Briti sh sailor 1" exclaimed I the young negro, struggling to release himself, i Tom and Dick, who were close at hand, placed ! themselves menacingly before the Arab; I "Let the lad go, you swab 1" exclaimed Dick, [ forgetting for the moment that the fellow4 could not understand a word he said. In a moment the Arab had stepped back a pace and drew his pistol, which he presented at our hero's head, still retaining his hold of the negro's jacket. Tom struck up the fellow's arm suddenly, and the pistol was discharged in the air.: ^ At its sound a dozen fierce-looking Arabs- rushed to the spot, and laid hold of Tom and Dick, whom they regarded with savage scowls. Snowball was immediately forced below, and, after a brief and hopeless struggle against over- whelming numbers, his protectors were dragged after him and forced into the hold. (To be continued. Commenced In No. ICO.) 220 BOYS OF KN'GLAND. TRUE STÖSLS OF BOYISH BRAVERY. S Тис martial honour irf fdadand was main-! Th»' parsed^ ai t?«i- i'lusfí'ÚKH ymitfo -л!., ij in tvitjí pn ;ií j>ч,чHan;mi;y by Kiep Jam*1*, ' hit* ihír?»'< nía yerna w. i!^-.-;rjL'*-4 in a \' ?:!!•/ aa be W;»,«, MT'üs t'! fí.íYc ":)í'"'- ¡ lr< t.-r V,": !ü<'íl :n J *«He stades two hours a day, and employs tht I iiiv he^rt I"' I i*cst of his time in tossing the pike, or leaping, or ЧУЬ.'п ш \mi \\v Ibitj'vie»loiavilieretmraed shooting with the bow. or ? I^rmtf" fmm Ьй tí si t. to the Kti^íi^h etniri, ; othftt* f-xerdse of that kind, nnn hv Ы m-i^r and tbf- wiw/b: ri-idtu Ы-wíuh-d hb juvmat;;^,-. ; lb м.с ^ bt. «-v«t an ''iipn'.'.nr in hi> ;г;Лгь v.!;i. | ;,!;,.. tît'ïiiîsi,% !had ьчтп'! f.rd«.r> t.H'X'imi.ne ;d! tlH-f^H.ih-Mti'-r.K' •* lie show* him:^]f îiki>wh«t> very ^ond-natim d 'lié' 'was boni «b SUruii^, eaily iu IbbL and • his Ьсрм^Ьат^ und Bunins ^»eir ir^'-r^t- (|í(.',{ hin fîifiii' .4Ut'cet4Í«:ч- y-и ar»' my b-id*^ m -a, and iu\ Cmijs'a, ; but if y.jn ar»- î;hî, b'i*ar 'aavrd, I v»ai 1и\а- ^— Ь"|Ьч*. jüttümtf the child whum the little tyrant hwl ili- ач-d. 11 i •• Idar was AdaiH \b'wto:a a «road >*:b'«i,j'. aba A '.■•vt!"c dí,4< íyíífí.ü i:a;; сча-'ау \,\><- v-a' M I.* r-ai Ib:b biK lud'-'a and pedantic fath"i' wa,- ii.Li.ly tu rtaVct fur tb« <4liee. Ncwb'ii vv:is Tî«-1 v; arit >,«* ai îb< daiFÎi>-'!a*'!;b. oí; rii¡f'Uir:s¡«':i, *'S"ím ч ti¡(• arir.fí' '.vas аЬы;! f" ¡-ü'íb" ib»-. b;bl, v, íü-a aiavíat: ;»t a^lí, a bwaaad'a r.,.-!aiaí.4Í— ,k i)t.,warc, «ir, tkat yon ¿u not Líl Mr. "Па- iaaи»"«- d<\bM>-d ïraia î 1 a' roLt*, at tiíf,: taiiíH.' í íi!,a bii.-'rrviap, wiib a >aab — "1 i i i;;id doïH- I bad tu! an¡d my drib:-.*' In uiaki; to stimulate him. in' his Studien» the kinuia duy hinb'd»lbal it he ddd lad taka ш<»ге paia^, bis yoimpf'.-r hvol.hr.r. <,'hurlo (afaawaî'ds с p !a,, 1, j i\*mhl waa ai»y <,-uaai ip ban in b'ara- a«p. Mewtun. sometime alter» reaujuded the pnaee ,, ,Щ ■af Iii« fafp'-r's гашигк, in a Ma'iiawhat i;rn,-iy ;aid / .'/> unanahiway, '1 у '/ Ib'aiy -a*ra-d -día ;í' Íh- laaiiy íh"it^'':t ia.i \' bíullna* won id prava* í Ь ^ - нирпчог achola?', !d 'í'ba tiibtv wihW«a-*vd i hat. hi' really luid. ■ íbdfaabh< írars - as fía- >ubi% with !«-;ídv w»f, \ "! v, bb and,a bh-arb'S Aw\\i<:¡'w.vÁ r;saí,f:i'- !lary."' , Iiis ha*».* as Phin«4;is s<» adxcd и hat т\\<\\'л) ¡DM.ruía'-jd. he ia«»,-l de- hi* la^ws a uaval areibí'vi. ,V',y т,:м;Г ,-a: \ a'i, ia;raaa 'd* w\ar<, _ .! Wln-ü а им IV ,4add, ii- bnap< ud'lía , taiaaM la. a^iíohiuaaib.s hon-o in laa euanírv. ia ¡ lia- flay, j Iiis atTc-ttdfmT« wr-тя- ]гпИ in thHr c^TTap!n!Td% '* Г win.-h iia- Ранаа: tunk ¡v, naía'- ¡ií tía; \ Ьа„а \ ; 1 i¡r- lady «,f 4 !ä'3 !г,га1Я<а. baiaa-tdraa^ 'нала vaa *' "* a "-a ai' a aia" а • pa;, h а а ч v; -h * a, м>к» ha iaaaia-ba *' T- > î h i s iVu^a" ivplit'd Ibalir} , « What," s'dd th<- lady, « won hl yaaj highness in vif.*- aa'Otdy b* an ra)aginary f*'aa* b1 "Mu bíd.Ua\ iiiadatfid" witd h»% )«.д/к$и$» iip;- aibaa'inf )y into her fa<'<', "Ь; to b*1 foaad in this Ьиа.че,** líe bad Un» higher esi<-»/m far tin; illustrionR ai»'WalaT I! drip! , wh-aa hi-' dada- -» Iaa-!y h> pt fbr many y< ar- hi tin: Tov/'-r, ar.b afterwards i iiaa hini put to dcala, b: ib- ,4:; b - a- kiaa !ad bi^ iadi-i- wiaibl keep ! aihi, a lard ia -anub a aapa** ! A, raiaarka'alf trait ad Ьь a atra-'far v»%i* a d< >'p ir< bap « -f rtdipna, Hv. was -»ч,4 in his ашапЬаач» at divine a'í/iabíp* and v.ai- aecasîtaned t<» n-tire {'urn- piaiati-d ti a;«.ï^ aal ay ta« 'bib ]»ia vab; baivotioa^. •ate«'1 for' TTi.« par«"a was 'ibas minutapv d'^arîbrd b.y ; Ыл a'táehcd Jrb'nd. bdr Charlan í'uraaabí- i * ided hi, ía- а! ныг anvaa --■d— , í't Г ".vas :Л • ra- baia '.a b," pfaíd, «,! v/, ^|p .,у:еч ,.| а а.-тИу, lad, nddd!»- batua» %< A faiaap.-td _ _ a abarp->- wtav j.a- roi(d;:?'. ion,: ba-.'P, „¡d рг,,;}р р!П.|,, ,d,; aaa'aia- a«*r in w'aa/'s yны1аД in«',"in- i '.-java и ïw-A aaaa-d -aaha а а a, faiabaa Thaa< а,-< aaa:b ^>ч'<,л- aibbaawa í«. !bi- p-í'aa'p, irowab* rapiy, Id; p- wa- ¡uuuad' dfiaseií v.atb paaaíis- ; * faenar this ¡aw>\;paUaa ha vans aampdîad lo j|¡s p4í,;, in g with the pike. remain the wind* time on hi- km-es: and in . ¡ vh*n>- '-arly aa th.? y aar !dd,wbaa "na v/ач baa ïad btniuliut inr- p.,.vauro to a,a£,nat- the tïivoioUH ^*H:ibian'« naabw ;p'ars aid, íban> I v , d' fb;aa-.' ^aponía ¡aaa^^ whi'ab а Ла aa aipiH ;p//dn-t baa, , adaiV'da.d aa ia;a;p!n aa -,am! t > ha v • !apa a lad; I aa: iaina •vvft.ii ,>:l n< Ü.' anxii'iy, î ía-< %\ra' adaa.'Jiy d -t»'«'- "d was ai ..aa«d 'daaaa"«r »a' ip.. ;,;.мп^ nana< aba. Iba of braath, hut Hm ;einen.- :a"; а<-.|Л> -dandine ^ave Wis ;i¡:i!mv.¡wl<»ialiW(,i,Jüb tu treat him with , пааг me, from liana to tiaaa vtieMiiragcd nw Vv\wu> Ц.аау'н eareer wa.< di-stined to bens pada-al'o raspaat, a aaaaadaide eoap)baadd. ю bar a-- he miirht. without niiVnre t«» Ids fatln-r;' , brief a-: it was brilliant. Ib; died «»n die mb Ы d, yosan'.r a daa 'V»b-aai tba'biap af !ам d'"'íd«'d ai Idtíds favour. N"ca- nitn- Th" aib.í; '.:d'ir v.;r«.t«' in a k-ftar \<> Flanee— ^-"o v -' da^íaaa a aa.| and aid. í Лео o-ara 'ia aü'a'a a/p« J- n .Ьаа.ч a da-a- adda -a-i han— < d- a- » oí •,-; íi¡¡a-a,r a,,;t «a r(í t Hpay ,, s a': , a* ч-a^j.-i as áaa- >(iii :,a- paa paaaí.-ías ;aaar maea, afaí , "eaaaaat baa,, be. one, day ai ab- \\ \;k.v> ara the,-'* pappnad b bona that dad" with '■•Л"т\пигу paternee aîid ra,-ipaa! a at. aaa-a ibakjrn-'л аапа-pv vad; lia a г faiaa aea,a,-a- Tdafn'd. мч><\\ a-aa varbi upad Henry had sent the Hanphin. the eb.baî F«-n of s bar: baaaah head* "did d«."s. Tha ann-aj-sad-a* ívearídiaanís f bat baa ta Mar .dn-uhi >aad, ■ -V.' r in raanra *' а мд:Ь of aniauj; well palt aadb Friia-a, 'ddíar 1 fonry. ;unenviable boon, in hi* «»wn won is, "it is t<» • nana ikd. n^'.-t a ifii aided and a s v.. rd; Tea paie-a, \n da'w his r< yard far Fett, took " Hand! purpose for a yailbd man. when the prime ddia -a-aaa kiî >ad í bi;-da-a-baa :np si^drr, atdenvarba the bba-an af ' af his days ara ovad to Ibe ti'd ha ía idb af Aral, !,<• sta - ;bolaaniii, to visit the шрапгаан abipwaapht, ai _ diaeaaseas,"* •Mi hf^ П'-at m tbr.-a а е(маа«к of hor«PF, otic nf * hi^ hnmbfo residrn»»e: an bnitonr whicii «',om» { 'J'hup panned nwiiy thïK noblfî prtnee, ".bde" *,. b, ana b a , ;a- - a 'a;- a, if d-¡ d"0 a nby Fail aad j , .. ,,, '_Wtytl !do badila ¡td. ComN.wa n, „\<л ltUj fidaiaa M Ом и О 'KU; 221 BOYS OF ENGLAND. С;;* I/i pa-on lug tills to still» tliiifc ш *. ,iip«; tn ;i',t Li-г. nt;Л I,;' í«t aar Г'\к*!' r», i' "-я >>/,',y ful'» v. Î! 0< i.'i.- . O i.¡T ;.- tM Í h ' ■'.■■>', V H • \VM"'"« î",' '*a а]а«-чаО 0* í(;¡ «',.»'•"''• О Oí ,'v ал' vVi.i.;. ;,v," - Av, I d.edî .vaiiî 0.» kill a wMûitîi, d I (I.,!,!,,,,] Î11K BUFFALO KKV'í ПК I'll К BILL, поп >j-;î; M l'.V la a mínate, at fall speed, the party after their loader, and the wreteliel be aáa • а -d: r.v <»--mî. Frozen with terror and awe, the beautiful ti ; db ,oed Li.lt;". .*r< 0» о ;t *" îb.i '!"'-:'\v, \. -, their mother and brother knelt over the stilîemî Í- . :■. d h ,,i v/h^ ) ad b*» a *o y-ed oad »• iod~-d* ^" í d--ad id! her! i did СГЬЬ d » m . , !at a » a ao: 4r'''';j;; ViK:f, ;Mu dC-.-.V d ^V/'.v^'î'. duraowhh , v_;О ad V» d add <'"•> e!,db'!' ru;;, '":'<••/''''•' о-éd. ■ ,.'lf!;i* , ,,,„ (W,.,:î. • *' J.îyL !nr:;;h" !',;:n"'' ''«: !'>' •'■ 1 b 'nad-.-obt ihe Idao-d naiboa, ob- па, J iIii;-'^v«;im i^M;ív. ^ _ b^od hvabbv-d.^btv, i^b 'Л' и ы- .!н- by.w ti-ur. и, r!«; ir'-b-d -Wh;, bu, ¿„,w !mimVrr" In y<-i oa ho ooi èoa 1 "ii-'v iir,,':» Ь IV, iL r.îr.d, '¡i Il wiNi/df'-'L.TU,!' . nWLÍÍüÍ life, 3 !;<:<' f ir-; СП Л \ < < T!! IFF] You will see him but Lb.-v1 у! 0,<>, V '■',] ih<: í • t"î,,! .b/i^, -л },..•!: l-;v fullii'.f,. iirawil to u very lircat e> I.cr:L, not from ;^in;if ion. but from lif.* iîs-'f, A iiobiti-iuukiiitr. whiíc-ha-ired ni:tu óíVá bv a re l.abltL i4í;uii!.'.f fh'-:i>îbb.: a^.nL On stuoí's by his* ftít'L .-it iwo h-jiuiiiiul ikúi %irl Iiis t WÍíj Г Г.-, l;*it Ш* "i' í г ;и b'L V- ,«'•'> '.f ,4" wliílü a noble bov tw*:\ v»í fort: v*>0'vhi/ for tb- llí^llt; ÜL<4 Mr, C';dy, tf.c, i 'LS î. - ti nr. as well пя pat ri or. п!-.упуя *' Il hi f il-- li'LtrL < -î bis Леаг bom«;. v¡'^v< t'.'- hwly brK'L and là ub^ut (O knt'i'l itJni ;u>k , 1!.«;ivcl to ob- . an»! j.ï-oî-.M-t ííííii ami Lia dt-ar oîicl» JLu'k; j Tb; -'-'ль! "f Ь«»г.-. - iL^b-íj^ J hb ho'.:,-» lJ:.- n;"'-h líl î ;у« Í ;î 1л h ]i..>.,îb'L thr»;*' n,no- * il î? r ÍílCl а'мОШ bu -«ll-, , * '- ',y. l'i'L'O L¡;rí»,;rO^ frnïîî 1 l*,iakL M'K-iïi ▼eigeaace, spar« Ь( г/, i à": :i !«:!;•' wildly stem, ti "A :!;,* word л . iL Ui>; t'Llbii^Vvd !..,;.<•!, i \\ ;í|mw, sí/tí 1 in tt'T i:LL¡r,4 : him for f»y bail » ;<.w, л,. 0- y.; "ll:l< ;•• i.;¡." «; ;l a irtîlTÎB 'i'îivkb^î , and ehe bfn.. Tb ЛЬ;- od * -(S « i о * LL-L Uni; b"0,r«* "Wi,,0 , v*,i'Ofd, ;*.;uí wl¡' « V -,,di.4Î f ftrï d n.HîL i L<- tí. S''!^' W»?L' iHH'U f he '! í< '.¡ '-tu^'l 'jfíí'i, i! ■ Oír»' *" Vo'i ю-*.: waiítí'd, yo\í blas''.;, hearl ril Li^Ljr'r-wordopintr, and /, C"1^Lí:J ' 31 *K;tijf,íia~, Luvt; t'i mv U< b:!¿'b y«'U I ¡uid ÍIíí.Tíj'm litu war no. í!" Л - Cío; nillloí Ь*а*Ьт of t U* '•л a»! L!OL¡f/'íl tfLor- Wî'ids, to*,; t Osl ,sb« ,«b/ i«i },b L;tLd v,:<, ob,--.i. IrV-ib-d. IlO'à, HOU îiO' Í.00' O br, L,.r.d, 'OHJ I < bo-;, dun i^ii (i*-,iu и» м'or-» í i î j I о :i« r.*«,L j.b .' L'iiüd, ]>/,y(-L îto . v.Vi bi л ]- ~',u ï-.{ i !.c -n- ¡' i-/;n** íi^.í: íí5r l'H-rL'.T; î, J V, Im Ó п * l < ¡d '.íy íO'O.- \v.;rk 0/ d«d„ íi,?v (!.»;; !; !" c» •)' 'iL' . LOvyV. l; гь.л »• .-о,- ■ di. с. ig garb, worn, for him i ill'.! Ûr< <*:;:ij-t !L :ml, !.<•;»,!• b< r -i;t:i'l î -л'< > ¡idh, ;ohI tb?v:at,rn W;t boiL Mao:,,*- ~'i j,"' LbbL*4. loving ey<»!4 as sh*< !»-H(i ihn if'trr eri'-d «?ut — u « >!a iLUL'uaa, iLaííOsra tbí.T L-î С. »Di i ПО 'In »litt-! î b: he wib bo hf'iT before thn Fi-!- но du,« f -да 'О î з'-d f t L. I- M"i i.' da, a i í'i a t ivLO'-»")-, a ni ba^ 1и-« a loti^* о,- i-oma;;o 41 h nut ío-íJav tío; 'tw?ntv- fifth V ask.'d bottio. •*!'<' ba .au'c it 'b. ;,:,d he wlb î»" Oíir HTbaai ;ч wdd, !)ut bo never tell* a false» i-<4. lie is tooproœlfor that. Jb-av, ,a bl^-b f.; da* î l>< Li'dîH-r, in a low, earnest tone. "И^' 'd Гаь i'omif;;" a!ooi',n ía aa • íniatí- i,uin' Liai Ai-« г О" 00 . * :01» föf s'.v-d' ll;^ ььч dhr ». »'dî.-> da'. I'trO. ,sL' kanvv la' dJ-ad Yù.v" Ia«arí' m does aotí î па/ VLÎL1) i ; Г С L AM) oo'it ?¡, OJ'OOO (Cd J>KAIJX<; Í'jMATII АПОГХГ) TU EM»' "Т.-1!(а:. .mad:n:j,if у<ул\ aad 'лídoli way {)î<- naad< M" ;-Ч i" о HoL-a»aL --a^i d'-iL-i--,, addressing tí: î' d amid b 'O' bal a, ,o(,.y.. v,urd —y.-; ^ *b'! vyv* --^а\\ч \\i)\\\v il;: a»aí fab f'oa b-niy A ; l'a ,u - A » y o^a-( t'a-; b-.iiy nf ba; a - • iy- a, a- • Oîa! ;tîoaa, V< < '' L r,0>: ai, ny,-? ty; Mf },,. |Г(<1(у (,,rya, . LL'W, о./; |H'0 ач d a к:\ф1у \\ ;v,h Liid. ay...- toirdart'd ту him tin tio- híia. Í, aia TcM'á oiid fea La nuv,' fbaa îh-^ aud tab iv;o Th" lOldar daíjíb'd the dlLÍ ;oid offiraq fnr tbf d*- iny da; o 0, da,~a,d a-v ty - dope to Coleb aod jooaodi the ooo."d'a"-a », , Moimb'd on íhv î,.»*.t LO>ak in lh»,- ]лпп—?îkî ïia,»d" of ti yîoi-n—Modaadla> aad hit ¡ :oyv won- air. ady j, mil»';-* away, Ko^pdby tn <^>%'erts kiao..vii îa bnt f-ov, i aiai Hioaa tdw «a tb«-o' naai kiod.' ЛI! tbi.4 occurred iu tbcoo dark days wden bne¡ stroyyd*í4 on thf bord- r w/r».; fio? Sdi-ana af a'Oiv.a'so; doo ojid db)>uta ab »ОЧ'Г «,.ur íaaab .oui il wa~ 'aal ■ тс of a thousand, or even no'tra, snrfi ca»^—Í ,b. ad- he doesn't being good other." i? "Ii la'd? saara.» a h.dí Ь > .г of 5tmK0t," saM the nicitber, *• T"b aar yaiud К i' I v Л! < b»»оч f.a per.M Catia ooib-d o'd in lair >ù, иГ) rinrinjî voicf.*— u Kitty libaídoao !'* "id. re, inks, laooa Ín-óU* ;ы a, daoy and diiao t;aa/4 ;ud aatand," í*'a./dt a ybmiy, i'hi-rrv.id,<^L,,y V> uu £ girl, wií.h jit.4¿. «-nnugk of î.bo lyoao- «a.; b,T Oto^'ua to tell îhu! ait)-? líkaív Mvtab Ул-'т'ь ЬЬ wa* K,у fu bi, o;o' tb-y,' дг -," *' Aud are Umy hail a>- даиЦж>шс as too y^aag a-bOaa aad a*' tiadar id b« urt, ч • is '/" ** ( Ht l boîia'ratioît !—I axpeot so. What m b; o> y.ai. Kitty b" mi*\ to ma 4i« îH)tbîaiy Buf. to yco and , wo*o; Ml« iiAlw ;'. »a ty Ь-, ,.'"a< i! o¡y; e«<" hf'an n.piAce for yez, if 'iheyVe but worth tho !.->cb. ia^ at aad spjikin-r wdd.'f «di, yon gotabfai íaiíidaa К dry did not wad. fo li.au- ih" n-,i»k«» no word U) ristra in nnle b:,rd fblb bid .on. bob a, (bai ю Н.цу,, t;„ !!;,. ¡ t,fJTÍbK M;d 1U}í5:íUirü] ;t ntuv ¡a- lar.v, 1 wiii mû avery tatlaa oí you before < "Mother, u Гич, 1иЛ p,iilfí away. "MooFtíT, von laive robbed me of a husband ; ran: *♦ \do fai, moih^r—; "t far, -•b'dl ; , L kid iny b»y Г' 'd.id kad tía- аилЬа, a'd-.{ * ^•oao.y fraovard and drew her .soii '-'""Iii. ^'d-îa'b taia-ad a ? :vt 'r'Oiy of laea 'aaaas* .»vr owe praírua Wo'd batívf -itd Uí Lt tlií.-o momuai. William, f» bia ( d, o- v/ -г.,- í î.bau b*dd.' oid aîdva"0ia-, oiai .t a:,ey L.dka oie tiïee to kid îlaaa add o\i i|utdo]v, alueai yeady, did da* Ь,,у чу.-.do fiad <л-,о \\i>>\\'\ íáodíy ddoa-í di- y< oay aoed á¡;, daí-- -d lie eonfeoipíateib ; - < l'4 [MABÇII 1, 1870. hot, three risers ut full speed dashed up to the gate -fronting the cottage. "Oh! brother, brother Г cried the two sisters, joyously, and all heedless of the stranger eyes now looking on them, they rushed out to embrace and kiss him. Buffalo Bill, for this was he, had learned to hide -all his feelings, but with a gentle tenderness he shook himself out of their embraces, and present- ing his two friends by name, hurried on to meet the »dear mother, who, with glistening eyes, waited to greet her idol and her pride. "My good mother 1" was all he said,-as he pressed his manly lips to her white forehead. "My dear son!" was all she said, but pages would not describe the reverence in his tone, or the undying love in her look. Bill now presented his friends in more form to his mother than he had deemed it necessary in the •case of his sisters. ".* f This, mother," said hea presenting a young man who, in form and appearance, resembled himself very closely, though-he was an inch taller and hardly so muscular; "this is my mate—this is Bill Hutton, the best friend I ever had, or ever will have, outside of our own family. Three times has be saved, me from being wiped out. Once by the Ogallalas, once when I was taken with the cramps in the ice-cold Platte last winter, and once when old Jake M'Kandlas and his gang had a sure set on me. He and I will sink or swim in the same river, and that's a safe bet. Bill, that's my mother, and a better neyer trod the footstool Г -Wild BUI, with a natural grace, bent his proud head and took the hand of the lady, saying, in a tremulous tone; "I'm glad to gee you, ma'am, for I've got a good old mother that'I haven't seen this many a day, and this rayther brings her up afore me!" "And this other," continued Bill, " is Dave Tutt. He is good on a hunt, death on tho reds, and as .smart as bordermen are made now-a-days. Now, boys, you're all acquainted, make yourselves at home. I know that mother will soon have a good -old supper for us." "Yes—Kitty is getting it ready as fast as she can, ,and I'll go and help her," said Lillie, who did not like the wild, passionate gaze which Dave Tùtt seemed to гЪьироп her. 'Î •Pretty Kitty -Muldoon was busy setting th® itable in the, dining-room when Buffalo Bill, unob- served, came slyly in, and, bending his tall form ♦over her shoulder, suddenly touched his lips to hers.! Bounding aside, quick as a fawn, she wheeled, and brought the palm of her fat, chubby hand into ^contact with his cheek with a force that made him see stars and brought unbidden tears into his laugh- ing eyes. "Bad 'cess to yez, Master Bill, and it's at yer ould thricks ye are Î" cried Kitty, laughing at the woeful * look he pub on. "Why,"Kitty, I hadn't seen you for so long, I ^couldn't help it. Thunder and whip-stalks, but you hit hard I My cheek tingles yet!" ,■ "Faith, then, it'll nmke your memory better, sir; but may be I did hit a bit harder than I had razon for, sir, for you're a gopd son and brother, and I ¡know' you'd cut your right hand off before you'd harm a poor girl like me, or see harm come to her." "That is so, Kitty, that is so; and now here's something to wear I brought from the traders. It's .-a new dress, and if it isn't just like those I brought for mother and sisters it is just as good and cost as much." "Thank ye, Master Bill, thank ye for your kind .thought of the poor girl that has no one to think tafter her but you and yours. Sure the angels sent me here when I came, and I hope they'll каре me here,till I die, for it's like heaven to work for them vell soon gave way and fled in every direction, but not before lull half their num- ber had fallen. "Curse them, why do they shoot so careless from the house—this is the second graze I have had from there," cried Wild Bill, as he wiped the blood from a wound grazing his cheek. "There's a hole in my hat from the same quarter," said Buffalo Bill. "I d like to know what they mean." The two men dashed away, and again a bullet evidently from the house, passed so close; to Buffalo Bill's head that he felt its wind. The Indians scattered far and wide, but the two men succeeded in knocking over a half dozen more, when the thought struck them that it was better not to go far from the house lest some lurking be- hind would continue the attack, and they rode back. The search for a white man among the bodies of the slain was unsuccessful; so Bill' decided in, his mind that if M'Kandlas bad been in the party,he had escaped this time. As they approached the house they-took pains to make their individuality known by signals, which could not be misunderstood; therefore they were spared the perils which it seemed friends rather than foes had cast upon them during the charge. In a short time, their horses left closei in ^he shadow of the house, the two brave-friends, ^yeye in. it once more. . "You can light up, I reckon," cried Buffalo ¡Bilí, when he entered. "The Eeds, or what's left of 'erir, are off to their tribes on the run. But I'd like tô know who in thunder it was shootin' so careless from here while we was wipin' 'em out in the grove. Me and my mate both got grazed, .and it wasn't from none of them close by. It was long..shoQtin\ and as close as if 'twas done on purpose." "I don't see how it was. I shot for Indian, and nothing shorter than Indian," said Dave. "Well, it's no matter; we're here now, and our hair is on. I reckon there's a pretty good lot o' Beds laying aground loose for crow-bait, аз we'll see when day comes again." "Thank Heaven, you are safe," said Mrs. Cody, as she heard the voice of her son. "I hope you and your brave friend are unharmed?" "All right, mother, but a scratch or two that cold water will heal. But are you sure you saw the face of "Jake M'Kandlas at the window-V" ".Yes, my son; I never can forget his face. I surely saw it." "Then he has got off this time. I knew most of his gang had gone under, but I didn't think he had taken up with the Cheyennes. They say that every tribe in the West but the Pawnees are going with the South. If they are, we border folks will have our hands full. But we're good for 'em, aren't we, Bill?" "I reckon we are, if we know ourselves," said Wild Bill. "Was the gals much frightened, ma'am?" "No. They knew who was here to take care of 'em, and they'd blush to be his sisters if a few Indians could scare.them/'.said;Mrs. Cody. "That's the kind of grit for me. Oh, but. they're game!" cried Buffalo Bill, as his eves glanced proudly at the sweet girls. "And here's Kitty Muldoon as fearless as they, .I'll bet a horse. Isn't it so, Kitty?". "Faith, sir, it's not meself that'll tell a lie. I was scared out of a night's ßlape, I'm sure, and that's somethin', when one is sure to drame s wate drames, as I do. 'But what do you think, sir, one of them red haythens has shot forty holes in my new dress, that I'd folded up and put on the window-sill, ■when I run for water for the mistress in her faint." "Never mind, Kitty, there's more where it came from, and so long as the dress wasn't on your own body, it's small harm that is done. And now all hands of you be off to bed, but us men that are used to watching. It isn't likely any of the Beds will come back to-night, but we'll keep our eyes peeled and be ready for''em if they do. When morning comes we'll see about their trail." "I thought you was in siich a hurry-to get to St. Louis to join Fremont and his men," said Dave Tutt, his tone quiet, but the slightest-gleam of sar- casm, in his eye. . , . ч . , . "Not'while there's any .danger hangm about them I love, iM know myself," saipVBill. "If you're so hard put for whisky that^you cant wait, why, you can start as soon as you like. "I do not wish to drink," said Dave, blushing, for the keen eyes of-both .the. girls, had been fixed upon-him while their brother spoke. And I reckon when there's danger about I'll be asjoth to leave the helpless as anyone else that wears shootin' irons in his belt 1" "Well, that's right. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Dave, but I'm more touchy here than I be out on the prairie, or on the hills." Maiïch 1,1870.] 223 ¡BOYS Ш ENGLAND. CHAPTER IY. THE САПР IN ТЛЕ COTTONWOOD Git OYE. gE,piopn had goncdqwn before day da\ynod, but the ¿epul^eji CJieyennes peycr bated in tjieir he^d- Jong speed until a couple of hours after sunrise, ,>vhenrthey had. reached a thick cptÇonwood .grove on tEe soiíth báñk ortííe.^epublican .fiver.' ! Here,' at , the fcaU of their chief, |hey dismounted ■^d>Jgaiffej¿9:,aró'u^dhííáV' ■ By his side,' with a scowl of anger, and some show of distrust, too, in, his face, stood .Take M'Kandlas, the white ruffian who had planned this foray. Lookirig:sternly at him, after counting the war- riors left, thé old chief said— "Then; willt?e a great cry among the squaws in the lodges of the Obeyennes. Many warriors have gone down—thèir scalps are in the belts of our enemies, and we have not a scalp to show that has Ъееп taken in return for ours. What has the Hawk of the Hills to say to this?" ."■That which the Great Spirit wills tobe will be," said Jt'Kandlas, in reply. "Two nights ago I went to the cottage on the plains, looked in, and saw •only women there. There was stock, meat, plenty •of goods. I told Big JIaple, the chief, of the Pheyenncs, that he could get these and not lose a man. But while! was gone, the fighting men came —we know not how many—I saw.JjuVthree. If' we had fought as wHite men fight and charged right in •on ihem, >ve would now have their scalps in our belts. Big MapJe would not listen to my words. He fought his' way aná lost half his warriors. It is not my fault. I h аур spoken." The ¿Id chief knew that, so far as the advice was •coñcerned,:M'Kandlas had spoken the truth, "The Hawk of the Hills has spoken with a single T'tongue. His wordsy are true. But the faces of the tribes will be black 4yHen4ve go back vyithoút scalps. ..What has my brother" to say to .that?" 'aslcccV the •chief.''***'1:" '1 *" "That if ;we go back without scalps, луе are -fpols !" ^áid M'Kandlas, quietly.'r"If the'gun of the Big 1Гар1е misses Йгег apes he throw it away, or pick tile flint and try it again? There are more -days and nights itlian one, and plenty of pale-faces -are scattered about the plains. The Hawk of the Hills knows other settlements which we can reach in two or three days* journey. We can go there for •plunder and scalps, and then come back here; and when the fighting men are not here or are asleep, we •can sprinkle the bones of our dead with the blood of vengeance where they fell." "The Hawk of the Hills speaks like a man. The &eart. of Pig.Maple was weak. It is strong again. The warriors will cook meat and ,eat while their "horses r,est адД feed. Then we will take the war- :path;and the Hawk, pf the Hills shall lead the way. В ig Maplq is his brother, and will follow where he leads." ¡Light blazipg fires, emitting scarcely any smoke, were now made from dry twigs, and the .warriors made a hearty meal,.the first for four-and-twenty hpurs. It was not finished, when an alarm was given by .a scout. White men, mounted and armed, were coming in |rom the South. * "They are,not those we fought last night," said MfKandlas. "They have not had time' to get to this side of the river. I will ride out а1одег and see •who they .are. Let my red brothers remain where .they ,are, ready, tp fight or to flee, if they see that I aam among! their ehernies." ""The Hawk of the Hills is a great brave. His *lïï0r^ are i?oo<3, and his deeds go with them," said Л the Cheyenne, chief. 1 ■ MfKandlas now mounted his horse, put a bit of white cloth on the ramrod of h\s rifle, and rode out ,frqm the shelter of the . grove towards the group of advancing horsemen, some ten or a dozen in number. They halted as soon as he was observed, and ^seemed to look.to then* arnis.' * He rode boldly pri until within two or three hundred yards, when a shóut of recognition rosé on both sides, and men rode rapidly to meet him. '' They weae life own men from the Black Hills whom he had left there to carry on his business of pillaging emigrant train^ while became down on an -expedition on his own private'account.: "Why are ypu here :}ie asked, ,as .they rode up. "What did you leave Cave-Canyon for?"' 'f Because we got sarched out, and scorched out, and whipped out!" said one, who' seemed to head rthe party. "That gal you, took from. the Mormon train and made so much of 'cause she .was likelier Tthanmost gals in face and figure, * got away and went down to Laramie in the night. The next thing' we knew the troops was right in amongst, us, and we got away—that is,"half of us, for the-rest werit Ttmder in the fight. We got off afoot, and had tV go clear down to the Border for horses,-and we were" on the look for you, when here you turn up." K *' (To be continued.) %* All Communications to Ы addrewd to the. Edito?,ЪЫ. Edwin J.^Iíbett, 173, Fleet Street, КС. *»* We cannot, under any circymstancts. undertake Jo give fnediçat adtke in the columns of this Journal. %* Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to answer our Corres pondants in. a shorter time than three w,ceks. Letters must be prepaid. %* Correspondents who wish to receive replies by post must in ah cases send stamped dirççted envelopes,' J. C. Leek.--The speed of the whale is not go .great as i represented. The usual rate at which whales swliri; even when tiiey are on their passage from one situation to another,seldom exceeds four miles an hour: and though. When urjied by the èl»ht of any enemy,' or alarmed by the stroke of a harpoon, their extreme velocity may be at the rate of eight or nine mtlcs.an hour: yet we find this «peed' never continues longer than a few minutesbeforeit relaxes to almost one half. Hence, foi* the space Of à few minutes, they arc capable of dart ng through the water with the velocity almost of the fastest ship under sail, and o'f ascending with such raptdity as to leap entirely oat of the water. This feat they sometimes perform as an amuse- ment apparently to the hipli admiration of the distant spectators,,but to the no small terror of the in experienced fhdicrs. who, even under such circumstances, aro piten ordered by the foolhardy harpooner to44 pull away" to the attack. Sometimes the whales throw themselves dnto a perpendicular posture, with their heads*downward, and, rearing their talcsI on'high' in thé air, beat the water with awful violence. In both these cases the sea is thrown into loam, and the air filled with vapours." The noise in calm weather is heard to a great distance; and. the concentric waves produced by the concussions on the water are com- municated abroad to a considerable extent. Sometimes the while shakes Its tremendous tall in the air. which, cracking like a whip, resounds to the distance of two or three miles. One who has Fought and Bled You ,will perceive that the reduction or the army, as we are at present informed, is as follows :— The reduction by two companies of the whole of the regiments on foreign service, from the 1st of April next, will affect the following corps, viz. :—lst'(four companies), 2nd,3rd, 5th, Gth,7th,8th,9th, 10th (fourcom- panies), lith (four companies), 12th,* mil, Hth (four com- panies), 15th, 18th, loth (four companies), 20th, 21st (four, companies), 24th (four companies), 25th, 2Cth, 28th. 20th, 31st, 32nd, Cfith, 37th, 38th. 39th, 41st, 45th, 4Sth; 40th, 52nd, ¿3rd, 55th, 58th, 50th, COth (six companies), eist, ü2ndlG4th, C9th, 71st, 73rd. 74th, 75th, 7Gth. 77th, 78th, 70th, 83rd,«84th,: 85th, 8Gth, 87th, 68th, 92nd. 95th, 0Gth,lO3rd; 104th, IDóth, lOiîth, 107th, 108th, Wüth, Kiflc Brigade (four companies). The 1st battalions lGth,82nd, 93rd, and 102nd will, of comse. on arrival home be reduced to the lióme establishment of ten companies. The GGth, 81st, and 89th, under orders for embarkation, will not be augmented on proceeding out. The reductions will leave 15G captains and thesame number of lieutenants supernumerary to the establishment of their regiments. Inquisitive. -You arc quite right. Ladies "have sat ln¡ParlIa- mcnt, as you will perceive by the following extract. Gordon. in his "Antiquities of Parliament," savs:-4lThc ladles of birth and quality satin council wjth the Saxon witas/.' •* The Abbess Hilda." says Bedc,44 presided in an ecclesiastical synod." In Weignfrcd's' great council 'at Bcconficid.A. D.C94, the abbesses sat imd deliberated; and live of them signed decrees of that council'along'with-the khtir, the bishops, and nobles. Ivjhg Edgar's charter to the Abbey of Crowland, Л. D. 9GI, was, with the consent of the nobles and'abbesses who feigned the'charter. In Henry III.'s and Edward I.'s time'four abbesses were summoned to l'arîiàmcnt-namely; of Shaftesbury, Berking, St. Mary of Winchester, and of Wilton.'In the 35th of Edward IIÍ. were summoned by writ to Parliament, to appear there by their proxies-namely, Mary Countess of Norfolk, Alienor Countess of Ormond, Anna Dispenser, Phllippa Countçss of .March, Johana Fitzwatcr, Agnetta Countess of Pem- broke. Hary de St. Paul, Mary de Koos. Matilda Countess of Oxford, and Catherine Countess of Athol. These ladies were called ad colloquiam troctatuni by their proxles-a privilege peculiar to the peerage to appear and act by proxy. Xumskull.—(1.) We do not know, but brieve that, as it was a fnllure, it was broken up. (2.) ** Unlucky Bob" was published in No. of the Bots of England. We cannot . say when another will be written like It. pADnr Vrom Cork—Yes ; it was said that on Boxing Day 16CÖ. 470 persons, were charged at* the, two Dublin police- courts with drunkenness. A Pcpil(Tbacueb.*-(1.) Wc think that it is. (2.) We in- sertcd some' few weeks back*,the several branches of education to enable persons to pass an examination for a situation in the Inland lievenue department." Search well the columns.1 (S.) Wc cannot tell you what the salaries are. You will! soon ascertain that when^you- have gained the situation. (4.) In all departments of the Civil Service wo believe the examination all persons have to undergo Is somewhat severe, and most certainly you would\have to resign your present employment. \ '•'' SbaukлDbouqiiYes; and very proper too." Street singing Is abominable at all times, but more so when it is treasonable..*(2.) You can order the stage through your bookseller, and It can bo sent through his Loudon agent. (3.) No; and we have had .great trouble in dc ciphering it. T Constant SüBscBiBE^.^lO'We *ЩчЦ advise you not) to * smoke at ali;ict*alône at '* 15" years of age. (2.) Shortly. (3.) -Your writing. Is. very -bad try aud Impro vp it instead of'smoklntf, i'lrwill require great intcr^st'-for ryöuTto obtain a situation in.the Customillouser^ .^"f л '• Gipst Xed.-(1.),Byjtho..xpajwjfyçfjour,-rcaderpiíhó.sl)0rt tales in all our'Journals are Very much liked. ^2.) Yes-; just the thing. , .. . ', ,Xo.l. 'nowjin, Jack Lakkins.—We think it Is a great pity that you Ьал-е quarrelled with'your old friend, especially upon the ev« of your departure iortlHi Antipodes. You ask us to advise you, Jbutvwe. do not see that we can. because we do not know the cause of it. Is it a matter of rivalry, money, or jealousy? Whatever the cause, try and pink all differences before you leave hhn-pcrhaps lor ever. You will And your spirits lighter during thc;voy,aee, and, to crown all.pcrnaps find prosperity flow in upon you. There are few things that embitter existence more than the enmity existing between those who «ere friends In the spring and joy of life. Shake hand? before the sail* arc spread.' Who can:tcU if you will ever clasp the hands again? ,. Некшск.- (1.) You can have cases for, binding. (2.)tWe camiót tell you to how many numbers the tales may run. (3.) We publish,a volume every six months. * Robin IIood.-CI.) Wc are not In possession" of. the name of the wonderful person who invented stays.* (2.) Ко; it re- quires great improvement before it will be suitable for a counting house. * LAIIGE ЩВ fMAGNIPICENT Drawn, jEiigraved, and Coloured expressly for the Work at ! a cost of over' FIVE HUNDRED .POUNDS, Was Given Away \yitibNo." 10S of :theTOUXa MEN OF GrBEAT BJUTAÏN. * > 3. Bates and OTiiEHs.-flOSce jhe answer above. (2.) There is nuAcxcellcutlschool story published the Boys of England; too much of one thing is aptUD pall ицопЛЬе'арреШо. f>(3.) =Wetliliibthdifco«ii signature the best. • rv1 ¿ ■• >; t\ 7 An Old Header.—Wc are much pleased that wc continue * to mftIntaf)titHo„ good, opinion of go many of our readers. Д'оцг sugu'cstloivshall receive, con sid.cnntou.. DEsiDETíA'rüif»r(i')4t 'ís.' помп our power'to answer your( question. Î A» to tho value of the garnet consul t'a Jeweller1 ill tl)0 Boi'd ОГ J^CLAND. C. Fox.-Very shortly, and we hope to your satisfaction. T WO iV E AV STORIES Commenced In the same Number of the YOU.NG ЫЕХ OF Great Buitaiw. THE PRESS GANG: A STOßT ÖP OLD ENGLAND. And HURRICANE TOWER: OK, THE SCHOOL ON THE .CLIFF. ANO GIF T To Every Subscriber to,the "YOUNG MEN' OF GKEA1v ;BIUTA1N. WitljKo. 112 of the Y'onîîo'irEN OFGBEATBuiTAiN will t(e GIVEN AWAY No. 1 of a New Romance, of. Start- ling ana Thriliing Interest, entitled, '' THE RIVAL APPRENTICES: A TALE OP THE KIOTS OF 1780, This work will be from the pen.of the Favourite Author of «• The Young Apprentice," 41 Ituperc prçatlnought," Young Iron^üeart, '* &cC, &c.,tand ,will be, f ull of Stirring and Exciting Incidents. This* Grand Story will be printed on TONED ГДГЕВ, in NEW'TYPE, and will be Profusely Illustrated by the best Artists of the day. ORDER EARLY, In order to secure a supply.' Remember to ask for No. 112 with the Ne'w Stpryi Gratis. A SPLENDID NEW TALE, .¿ntitlcdi RETURNED TO THE WPRLD, By the Author "of "Giles Eveugrï^n," "FßED Раойо,">* On the" Verge of the Gjjlf," &c, WILL COMMENCE NEXT WEEK rln the BOYS OF ^ENGLAND. TO OUR HEADERS Î 3/r. Brett whhes Jits Readers to understand that if any handbills have ^îj ?!:' Full particulars will be given fcran ¡early Camber of the BOYS OF ŒNGZAND. PART X¿¿VIII.tpf thc B^OYS OFJE/NGLAND ,IS JÎÎO^ REAJPX, Price Sixpence; or/ Post free from our office, Sevenpence. 2 2 i BOYS OF ENGLAND. ROBIN HOOD AND HIS MERRY MEN, Л N : • ТШ-I PAITÓ TT V kLAVKD IK Tb'E Olli,!::?. VP ,',«[» F H \Р1к !' » fif ЛаО.т :u t\otta < i.;o отпта <\v ;t,'.T«ai,'.!y obb: <\bs»? îdon^ her baaST-.-us !r«- .-<•- , bib-"* tb" к îT boOo bor 7ï ! a- -i к, i * aak b b< - tí . < ат/т: nwy t ; dan т aaaaaT'O I;:í .* • J ;,5 ba-w.aT To<- aroov tb r. po Tb;/ < n 0,< b • í ".м a. . О ат; * bJ vo ,i' b'Twofc, t aTvd b i'i'o.a, S.kbb í<> ba<; CT"! Ь4 >•;:?.;: a < ci''". lar т op b :''a< a "a слою » vrbba î vi-, f- т . ;' i,!,,,- \ ■', <• !.;' bbía. 1!*' oabkt it np, - ¡"b- b :5 '-'d I::.,".i 'h«; hah'-pja Ííj k; • ><«va, , • •:г,Ь l í Ь 4, L tb* i'-;,>f "у » - г par fa а а.> d by аау аГООГ «,Г aUV аО:ЬгГ~~Таа î;, faT-, î bit vor Ooubbl b"b'T, »Inj гт íit;' í,a>a,v к !w be • f IT т.» ОЛ pOatb .;V.' rywb'f \V lîh оаотн and il|»|--j;uí.4*' :i- îbt' ll-rouf íhv «la\ —that b.- ?',<• vná of b^r—j«t кг.'<л-.'-',-::!гу ; but, !.ату- w-HiM L"ivm Lí'fu v» ry * I : f ï% - • * 1; td h Ь.-,-;. Ь^лч t iîi-î"Ud "î 1><ЛТ} tb«; l.,Ti:r, Ii«; WXS l:«;h:íí» tl^" b;Id oiHlaw, The лгег-1 он the look ont fr>r bím îiîhI Iiîh IkühI, bul tb>y r^ubi;,': «'-с- thvoc-rii •ii.'ir (\t^, and, bí>:*if,-/, Hob:n b.ui *>|и-г;д»'' ,ч ."».'í."jrt. tíutt MiïL-'cif iijud hin шеи b«i f/oiHf. oil* to V>.rk« ««í that ib» î»b'i-'ir b.uî .-,nt a }.-trtyon a \v;M» «-Ici,-»,' then- ar t-r 1 bf-tíj, l :¿ í,. ¡:í.".;. b. f h" ю ap- ТлкЬи; ;itm cubiuily, lie at b.*: .U'i'bW, :u;«i. 1í< the f'crprí.^; oía!!, betb n,^; f her pu in t wrnf. into the oxir'-m«: nbbJ r. ííltV Mf th«? b.'bV cyf. "Now, iiHîiib" «аул ib oiHíi Л г Fi, Л Г i, * bl/ív 0:Jf * * * Иг ílLVil -, ;U.<Í binî'(;;,SV(//Vi /f b,!, îbr >-<<{ un :..Г',!*1, T!;i« b*/-t sli.'b Vrt, fi"bv,4 :i, I ItCT, Ncvt «'мак." и m:m .k ecKiMbt b » fbi;^ be ifib' -.vbïî, va-' 'LUTbiî!^ íí-.Ntr ít—hit lb' bib]'--' «i,.vt «Tf £o -|Tlk;; ¡;. (aj;,»r v '^'«l-, bis ;t'Ti;W .-{riK'b tía, // at rîcy n»*ar 'fhrn '--rnpprvi foitb .ni extreni^îy bTprtbr mñ^ v;-íc(ib '!?v,«'vil ail in Lbck, like- да bru!-;! ilaba u h<; ..iccla r.jd u»' vvoüid UHtlrrtuLr to bit tbc tari^t. hv чïiî a¡Tr,t;?Pi! aj'bndbifiy b, »* tra '>ris; ''. ;-,;ч;':л'!' 'H! iia-Ь fr.-./ц :,],<< wry ст* > Ki'rrnîuaibi;.? î;irsiî-'i4a|^-- >Ь(»<-к nîib гачаапо ',,'» ;л; afaí a, b" í î м '•->>]", tbíbk t'a,-, Ь.'а< к ana.* <: v/¡< • - Why, our *.::»йу la voloard. Scar bit bad Lit Uu та •'а1 ;-. "t- ítí«l УчтЬт \hc hhu , tb- па-аа",аа"Г ia -i Lb'. Л-!и; lab bit iba Ы<и>к, bu: JUbb, ,;'tiar.b La ai,- íloa.rx- ya:b. uItic laid ^{"»К»м1 tía- Wbr. Iba,\ J-aa í Ím'V hauiaayd ¡1? И< w :t, и î ia ba?»- î'fiîtad at ali r ft is imponible tn ^лу. pnrhapP. îi-^ walla r had т-.,?;)Ьт' fc^ d.o rtbb if, Of CTtr-ta ir there bad.bet-it ар)«Ьцн« bcí«те, íJi«¿re wer« ис«яш$ fiîoiv тиала l'bi т\к:п raa,., wbb <'Ьа*'Гч. 'I']¡,. air waa la'LMU.irjy faai all to {'H-ct-a wîtb ûm vibrai., byí vcîa-»'t: <»f |nc|/fí]ar a cela u s., d b л, Tbt' vicha bacana.' fia- wtbi-H ií! Ttí bixea and Г'*»дагЬе<1 turn аШ*т Ьг'1уТ'а»а" аа»га -и »'.an í} т • -fa-rib ..ra; h:- fr"»,,; Nar îiui»»-rt lb.íU'«r, hjvú ui tliu mau-/г. Hut t.hcrti '.v.i'-i *,t№ *T»'î! mon- fVrvcîii in нррЬшЬау ikaa: aay- b»,dv , it wíi.> îbt* fj-id} Магаац who. vast b* .a, ФшЬЬ-ЪнпаЛЬЛ fí¡«*m. ;fbi^. -аплЛаагаЬ tla- floury iba b'îT arid bit ;a aarTT il ua4 ítoi *ilt a* tb;il ^це^ w*f|-e eitfhUHtna dcani, :AtJ! r n i J .v, ..av ,. ¿'niia ís oí h oía.» i-a; í vas i; sjit¡,i.: joîln h î m чк!л<." lint Ibíbín, wbai la; &'¡ >a.rf « ч\ tbut а\аапп<д to iba Ьчгч-f, î boiigbt be vvoubi к L ib*, ¡-baaff кио'д b>w la; bUd tríib'aí him. ,чо in- tied a. »i.att- Ь. .i • г.av, aad btbaa it a* íia- f* laaa. Tb«, -fianfí picket u\i the ïa4-a4 aítd sa-aki— "Í)F4¡ Sí i;,—"' »Ñ.;d a<.aka¡. a:aí ya lia-, [a'k"-* i aai a al Пту fía' da! a?, aa'™ aarraaí. "ib па?." Шн ¡o/* Yon ía':V -'ti<'ÍTi глх<> л •i, f i.T î î tbc 'b 'k; îi f « i í îb' înrd «a" î,ba îiiawayr at >índ;m. "i tuîy" а-а> ; I wa^ bunt it baku% aw vt-rj ciaak-e ad buskot." ("daa, yuu to be able to aiiuot йо woil f*' ,TM lia- ,-lTdfí, - !к/ anarbt.id prac! ire in abbotiiit! the rn.-ia," r« Triad Iba маррачи! baktaa ** It'^ /-aphid .{Tt, t,(„)} 'dfunit* :l ^"ur La;' aiid bdtiag v'liia ч\й memj, Л j aoTs a.- la',' bad tcr^vrri tbi рплг, and madf lb- ~;y .-''b or, tb.if isfTa?af»rmn Boarar, Aiiâ Ыт ih*~i î;arc?îi yoi a ikK I j ¡ î y -•''•ча f.oa-y \vi>;kt Mar au. y!;pprd <'UÍ tkaf "wnb'% aaal of саш* fcaiud fbbn аЬ;,т; hj Lba >ab- Y"'a raay ('!к<;!д what wa:- üa- îaav-, b»: bad tu com« . îaaaiaa!»-, dimply, lhat b> bad a«at hb b".trt <«Vi-r !''in*'«' tjayv had ibar, u>vt, utA tk-uyî.l рагЬат día îiHgbt bav'„; pa^ktai b г.р 5 i,tbanvíat-, ba ^< ubi bava ín a.dv»Tb/a, aaal -.b- ;iv-' k.kkay- г.глаг-í. b sburt, he inured forth, a bvaatab а.л Ьк?' ría from um* orla-" lo rtaaxt í'ba-írnaa ïavbv^arTia ka Л1н1_а.ц Oaabr ai t/i<* т- doaai «Ф'. О а .« r« С"« bstív*," оааадой, Not to ke»'p the naador ía апрртта Tb'birds shiI 04 li?a 'dît -¿Vftu) fuby aícrcdfd. Mariaa aî<-t ab: ^•vTïd taiaiK a'ît/r^unis, .suaa.»t!îu» •• aetTbntaky t>\ dt,a-a'yq.( ar.d a" otb* r tuïst on ptjrpo-.». parai}' by H lier ¿iiipa bad su-p'-etad what wae ^oíng o": aader bb v«ay n«)a^ (\v!kca wa.-. of a t' autíf't o par, for above all p. ..pa- íh' baiaaf î.at.'d о»»,'г.-0 ,k. ;/ ,;nd ru-la/,^ a;aí J;.-.,4 of all ibbb Hood, vdn. ща<Ь мак; thu-Ь d, Sir Ht;port w;Uí ш« * avorsTto poaobiaat Ibal k*k w a jo n't coa. a tai i ^wb'i/ oir^. For soïîio tbao Marian laanair-al b'anlifolly: !,.-!,* -dy -a p->*r> d b« r a-.^iih;- 'bb íb«.aa; ií'/.b or that b' s«.ai! ber tiait biauitifal vakatioe cbc received one fir.г morning. Unly it vvaa n*>ticd 'k;0, •!'<• was i>mw рптй b' laa" lovora. î ha a a vor, T.d ма! ojaay'd tbaau awaj' with a b'artîiob* no dofîi'r^ <-ouM cur»,». b ! « o- bao1 Н'чаа'а! "rows "* v,;'b nor aapa b';Caa - a к" fcîbi r< fib cd to ютгу Sk Huid b'oíuí.a Hie baron, who didn't like ban?: disobcyod. vero r>n nt Ioh daii'-'ko r ¡a a baa ;-iyba :oid а]:т j.aid ok b< íli-Tíiiper oa lias a«, гошЬ, by t:t jrkidta "Tiimiibrütaloartb-pütko^ WLt do 1 b-bold?" vrml í)¡i' íano,,, líuo.a, aad <;;ra,-p!,a^ b:T«kort<'op€ bo ЬошаЬ-d down ¿Tur-, vn. ía-d tnrou^b tb* uaaab- Ьопяс w;th Fuch >poad ая to overturn Mr.*. Sodd~, who wa- d<>ia,^ tía' baby vauhui^ tub arid all, d»ov alora^ tin* ;Mrd«*r,. intot tS ro.u 0» tin- oaf*-, and. oimfmnttai tia: iuvors with Uie d«anean№* I'liaro wa? а оато 1 Marian ihrbïrd, Ь,.т pluckt, îaai. stood on Í ia (h i- .a«•iva-, oid bkjkaa what's the iataât i*uws» 1 "lîa.T^a!!" • aa« aj ^ ï ba, - baroaa^ rai .--ka g biV ba",c€f'po.. a Üv.ly your dangbo'r.;' ropbod oar herwt cTJ only k<;^ eado))кй. At that moment Tbbb took hob of on о arm oí f,bo dt*co»ipOM'd laiffiO, Marian naj/od tbo other, aad boîvoacn *!»».ш 'Ja у tnn'bä idin loand au* • ound like a tTtotnrr.. \\r!..a. b" oao' t*: йл hur< a fonia.i !акт., h fitíít^ ■,ч t\j> y..^. и,- addby а- л а''-»'Оа abb; b;.- ЬтЬ o-logoopo bréalo hiïo, and Robin atai Mariaii n-*- bora to be .-топ w.¡uíiü"y¡p Tr Ibp.-rf *oa-iibfa' *л;а i'o <«a.Oko blew no ail in с St.ananià, awl made evorv one of îiiom, T w IT« Ь''п»'Ьч:р»м' о. tb- к-.y b*bnUaTa ara- * Ьта ov. r rka,-** tb' î'i.abr'ao -," 'idiaa lia- b.::a,a Joapf ïîlîo от- x< ont ;тЬр to скат}?0а;г*< babbt ibd î к" on (l4'ï\- bad a ;r-;od aíaro ïla-y *лtait tu bava the кш/f tbd al Л"*.к; ingbara by tbo kob ,'kkjot *■! St. 3!arrow"ooatTj a pa nica br frkanl ».f Ipkb.ro ai) cararapo and bar о:; abb W. d. a/'/,., .-w ;\v::\y, to ^Ьтгку, n>. rrky: sly, n>. rrky r&tK iue< МЫ ,, tuf ch;wejre straws;; лог \whether it was| the'balmy summer's freeze ^bearing health and; joy upon its pinions? _" I It caused him no ;ioy his ¿heartwas dead ,tó that. V % Hehadigrown caHous^to all feeling, immured! as he .was in a living itomb. J Now they had given Ihimiliberty when the^gift! was pf no use. CHAPTER I. THE OATHiOF VENGEANCE. All tthese thoughts crushed through the -old man's poor dazed head as he.leancd.-against the railings. Suddenly he was aroused to life Iby a stern voice at khis, elbow. "Movelpn/'itiSaid ; " and get home." A shudder iran*through ihis frame. I (t Home! I wonder where iit is Г hemuttered,! as he slowly moved from the place that had so long been his home. He came to the corner of the street, and then looked confusedly round him from the left to the right. The old church was still there ; he remembered" that twenty-seven years ago, for he passed it when they were taking him into prison. He had often heard its bell toll, and wondered who was dead, and then a shudder ran through him. Perhaps his wife or one of his children I He had a wife and two children when he en- tered his living grave. As he stood bewildered, not knowing which way to turn, he felt a hand placed heavily upon his shoulder. "What are you loitering about for, eh, old chap?" said a policeman. "It strikes me you will see the inside of a prison." "What, again ?" said the old man. "Oh, you have been in one, then?" "Yes, yes ; twenty and seven Jong-years," was the reply; and that was said in sucha mournful tone that the policeman stared at him. "Eh, twenty-seven years! Your brain-pan; is a little out of order, my man. They couldn'tJ give you so much as that." 'Í And the man laughed. "Couldn't ; but they did, every day of it." "Not a bad joke of yours, old fellow." "Joke, eh; you wouldn't have found it any joke, I can tell you. Calls twenty-seven years in prison a joke. The world is strangely altered since I was in it before." "In it before I why, what the devil do you mean? I suppose you'll try and convince me that you have been dead and buried and come out again." "Well, and so I have ; I have been dead to the world ; buried in a prison twenty?seven years, Г can teU you. Don't you believe me?" "No," said the policeman; "but I can make a very strong guess where you have come from.", "Indeed t—-where?" "Where I—From a place called Colney Hatch." The old man looked with an inquiring face at the policeman for a moment. "Colney Hatch !—where is that?" At this moment they were joined by another of the force. "What's up now, Pole-axe ?" said the last one. "Well, blest if I know ; here is an old chap, dodging about, who says that he has had twenty- seven peh'orth." "Oh, that be blowed," replied the other. "What was it for, eh, Daddy?" "Nothing at all." "Ah. that's always the case; and so you have been" ".Twenty and seven years in a prison, locked^ iUp jfrom wife, children and friends; and for twenty-five years Ilhave ?never seen or heard of Ithemi "Don't think that H .am ;lying,because I. say so. I itell twenty years that I »have stood in the ^streets;of (London. iOh, God! phy.Godíl I wonderif tfliey.axe living 1" And as he lifted his vwantface uptfoîHeaven dtheitears stood in ihis eyes. 'The ^policemen looked iwonderingly at each other. '" Well, [but where^was the prison?" "iCorae Шаек iwith мпе, :and IUI show it to *you." Theyidid so. K" That was where I *was dead and buried, and ÏÏ. am only.sorry ijthat they have turned me out, ¿hatfs all." e' And he sighed heavily. , "Ah, I understand it now .a little 'better. 'You see, amew Act of Parley ment ;has come into, force, JPole-raxe, and .they-can't :lock up aman now for debt;; and soithisis one of .the gaol-birds : that has (found its Evings. \What >was it put you in,:eh^Qldifellow?" -"Treachery of a friend—perjury," was the [ answer.; "that itvwas that,tore me from a happy home." "Well, I advise you to get to it as fast as you can." "Ah, that's easily: said, but I don't know the jpad." "The deuce you don't; well, where did you live?" said the man. "Why, there, I tell you." And he pointed to the prison. "No, no, I don't mean that; I mean before they put you in there." "Oh, ah, I see; well, it was down at a place they call Woolwich." "Woolwich !—that's a precious long way off." "I don't care about that ; I only want putting in the road, that's all. Long way I I never thought so when I used to walk to London. I suppose I can go over the fields?" "The fields 1—what fields?" "Why, the fields all along till you come put by the old * Elephant and Castle,' where the coaches stop." The men stood looking at the poor liberated fellow with countenances of pity and compassion, and then they whispered to each other. "Yes, I can do that," said one of them; "and I will too. Do you think, if you were put upon London Bridge" "London Bridge I yes, that's right enough; I remember that; and the Monument." "Ah, yes; that will do. Now, then, I'll put you almost in a straight line for the bridge, and ;then you can toddle on, can't you?" Oh, yes, I can;get.on well enough." "That's right. Come along; because if you are seen loitering about, you'll be taken up before the Lord Mayor." "Oh, then, there is a Lord Mayor? It's twenty-nine years since I saw one." "Ah, well, come along." "I am ready. Good-night, sir." "Good-night, old fellow; and joy go with you." "Joy! /shall never know that again. I have 'returned to the world,' it is true, but I shall not find one hand hcld~out .to .welcome me." "Ah, well, don't look on. the gloomy side of -the- picture. There is always -a little light behind the darkest cloud, old boy." "I thought so once; but those walls told me a different tale. If there is to be any light for me, it is the light beyond the grave. Good-bye." He moved off slowly, followed by the man who had so kindly offered to put him on the road. They walked along in silence, each wrapped in his own reflections. At the corner of Moorgate Street the police- man stopped. "I can't go any further with you, old man," he said, "because I shojuld be off my beat." "Don't you do anything to wrong yourself, my friend; that would be making matters worse than they are." "That's right. I see you have got your heart in the right place." !" Heart 1 I haven't got much left; but what is left has only one feeling," was the fierce reply. "And what is that, eh?" "Vengeance 1" and he glared in the man's face with eyes that seemed like two burning coals; his form seemed to lose its decrepitude, as he stood for the moment erect. "Vengeance on my destroyer if he lives. I will have it, as there is a just and holy God above me I" He threw his hand.aloft, as though to register the oath, and, so fierce and startling was the action, that the .-policeman shrank back for an instant. "Why, you won't do a murder, will you, at last?" he said. "No, no; I'll not shed blood. There arc other ways of vengeance besides that," he said, gloomily. "Well, you know best about it. Keep straight pn, until you come to the Mansion House, then itum jto the left, and you'll come right on the bridge. , >Yqu have got a good warm coat on, and so youwilLbe able to keep out the cold." "Yes; the .governor gave me that, and the shoes, and theirest of the things. He is a good, kind man, and I. shan't easily forget him." •" Well, I amalad to hear it. We are not all so black as wc are painted." He pulledt'aflask out of his pocket. "Take a pulLout of that, and wish me a Happy New Year." "I do, I do," said the poor fellow, grasping his hand. "Don't be afraid of it ; it is brandy, and can't hurt you." He took a deep draught, and then handed it back to the policeman. "A Happy New Year to you, old man," said the officer, tasting it slightly. "Tliere, now put the flask in your pocket, and if you *feel your heart fail you as you go along, why take a pull at it." "You are very kind, and J should like to see you again. What's your name? I shan't forget it." "I dare say not; it .will makenick- names given to them; so if at any time you want to find me, you must ask for Bath Brick." March i, 1870 j 2Ö7 BOYS OF ENGLAND. He took bis hand and shook it heartily. "And now good-bye, old man, and God bless Jou on your journey." And pressing something in his hand, the next foment he disappeared down a court close by. The moon was shining brilliantly, causing -every object to stand out clearly and distinctly. He looked at what the man had pressed in his band. "A shilling 1" he muttered. "Ah, well! twenty-seven years ago I little thought it would come to this. 1 don't want for money; I want vengeance, and I will have it." He walked on, looking up at the tall houses "that seemed almost built for palaces, and mut- tering to himself. More than once he paused, putting his hand up to his head, and gazing about him completely; -bewildered. Then he would stop and look round him with * scared and frightened look. His limbs shook under him, for a long time had passed before they had been used to such -exertion, and the fresh air came so strangely upon him that he panted for breath. At last he passed out by the Bank, staring -and wondering at all he saw, and was not long before he pressed his feet upon the bridge. He walked slowly across it until he reached the centre, and then he paused to look round him. It was a grand—a sublime sight. The heavens were studded with millions of; •stars, and the great orb of night seemed to shine out with more than its usual bril-] liancy. \ He saw places on all sides that had risen -up' лз if by magic since he had been shut out from life. j He started and clung to the hard granite as, л train rushed across the river like a fiery' meteor. "What in the name of Heaven is that 2'* he. mustered. And so alarmed was he that he would have rushed from the spot if his poor trembling limbs would have allowed him. But he seemed rooted to the spot. At that moment the great bell of Saint Paul's boomed out across the silent waters— •one 1 The sound came so suddenly as to cause him to shrink within himself, and fall heavily against the bridge, and then the flood-gates of bis heart seemed unloosed, and, bursting into «tears, he covered his face with his hands. "Oh, why, why should I live? Have I not re- turned to the world? and are not those I love in their graves?" He turned round, and with a hurried gctze looked upon the dark, flowing river. Horrid thoughts passed rapidly through his brain. At that moment he felt the sleeve of his coat .gently .pulled. He looked down, and there, by his side, stood a lad looking earnestly up in his face. "What are, you about to do ?" he said, in a low rtone of voice. "About to do I what mean you?" » Were you going to jump over the bridge?" "Of course he was 1" said a gruff voice, "I have been watchingthim for along time." "Watching ще 1 what for?" "Because 1 could see that you are in trouble; 'and that, like a great many more, you have come here to take the leap in the dark Г "I had no such intention, my friend, I can assure you," was the reply. "Ah, that won't do. I am always on the look- out to prevent unfortunate people from doing themselves a mischief; and if ever I saw an in- dividual about to make a hole in the water, you ■are the man Г By this time they had been joined by a police- man. "What's up now, Joe?" he asked. "Oh, only another case, Tozoy. This old gen- tleman was about to tell the difference between '*be top of the bridge and bottom of the water. Comed out of prison I dare say and wants to give a receipt in full to his creditors." "Ah, it's very likely; there are a good many owe their lives to you, Joe," said the policeman. "Well, yes; but lor' bless you, what of them in the water, and stopping those that want to jump in, I've saved a matter of twenty. You see there ain't much 'use for- a. waterman now. l} dare to say the old 'un here remembers the time when old Father Thames couldn't d© with-■ out us!'' "Oh, yes, I remember the time well enough," he rep'iied, looking wistfully around. "What are you looking for ?" ^said the man called Joe. "Well, I was looking for the boy that was \ standing by me just now." \ And he strained his eyes in all directions. "Well, boy or not, make the best of your way home, or I'll find you lodgings for the night,"" growled out the surly guardian of the night.; "Home 1" he muttered, "I wonder where that! is I" "Don't growl and grumble, but get along; and go down on your knees and'thank heaven that Joe Stack was on the bridge 1" , "But I say that I was not about to—not about," —not about to do it. I say, that you were to" "There, move on; and, as I said before, get, home, or I shall lock you up." So saying, placing his hand upon his shoulder, the gruff policeman impelled him forward. "But I want to know about the boy. I want" "I dare say you do; but I know nothing about a boy, except one I am on the .look out for; an#*it won't be well-for'him if I catch' him." ! Fearful that he should bring the boy—the sight' ¡ of whom had awakened sudi a strange, absorbing [•interest in his breast—into some trouble, he went. slowly fonvard in the direction in which his home lay. Strange to say, as he walked along, he. turned round several times to try if he could' see him; but his eyes could only discover the old waterman and the policeman in earnest conversation. 'Sighing* heavily, he crossed over the bridge, at, times feeling, as he gazed upon the mighty changes that had taken place, as though he was walking in some long, strange dream. All was new; and he rubbed his eyes to be' certain that he was awake. Aye, aye, this placeas indeed changed since I passed i6 twenty and seven years ago. It seems as though I had arisen from the grave, r Ah, well, let me go on. I dread every step I take; but it must be done, though it led to death itself." * * * * "Are they gone ?" said a voice close to him. He started, and turned round. He was passing at that time a narrow entry, which led down to one of the railway stations. There was a gas lamp burning over it, and it threw its'beams directly 'down upon a face, that was peering out from the darkness. "I see you got away from them, and so did I," said the owner of that face. "Yes, yes. Are you the lad that spoke to me on the bridge?" <* I am the lad." And with that answer he came out into the broad, open street, "I—I thought I had lost you, my boy," said the old man, tremulously. "No; I didn't want to run away from you,but I didn't like those men." "Have you done anything wrong, that you should fear them ?" said the old man, taking his hand within his. "No, I have never done wrong to any, one, although X have been cruelly wronged and treated; but I was not the boy to put up with that, and so I got away." "What, ran away from your employer?" "Ha, hal Well, I like that l-'employer, indeed 1 I wonder who made him my master? Whatever are you looking at?" While this conversation was going on, they had both been standing underneath the Ump, | which, strange to say, for a London lamp,, gave' out rather a good light. ) During the latter uart of the conversation, ■ the man, who had never taken his eyes off the boy's face, seemed suddenly struck by some powerful thought, for he tore open his coat, and thrusting his hand between his waist- coat and shirt, pulled out a small gold chain, to which something heavy and round was attached. Then gazing at it, and casting his eyes down upon the boy, he turned pale and faint, as though some sudden illness had seized upon him. "Great God of justice anä mercy I—can it be possible ?" he murmured. "I say, what have you* got there in your hand? It seems as if you had seen a ghosts "No matter, no matter!" the man hurriedly^ said. "It is indeed a spectre of the past;11 he said, in a tone so low that his companion could not hear him. "What now, boy,"what,now,2" "Well, we had better be going from here. I can hear the tramp 6ï а policeman.*' And he bent forward to listen. "Right, right," replied the man, hastily. a Which road are you going?" "Any road ;. it don't matter much," was the reply. "With me?—with me?" said the man, with such energy that he seemed to have shaken off for a time the decrepitude of old age and in- firmity. "Oh, with all my heart," was the reply. "I don't think that you will harm me." "Harm you 1—Great Heaven I—not for the boundless wealth of the world. And hark ye; it will go hard with any one that may try to do so. Come, let us jog on together." They hurried on' until they reached the "Elephant and Castle.1' There the man stopped suddenly, looking around him as though bewildered. "What's the matter now?" said the^lad.' "It used to be there," he said, pointing to the place. "I remember it. well." "What used to be there, eh, old fellow ?"' said a rough-looking man, who, attracted by the action of the man, stopped. "Why the old * Elephant and Castle,' was the reply. "The old—ha, ha! why, you haven't been near here for some time, I can see." . "Twenty and seven years," .was the mournful reply. "Been abroad, mayhap; got lost." i "Lost, yes, lost to all the world: buried alive!" And he sank his head upon his breast. The man looked sX them' both for a moment. "Has the old 'un been long like this, my lad?" at length he said. "But where are you bound for, eh?" "Woolwich; a mile beyond it," said the man. "Why, what arc you going to do-at Woolwich at this time, supposing you get there?" "Do? Find out my friends1,; that is, if,1 have any left," replied the old man. "What, at this time in the morning? Why, you and that boy will be frozen to death. The wind has shifted, ánd before long it will blow the blood to a standstill. Don't you think you had better get into some shelter?" "Shelter—where?" "Ah! hang me if I know. There is no place open now," arid* the engine-driver—for he was one of that useful and deserving class of men- paused for a moment, and then, as if all his doubts were settled, he placed his hand upon the shoulder of the man, who, either from the in- tensity of ,his emotions, or the severity of the cold, began to tremble violently. "Follow me; at least you shall have warm quarters until daybreak." He turned quickly round, and walked for some little distance up the street until, he came to a building from which a light shone brilliantly. Here he paused, and tapping at one of the windows, the next moment a dark shadow appeared against it. "All right, Jack," said the man. With that the door opened, and a man ap- peared at it. "What have you come back for, Dick?" he said. "Lost anything?" I "No," replied the man; *« fouud something, ! and" 22* BOYS OF ЁХ01ЛЖХ (í Wall» Hier,, bFaa j* aa aab ; : :к bíd-o it." ;ti»i.4 '/.. hF V'.',? buv <Ьа • „ bd./,, и Ail i/ybl I у. a « aa) íi;¡v a,- lor." ;/-ad act it.-ï:; H was П<>1 yo ïa/aab ff ir l/VaaF a-¡ \V;;íi tb;íl ba ч-yyF a-, ta • boy F mi i b»' «,r :ш<1 %v<»nt i'j'í"í!t. ( y,{"t<;lY uwrnowoivd 11и• bm% who bad Ь!'|-п *• I Faa/d ad', F>< you *o do Fa' О'ь", "i •! aa aaoFaa" vat and íabany asicop. *• My lu an. is ♦.<«. hü fa --l.^'h." le îiîuM T'vi. Л í-h-'u'**',v«,> ч>,г, <• b; м w%\ Fr<: ':; îv ?i* a, aj < a-: k-* van'b/i¡,>. oF" ■ '■ *J < F bo :i < ." ' <í ;F- b/,a a F м i-! Ь iïÍ ^ X Vi 11. - . ¡i г. ,;íj4_r jts ;'»'< Iii:, i. v, arinl ¡i. TL-, íüdá.;íi intti-ilkui K\'p< й-j g * *t;!in jm«l îîî" l'.^y. this: -h-v ,~чгГ i- a'av. Л hl'AU'ú r«rv í íi.eüi и- ;^ti 'i f»'- mar! Ь-f 1 iïî ffiar^Míí !h** ,k from bií- Ъг"пч the T»irji:tt пп\ and г.гса Л-'-п- îb<« Ihw; iruîtranîrôiî th«-¡ r i i и i I vM »шТп":и/г-•! ^-i- u-' м< cve. Ни- i»a»r ivlii« had .чи inw-xpi-rn.dly . :i.o{cimf fr,.nn ane to tbi other. * ä lídib to print ami publish F-idr V,Pi.}j,.ft<' wi?U îh',Jr!"i! Ь ui'*;î' 1 и,!« "С v.asina- Ьа- а „ ;ÎK, a^raa.u га-а^а -î ;аг a. ír,¡, 'f d bv ^г' F -: ¡zraplí clerk, lac is v/aitm;/ tao,' , i-ü-ii ib-U ii, | antj fi.f. f.or,.,,™T)*a^, -T.ad's Fad,yF' I THF. CASTAWAYS ¡' Tí a, la • ','F b .'v. '/ Г' M -F-'". • î" I ff,J,i а,; г., rb: it1;-;, of FF,, f st Fta,r nv> \ i> s тип H г %гпч jn;:t faint ly pi **'pïïitr in IF' a a;' « -! • ' a a • í '.' ovo" !la' " si aî :>.»• ' «*< \'лх- ar Ma aI т;с,л *a f aiaj Atal, laav. "î wai !iK*k a»a í j;t,a> T2p the f»r abb yo , F Í ,!...,'■ b FaF" Fm'' ^ ,\î îa.- b '"-f axaat ivb'1 w¡¡- Fa* ü"'!v, V, al! Fa , 'Л Шаа, a:al \ hv \ и * v a i:< a- F>F -'IFiaL Uaa * Aral Faab ■■ ' by :п..: Л- ■ Ni , <4M'ia.w;y îi a bv ata! м ^ Г! oy, '« > ■ a î \ и' i, a - b ío \S M'-.hV'Ol; «! Ja,< , î a! V' iaa? a 't-af old a the whole 1 "Ubaa, !•' ; aad I a;r, not Fa,<- aaa; di,,aaaM raoïii,,! tba . aF, Wava Fa' ■■■d a (a-a I Faw ^ la»! oj î aans a 'f 'o.din": ,*!»■'.,' F" , . aaa'' ai iih *'.»Id. 1 F, --ya* of Шу -va «Л,I LHlaa. a; viVi- L * BupptiM.'it. lit- bad Faai out ятЛ\ a ¡aa s;s* tbaa, wiFa.u? a íóof 1<» f biaa л'-и? 1 you яау ta, í !a! ü.,'Uí \v!a> w-abb a'F"(i ::i ■a-, rbV - V S.b ïp.^ v> b- Í" S о a, bioua- ÍmrdíN клон v. bal. ¡o 's*}, V»Fb ■ ■;; ■> a,í a: ?' ,o' < '» a' íi/.u ,a"' 1 < \ ■ >; aai a warn a by !)•>■ ;ír ■. *'j¡ ;' "'Î d'H *f rxa i «y ' a> tab; and i - v aa •' ^, v b! ia4 iib, ■ :t W, II, ÍÍF i-fd?..'" aa - a- Fad a;,. • ■ î Fa lia bad -.a f,. а ra ;ааа ;1. IF biaai:' . F - f>! -v. ; aab I Л- Г!а' л ааа a,at,t, i.ítv. ab . • aa И-ок aM --«aa a ad and b a :, '•la daij-.Fa! #rter timed том ; lia ,'b: a a-;od , " Ai.d'b- /а,', a,e;a"". i- ьа-и,:' bF • :tr. uvxm' \ *>> aifiiaaa^o. : ara/.'. - 'о" - il career, was m a state 1/ 4o> 1 ;F inb 1 'Ar u, î ' -va ;.1 ::■ va;i¡¡ío Ff "1: i!) aa! Fa ,u ■ . ibr 1 :'- tbo r,v:; ¡ir 4' F i aaF b aa <, ,,Fy са-.ч ,baa, s« ' г: a !"r la//,- b;. л -'.а'). Ьа/ . 1 - a> 'ai a* Hile, '"' J" Tí aayb/ /п\ а „«а* »íj t и F a;, ífi;/. bo F1' un 'hh i - !!а/ -; '.vid b<* F о ¡ Aî/b *o F.íV. |;v t'aa ü F.-< (al bao' \vabaa,,-d J< v inaav a Tin- F aFa» F jFaa < a «; 01 f'^ уоа/ау/ fire Is bett la fha fa ■a vou ааа» d. "b of \aaa I F/ал and 1 wish )• 'o \.\:¡\. ига ol '• ^>d d I baía*: í F, • ' à ' aa г о |, f; \ íio'a tíaa'a i F >л^>-\oí, J ^ |"a,. Fibar 'a,a b ad î/a^t • that lie W€ If /a --a ,,F I la- laara :a*aa* wia "ib aao. 1 -a;,,..;.,, yoa b.'iV<» ^'.f^.a-F^ j /у da: i', aa • Да/ F //./¡'o f , г-FiFü ab ba- aa! 'F. '- aa -п/^аа.* «a !: -иг î■ aa bai' ! , ■ Iv .'V/a'l .'' ■ I , b »u- saaí-.l.) tiieir grave a, r - 230 [Ма*гп 1,187«. BOYS OF ENGLAND. TOM LESTER: «•II, THE SECRET ОБ* ТИБ RED POCKET-BOOK. By ibû Author of «* Bob LumleTs Secret." О H APTEIL X_— (continued.) §H, Master Tom, what will become on us now ?'* exclaimed Diet, in a lugu- brious tone. i alf we- arc not poisoned by the effluvia of this filthy hold before we reach Muscat, we shall then, I trust, be free," replied Tom. "Cheer up; Dick ; it is riot a very long vcyagc to Muscat, and we will hope for the \ best." л i They were in urtal darkness, in the midst o£a hundred wretched negroes, many of whom were women, and breathing a fetid and stifling atmo-1 sphere, compared with which that of the hold of the " Boadicea" was tolerable. Tlie poor wretches were packed as close as; oxen aboard a steamer engaged in the cattle j trade; and that is as strong a comparison as can' be used. I There was just as little regard for their com-1 fort, too, as was compatible with their transport alive to the port of disembarkation. CHAPTER XL H. Ы. S. "NEMESIS." The horrors of the night came to an end at last, and Tom and his companions, half-stifled, and suffering from nausea, were ordered on deck with the negro captives whom the Arab captain had brought from Zanzibar to sell to the chiefs and merchants of Muscat. They were glad to escape from the darkness and effluvia of the hold into the sunlight, and the fresh breeze which they enjoyed on the deck, and they drew long breaths, and swept the horizon eagerly with their eyes in quest of a passing sail. No sail was in sight, no lino of smoke indi- cated the position of a distant steamer. The captain was on the deck, but as he did not understand English, and Tom and his com- panions were equally ignorant of Arabic, they abstained from attempting to hold any com- munication with him. They joined in the morning exercise of their fellow captives without expostulation or resist- ance, therefore, and the Arabs seemed to derive much mental satisfaction from the reflection that they held in bondage two boys of Eng- land. They were trotting up and down the deck, when the captain gave some command in a loud voice, and the whole of the captives were imme- diately hurried below, but not until Tom and his companions, who were the last to descend, had discerned the cause of the unwonted inter- ruption in a long horizontal wreath of dark smoke far ahead of the dhow. "That is a British cruiser* depend upon itV* exclaimed Tom, as he followed his companions. "If they keep a sharp look-out, they will over- haul this old tub in a few hours* and. liberate us." "Hooray 1" cried Dick, brightening up at the intelligence, whilst Snowball expressed his feel- ] ings thereat in a ludicrous caper, which brought i upon him the displeasure, and with it the cane,! of the Arab superintendent*. The course of the steamer was watched by the Arab captain with;,* considerable anxiety, for, though the British cruisers stationed in those waters for the; suppression, of the trainee in slaves were seldom met with so far north, it was not that of the mail steamer from Suez, and, while few vessels at that time visited Kurrachee, she was not in the usual track of vessels coming from Bombay. ^ The dhow did not appear to be seen, and she was kept, therefore, on the same course. The steamer was comjng down under sail as well as steam, anct approached them sp rapidly that they were soon withjp hail. The dark brows, of- the Arab, captain and his mate contracted, and their lips were closely compressed, as they stood upon the deck of the dhow, with , their dark eyes fixed upon the ad- vancing steamer, and saw the Union Jack run up, and a puff of white smoke issue from her side. They know that this was a signal for them to lay to ; but the captain, with an air of determina- tion worthy of a better cause, had every stitch of canvas set to the favouring breeze, and pre- parations made for defence. The two brass guns were made ready, am- munition brought on deck, and small arms loaded and primed. All at once the breeze rose to a gale, and the steamer, being the first to be caught by it, plunged so deeply in the water that her canvas, beginning with the sails of the mizen rigging, had to be taken in to prevent her from straining, and as a precaution, against the loss of a sail or a spar through the violence of the gale. The Arabs,disregarded these dangers, and the dhow dashedi oyer the foaming sea like a mad thing. While the crew of the steamer were taking in her sails she steamed steadily on in the direction of the'dhow, gaining upon the flying vessel every minute. "Those smpke-vomiting monsters must surely be an inventibn of Eblis!" muttered the Arab captain, as he saw how swiftly the steamer came on. "Sec, Hassan,, how she comes through the foam, without a.sail seti" He had scarcely spoken when a second puff of white smoke issued from one of the steamer's larboard bow ports, followed by a sharp report, and a round shot came spinning through the rigging of the dhow. "Shall we show them our teeth, captain?" said Hassan, with a grim smile, as an upward glance showed him that no injury had been sus- tained. The captain nodded, and Hassan, having first given orders for tacking, so as to bring the dhow's head more to northward, proceeded to train one of her guns upon the steamer's stern, with the view-of disablipg either her steering apparatus or the machinery of her screw. As the dhow came into the required ; position, ih obedience to the change in her helm and, in the direction of her sails, Hassan applied the slow-match to the touch-hole of the gun, and, as a cloud of white smoke rose from the vessel's side, the report boomed over the ocean in answer to the shotted gun of the British steamer. As the smoke cleared away the captain and mate looked eagerly for indications of the effects of the shot, but could discern none. "Jehanum confound her 1" exclaimed the captain. "She must be shot-proof. Those sons of dogs can do anything, I verily believe." "Eblis must surely help them I" rejoined Hassan, with lowering brows. "That puffing monster walks the waters like a demon of the seas 1" Another puff of smoke from the steamer's side, another loud report, and another round shot whizzed through the air. There was a sharp snap heard above the heads of the Arabs, and one of the dhow's sails flut- tered loose in the gale. '"Let it go !" cried the captain, with a fierce oath. "Let the unbelieving dogs hear both our guns, Hassan?" Bang—bang! The strong wind dispersed the sulphurous smoke before the reverberations of the reports had died away across the ocean, and, as the vessels were now near enough for what was passing upon the deck of either to be seen from the other, the Arabs saw that their fire had splintered the steamer's starboard bulwarks, and killed or seriously wounded more than one of. her crew. The steamer continued to come steadily on, however, and her next shot cut away the Jar- board shrouds of one of the dhow's masts. There was a crack, a crash, and, amidst the howls of the Arabs, the mast went over the side, dragging with it spars, canvas, and cordage in inextricable confusion. e Axes were immediately brought into requi-, sition to clear away the wreck; but, before the dhow could be released from this check upon her speed, the steamer ran down upon the opposite, side. The Arabs had barely time to discharge their small arms before, with a ringing cheer, a score of British sailors, armed with cutbsses and boarding-pikes, leaped upon the deck of the dhow. A fierce conflict ensued, but it was of brief duration. The crew of the slaver fought with desperate courage; but they were overpowered by the English, and were presently driven aft, with diminished numbers. The remnant, fighting madly till every man was disabled, were disarmed and secured. Then the hatches were raised, and Tom and Dick presented themselves, to the surprise of the victors. i "English boys in the hold of an Arab dhow,; amongst slaves 1" exclaimed the first lieutenant. , "We were left on one of the Maldives,, sir, and this rascally Arab offered us a.passage," said Tom. "We did not know, when we came aboard, that he was a slaver, or even that he was bound to Muscat.*' "What ship do you belong to?" inquired the lieutenant. "The ' Boadicea,* of London, Captain Bowler," replied Tom. "She has proceeded on her voyage to Calcutta without us, as I believe, intcntion- ially; but as Dick, here, and myself were in- voluntarily on board the vessel, in consequence Of my yacht having been run down by Captain Bowler, I have no doubt intentionally, we should be glad to be put aboard any homeward-bound vessel, or ashore at the Cape." "Is that Secdi boy one of your companions Vr inquired the lieutenant, who had listened with' mingled curiosity and surprise to our hero's' story. "He was on the ship's books, sir, and was sent ashore with us on one of the Maldives," replied Tom. :e.' "You must tell me more another time," said , the lieutenant, with a smile. "At present I do. not quite comprehend your story. In the mean- time, come with me aboard her 'majesty's ship « Nemesis,' and bring Dick and the Scedi with you." While, this conversation had been going on, a rope had been made fast from the head of the dhow to the stern of the steamer, the wreck of the dhow's mast had been cut adrift, and the bodies of the slain Arabs had been committed to the deep. Tom, followed by Dick and Snowball, accom- panied the first lieutenant aboard the " Nemesis," which immediately proceeded to the south-west, with the dhow in tow. CHAPTER XH. TOM'S LEGACY. FOE several days the "Nemesis" steamed on, with unvarying fine weather, the steady trade wind obliging her to use her screw, to avoid the alternative of tacking—which, for the benefit of landsmen, it may be here observed, means sailing in a zigzag course, to avail of a contrary wind. Tom felt more at his ease now than he had done any time since the yacht had been run down; and it was only now that he thought of the old red pocket-book, which had been be- queathed to him by the old man whom he had picked off a drifting fragment of wreck. ^ He had placed it in his jacket pocket at the time, and it had remained there ever since. It was not until a fine, calm evening, a week after the capture of the dhow, that he examined it, sitting on a gun at the time, with /Dick lean- ing over the bulwarks near him. It had been saturated with sea water to such an extent that it was in a ruinous condition, and threatened to drop to pieces in his hands on being opened. He did not expect, after what had been said to him by the poor waif of ocean to whom it had belonged, to find in it bank-notes or valu- able securities of any kind; and curiosity in its mildest form was the only feeling with which he at length opened it. He was not disappoint* d, therefore, to findv that it contained only a small map, roughly drawn in outline with a pencil, of a portion of, the Australian colony now known as Victoria, but which was then included in South Australia, MAIICH 1. 187H.J 231 BOYS OF ENGLAND. and a piece of paper on which the following memorandum was written :— "Mount Alexander, in a bird line from the north-west point of the Black Forest. "Stream running at right angles with line. ** Three gum trees at point of intersection. "From this point keep on right bank to fall. "Left of fall, under the grass trees.' This was all. "Little enough !" thought our hero, when he had glanced at the map and read the memo- randum accompanying it more than- once. "What a queer legacy! I declare it is an enigma. What is there under the grass trees, I wonder, supposing those identical trees to be found?" He glanced again at the map, and saw what it represented by the names written upon it, which were limited, however, to Port Philip, Black Forest, and Mount Alexander. The existence of gold in that'region was then a very recent discovery, and BallarafcandCastle- maine were yet to be founded. "Port Philip I" mentally ejaculated our hero. "Ah, I remember that he said he was homeward" bound from Port Philip, poor fellow Г But what I these papers mean is more than J can-make out.! It is a riddle." He read the memorandum again and again, but was as far from having; any idea of the' solution of the enigma involvedin it as at first. He was roused from his contemplation of his singular legacy by the sudden darkness of the sky, and, looking up, saw that, from the western horizon to the zenith, it had assumed a wild and gloomy appearance, such as he had never wit- nessed before. Dark clouds overspread all that portion of the heavens, not like the black cloud which had heralded the gale in the Mozambique Channel, but broken up into masses of the strangest forms, fading off at their edges into the coppery- brown patches that filled in the spaces between. *V "Hollo 1" said he, looking around anxiously. "What do you think of that sky, Dick?" "I don't like the looks of it, Master Tom," replied the young sailor, gravely. "Here have , we been steaming for days and days to avoid j going on the starboard tack, and now, all of a zudden* up comes them queer-looking clouds." "Here, Snowball!" said Tom Lester, calling to the negro lad, "you know the signs of the heavens in this latitude. What weather are we going to have?" "Wind, Massa Lester," replied Snowball, re- garding the sky apprehensively. "Plenty of him, too. Presently you see. Den ship go like dis." The lad ran a few yards along the deck, with his body inclined very much to one side, and making lurches like a man under the influence of alcohol. AH at once the steamer leaned ever to larboard so much that he was thrown off his legs, and rolled to that side of the deck before he could recover, his equilibrium. Tom. was pitched oft the gun upon which he was sitting, and hurled with violence against the mizon-mast, - receiving some severe contusions from the contact, and Dick only saved himself from being thrown down by holding on to a rat- line. At the same time,the wind, which now blew a gale from the west, howled through the rigging like-a chorus- of infernal spirits.' Snowball gathered himself up with a ludic- rous expression of fear and wonder upon his sable countenance; and Tom Lester,, holding on by a stay with one hand, rubbed his head with the other. As the steamer's masts and funnels resumed tiic perpendicular as much as was possible with the wind blowing so strongly upon her starboard 4Uavter, a cloud of steam arose from the hatch- ways, and for a moment surrounded everything andeverybody with a vapoury veil.. The water had rushed in as the 6hip leaned 0yer on her beam ends, and extinguished the fires; The vapoury cloud sped swiftly to leeward before the rushing wind, through which the yoice of thq first li(Miien:mt could be heard call- lng to the man at the \vl.<- 1. The steamer Ы1 чй h г (n.u^o. to leeward before the fierce gale that was now blowing'' with her deck at a considerable angle to the foamy sea, and officers and seamen clinging to shrouds and stays to keep themselves upon their legs. As the night advanced the sky grew darker, still preserving the mottled appearance which it had presented at the commencement of the gale, and the sea was everywhere white with foam. About midnight a snap was heard astern, and the next moment the dhow was seen laid upon her beam ends, with:tKè furious waves breaking ,over her deck. ! The tow-rope Had snapped, and she was drop- ping astern. \ In the* darkness of that tempestuous night she was; soon lost to the sight of those who anxiously watched her from the deck of the steamer. Towards daybreak-the force of the gale had somewhat abated,.but the sea ran higher than before. As the pitchy darkness yielded to the semi- jobscurity- of early morning the eyes of those :upon deck were turned^ anxiously- seaward in "quest of the dhow. ; She was seen to be still afloat, and at a less 'distance from the steamer than had been an- ticipated. Before noon the gale had abated so much that, an attempt was made to start the engines again:; but before steam could be got up, the broken clouds joined their jagged and copper- tinted edges, and the wind, veering suddenly to the north-west, blew with such violence that the ship plunged like a restive horse against the strong southern current, and was driven farther and farther out of her course. The dhow was first caught by the furious blast, and was driven deeply into the foaming sea by the resistless wind, which, meeting the current, raised the water into billows that seemed at every moment as if they would overtop her masts and bury her beneath them. For two or three days the vessels were tossed about in this manner, the wind abating at in tervals, but only to blow again with increased force, as if, as Dick expressed it—" There was a fresh hand at the bellows." During the most violent of these gusts the engines of the "Nemesis," which had been got to work again, broke down, and the ship was left at the mercy of a strong adverse current and a contrary wind. But the worst was yet to come. CHAPTER XIII. WRECKED OFF THE SEYCHELLES. The gale had again abated, and the " Nemesis was sailing on the starboard tack under double- reefed topsails, with the dhow in her wake, so much strained by labouring in the heavy sea and contrary winds of the last four or five dsys, that the negroes had to be kept constantly at work, in relays, at the pumps. The wind, which had veered several times from north-west to west, was now blowing strong breeze from the latter quarter, and the sky was still overcast with broken masses of cloud. "Where are we now, Mr. Arthur?" inquired Tom Lester, of one of the midshipmen, for it was well-known on board that the vessel had been driven considerably out of her course. "About three degrees south, and fifty-four east," was the reply. "I suppose you know we are out of our course?" "Too much to eastward, I think," returned Tom. "You are right," said the midshipman ; "but not so much that' we could not soon make up our leeway if we could get her engines into working order." . "It is coming on again, if I am not mis* taken," said Tum, as he observed the sea to. wards the north suddenly become white with foam. ■ "Furl topsails!" cried the first-lieutenant, at the same moment. The sheet of white foam that overspread the зса to windward advanced rapidly, and, as it reached the ship, the strong northern blast which had produced it drove her stern deep into the water, and caused the waves to lift up their white heads like a legion of ocean dragons menacing the vessel with their foaming jaws. "Treble-reef the fore and mainsails I" was the next command, bawled through the trumpet, and, as this was executed, the vessel rose more easily on the heavy sea on wkich she rode. But, as the darkness increased, so did the fury of the gale, until the sea all around was white with foam, and the masts creaked, and the wind howled over the waste of waters, and whistled through the rigging, in a most dismal and ill- boding manner. The furious northern blast, meeting the strong southern current, raised the waves to a height exceeding anything of which Tom had any pre- vious conception. The deck was flooded with the water that broke over the bows, and with the driving rain, that began to patter against the mizeu-sail about an hour before midnight, added to the dis- comfort of the men on deck, in spite of tar- paulins and sou'-westers. As the " Nemesis" rose on the monster billows* the dhow could be seen labouring on in her wake, at one time lifted up on the white crest of the wave which the steamer had last ridden over, and at another buried in the dark trough of the deeply furrowed sea. "We must be- getting near the Seychelles," observed young Arthur, the midshipman, to our hero, " but it is so infernally dark that nothing can be made out a cable's length ahead." "Is there anything to be feared, do you think ?" inquired Tom, anxiously. "Everything, on such a devil's night as this," was the reply, accompanied by an expressive shrug of the shoulders. "Breakers ahead!" shouted'a voice from the foretop. "Just so !" was the comment of the midship- man, as, knocking his oilskin hat more firmly upon his head, he sprang into the shrouds to look ahead. "Put the helm hard to starboard!" bawled the officer of the watch, in a voice that was heard abovo the roaring of the wind and the dashing; of the waves. "Furl the mizcn-sail—haul down the jibs!" A dozen hardy seamen were lying out on the mizen-yard the next moment, whilst, others ran aft to haul down the jibs. But the gale had now risen to a hurricane, and the treble reefs of the fore and main sails did' not prevent the stem of the driving vessel from being deeply depressed, whilst her bows were lifted up by the giant waves, raised by the meeting of the wind and the current; the latter, in that part of the ocean, running strongly at all times, owing to the large island of Madagascar dividing the enormous volume of water coming from the south, after sweeping round the Cape of Good Hope. To the dismay of all on board, the vessel did* not answer to her helm, but drove on through the dashing spray and blinding rain. Drove on to destruction I Captain Seymour had been called up, and stood on the quarter-deck, holding on his hat with-one hand* and clinging to a stay with the other. "Furl the fore and mizen sails !" he'shouted* "Send down the topgallant yards—make ready to cut away the mizen-mast! Stond by there h I think that is our only chance, Mr^Wilson ?/* he added, turning to the officer of the watch. "I am afraid so, Captain Seymour,*' rejoined' the licitfcnant. Both strained their eyes into the darkness whilst these evolutions were being performed; but nothing could be seen ahead save the wildly rolling waves, whose white heads seemed; to be« chasing each other like a succession of foaming cataracts. Every stitch of canvas being* furled and the tops lowered, the ship did not-drive on with so* much velocity as before; but the mountain billows, white-capped^ like Alps afloat, rose high around her, ami seemed to threaten every mo- mcm to close over and engulf her. As she was lifted' high upon the crest of a huge wave, a black unasa was seen for a BOYS OF К NY; LAND. i, HUJ? is hi:i НАМ) л ri:.< ь <'i S'\¡a,a, LiKi; л r¡:i%< ;.. ou ;;л.\,\-м THE KING OF THE SCHOOL;; oí;, W i'.O WILL WIN: "And v.-Ь« a y.!-; bav<- d-aa- Hb«- ndprit y:: ¡ ! ".a>>r^' ' ,^ 'S;;-, Г. \s L" Ь is faad'y н ши-í ^ * s'V' ">И 1 »к)ГЛ !'!-,. : aa b" '\Yhv. billiards < Г «*«н:г«' I la : do ymi ka< v4 ,аьу < 1 hnva saa <-t two ;;bl/'Mr. »Sharp walked down into the town,) « .Mid mí- ,.a,. r,r ,„v b<.vs г !a:M i^.bi;-'^ ^v. • ш v.üí, t,, i ;; ^ ** < У'^'^ »4 ïîrîïî.'ît, Ч!,.-11И'Г íi De Veré, and another Mtzroy. 'i лгу ail 1 WwaVí i-a A t;r san- ]u¡i¡ »" ?;ЫмМг«1 \o )>)•;«'', ;^ií: :. ,'b'"f,íí- í-'ív ^"i*15" 'li't Ьлк'"* , I - if У"** 'b-ífi í.ki- !«:,. fo }M. íj«.r.f Mr. Sharj-, Unn.^H'hy ii.:it i^U :\n<*l^<,( ууПипг Îh-M «.fl^k.d Mían». . \ и Ь t. v,,„ had bvît'T mnaiîî ft.i'LHMi; 1I<" i:a> 4 pas»h ib» h; r,;,y >íiady j.Imth—| Mb«'di*Uí.'«»f bul 'sí- plnv was sp-id 'íur tí*** day, «» t,.4;1"10^; , , , At . Г rnÎT" Г>« wonld nnt Hkf tn чгг. yoar f«"íi in Г* !Tbc <->\fr, 1 Cî*y !,'J ,J'-r» 1 )пе'ш îa:tl,5i'.tj "Т1ММЧ1 h ми--a b,:;a:d г,оШ, J da,,У Im. un—d ilt,!;|v , v.TV -froki-, and ff {:,leivd \;rjl-'' , , |WiU«-ii..'d ilw. }a*-,iSi> fiar ,'s b-ay íia^.^but îJH'V are! h¡m>di Ur« laaiddn-'-MM^k of tla« r«>«mi. cov. VvV'V0U W,U CílíIcaVUir *"° г'-^^ buîae dus- , Ь,«> knnwing íor ни-." 'Ait.-г tiaa]„-. ' \ hirw dowa bis (aa-, and WV»V * . „ S M D" any of ha* I^-xa *>м p' tli^rp Г !n-îsn-d in dlsir'bt to tía; rcmuk-M СоШсг U Oie U1 ^vnv. h:v; i «Л í'hw; bul. the gu-aicr munter oí Uiemhocd out in pursuit of the flying figure^ which they could see dimly some yards ahead. *< You to the right, Marsham, you to the left, Pembridge," said Fitzgerald, as th y raced across the playing-field. '* Spread out; if he-attempts to turn you can stop bin. lie in goirg straight for the river, and we must have baa." The pursued leaped the fence like л deer, but the pursuers were equal y a«ril«\ NV.i; her of the boys had any clothing on except shirt, trousers, and slippers, and all three were in splendid training. It seemed as though the robber had some idea of his enemies' tactics, for he made several attempts to get off towards the town as they passed through the cathedral grounds; but the •boys headed him back, and drove him on in the direction of the river. He dared not stop and encounter them, for he knew, from the pertinacity with which they followed, that they would stick to him like bull- dogs. Apparently resolved as to his course he kept straight on. The river came in sight. « We shall have him now," shouted Marsham. "Will you 1" muttered the robber, setting his teeth, and not relaxing his pace in the least. On arriving at the brink of the water he plunged in, and without the least hesitation began to swim across. The Earl of Pembridge, who was about a yard in front of the others, followed suit, and Marsham and Fitzgerald did the same. Four dark forms might have been seen crossing the water. In spite of the chilliness of the water and the swiftness of the current the man succeeded in getting across. He stood a moment on the other bank, shook himself, and then looked for his pursuers. Great was his astonishment when he saw the three boys in the water, swimming bravely, and rapidly nearing him. "Curse the young whelps, they mean to hunt me down," he muttered. Turning with a shiver he made off at a long, swinging trot for the wood on the hill beyond the chalk pit. "Tally-ho-ho-ho!" shouted Marsham, as he landed. The hunting cry was caught up by the others, and taken up by some of the boys who had fol- lowed, but preferred remaining on their own side of the river. "Put the steam on or we shall lose him !" said Marsham. *' The villain means to make for the trees." The three boys put on their best speed, but the robber had gained on them during the • swim. '* You may as well surrender, scoundrel; I know you," the young earl shouted. The only answer from the man was a low, mocking laugh. "He is but twenty yards ahead ; we must have him," exclaimed Charlie Fitzgerald. "If he does not stop I shall shoot." The robber, who was close to the edge of the wood, overheard the words, and shouted back— "You can't, yourpowder is damp." a We'll see all about that," responded Charlie, \ who, of course, had no pistol or powder about him. He stooped down as he ran along, and caught up from the ground a flint stone something larger ¿han his fist. , Taking as good aim as possible under the cir- cumstances, he hurled it with all his force'at the flying robber. ; A dull thud, followed by a low muttered cry of pain, told that the missile had found its mark,, but the man still continued his flight. He leaped'the fence surrounding the wood, and waë heard for a few minutes crashing through the bushes. Then, as the three breathless boys puilcd up at the hedge, which they were too exhausted to jump, dead silence reigned around. ft Got away !" Marsham exclaimed in sorrow- ful tones. "It would be useless to attempt to follow Ыщ' in that copse," remarked Fitzgerald, whose words, were echoed by Pembridire They waited a few minutes listening atten- tively for any sound thai mi rht betray tile path 'taken by the fugitive; but the wool *>cemed noiseless: "Let us get back, I am beginning to feel cold," said Fitzgerald. aunen l. 235 BOYS' OF ENGLAND. "Right; but we'll kick a ff*w holes in the ground to mark vhc spot where we lost our game. Marsh am immediately produced a pocket foiife, and kneeling down, cut three square pieces out of the turf, thus making a mark that could not be mistaken. That done they turned back towards school. 44Double!" exclaimed the earl, "it will never do to get cold in these wet things.'* "Shall we go straight?" asked Marsham. "Of course," replied Fitzgerald and the earl in a breath. They ran down the hill at a pretty good pace, once more reached the river bank, jumped in and swam back, amid the loud cheers of half-a- dozen youngsters who had just brought an old punt and were about to go over. "How is EgertOH ?" was the first question the three young heroes asked. Of course the other boys had been waiting on the bank, and could not answer the question. However, they all hurried back to the college, and learnt the news. OSgerton bad received a pistol shot wound of a *erv dangerous character. :lhc sliot HáÜ''grazed the head with sufficient force to fracture îthe skull, and the patient was consequently in great danger. Doctor Whackley, who had received a blow from a life preserver, had recovered sufficiently to be able totnake a statement to the police. He was sitting dn his study, he said, when he became aware, from a stream of cold air on his back, that the window had been opened. Turning rounds for the purpose of closing it, he was rather startled to see a tall man, whose face was hidden, standing behind him. On demanding what he wanted, and calling for help, the robber struck him a heavy blow with a life preserver, after which the doctor could remember nothing till he returned to con- sciousness in hijS own bed-room. The dripping appearance of the three lads who had chased the robbers attracted immediate attention.; "Go to your rooms, my dear boys, change everything, and jump into bed," said Mrs. Whackley- ''Twill send up some hot brandy and water in a few minutes." •-Can't I see Egerton?" asked Fitzgerald. "No. Qo> to bed, or you will catch cold." i( I don't mind about that, only I wish we had caught the thief." "Ah, well, never mind," and the kind-hearted lady bustled them out of the room. The brandy and water was sent as. promised; the three lads thoroughly dried themselves and jumped into bed. With the exception that Fitzgerald hnd a s%htcold the nest day, neither of them was the worse for the night's adventure. All night long the doctor and an experienced nutse remained in attendance on Egerton. A^ telegram was sent to London requesting the most celebrated ^surgeon of the day to hasten - down in the morning. He came, and, after a brief examination of the wotind, $aid— v.« а; у ,- te had n f ut hmd vï a v.La'h înad" 11».'* м •?';»> -'nil- , ,{ КИу M чМ' t-'Wia*' thai -,;«", r¡'.' '.vi-li !<, í'íí-ip !í •'!»' п.- ;»í hmmasr tlaVr- in, *;.,.<) wba h.-r íb»'v"p; nui'í auough roar with l;u:^iîi.«r, wk-' ч* ruirv-;т.мп. 'History -ла" writ* «м. oy tin t(Mrv for }:;j;r ,,,fain f;r JU,t-„ 'ni «jvt on iîsv >Гг.-. Codv c;uriv ont :tt Ш* mom.-nt Willi a p 'Vм ;;,Л!'"'('Г' Г^я'пиПп W :n""<:- ^«^'" !•'•.« v, .чь4 h-Ih-v, L.mr tí*-i. ш,Л ^ ' /Ь-'s ¿.injfi.i a !va/b, ni .«:,м% ui¡v¡, ha Г ha,há Y(,,.' 'what ï.h«»y'r» :ш> ni, J aa» Ь< ав, ^;îv hei'a <,n tü*.i ¡ f«Hrmvha,.r with. ît 1 h^I 'hat ti will \»? < you cun reoonii>»itr' partiv* • dl ;ч!нч« h< t-a.'tl i' -i to ш< ve. Лак '"и ata s V i-'-j't' lia- ь!и ;ka< с rai» you ?. it Ь th" a d-oh • y¡a'^ woí.'j Ь<- triv'ií up wbbaib n.'* ¡ '* That's a !' nt, mother, a: <: I'll uMv it along a "Wbv^aid! T ^; -Лщ: Г -иЪЛ hYhld BLil úra-U to y m tór thinking of it, Kitty, put m.« '"¡•\i-Vh;-, kkh I'd -а, ч m ; Л: aí.yv J,.;jn* o,(hr,a î»i v'M in my Paddlm^ay víhía Г Ь-о ..ti i 1 look < -if fer in*- ptï-'. O;:,' i. a- f. « mü ;» >ц ií¡4 'ana-*» î ttmsîy, VjK'Hrilly whí'i» ïu- iias ^4: ¿nái ли ia^xt \ ITù said mo more, but spmag on Ms pony and v Ф' !I'.'-ro а; а: у" ?'/лч|#-г Fito- na'li-:' 1 i-га '"Г 'bat ;< •! у -, .r aa y i 4 ia * ta ¡ '< >.r t.e ■ " ',!"¡ - u p.jV:r Ím -! 'i ¡' Г.'''а«'Г, val.l as f I vnrd 'vv,i taikia' . It а*, ш. «io^r. or ^ituia'.uut, thut avs-r ya4pcil. i/;.ak ", ÍhT sai»! Mr.-, <''-»<1у, wítli lov« ia every tone, as h V vT;«'n 3 w;tK nu a' at Ь «,•: «i;n'jr th'a-- »>:.♦• < yi- / and ♦ *- 1,*Иа,т yîa-inl'¡"v, •]}>:"* f coa, "lioagh be шву be ,'' -f ''•!. ,a'i u.'":!' hi.t— ha' •< h<.'.v h¡ . . c^*:."/it. П" ha-.ал' I ha "| h'-r , ! i.; ;м : - hr . • hi la aih y-aa<- Hi! h"-■ "■very laih.ta *,n {{«*• ' Uilkiaa: H-» . Dffl is jasfc as good as »;ь a: It. WVjl ti;».'i Tha h«*>t nitl:>-r 1агг-'^Ьн1 pony of full In'•/ }*v ■ г < . а.ипЬт. I'm ^lad von urn ' bhek' nmv :má ta-'), walkv! up ta íhe'pareh u¡;h hi ah kinds ai weaUna:,"^a;hWÜdBül. ^Tberekl • '- iha vv 'h Г fa.hdla hrà aî'ah!a rv+îM Uva í:« »e <-л the .haouîtha' 0f hi.-, yoioai ; и hit af whit" in îsïh Hver, ma blaak in h\- h* ,ah h. tî ahh V ha Wild Ulli alai ' ш;аФ }% * '"Wa.vt h»i xi) < ana h>. i a /иг a îî^iil he «ici R'¡; th.; j:,(i)d Î J' h;r- j /,!.o yhiy a br*t \»- aahi-ач h?aa ,..how ahor. throia/h. Bill is аЬаИ of wii«'¡ ÍWvü: V t" oîh-, .'itî.i Iha h>: t-i'.a a '"'■» !'Ap'hj", • '" la: would ri'.iî!;. hkr ta liau- try \y d!.-i»:yV' h.. ^ f^ on a rorrtfT oi rhr T5<«ï'cha ат.ч*. i gkniiiiy. htad> ira: \uih 1 и a t:;.. ¡ trra'íi-^ ;«aa; it- и iah»'.- < tí f^ria aa-- íia axiihl-ha-l by ia'ÎJio, far ay«-n ,] KVIÜ.-H to lata»- |i*-an ah hí^ r«'-1*;^! W* íatt iii.-h'1 j ¿¡ >>i л*, tlr.'u J)av<« ;thí. a, ím i h'tas. ra1. ■ i a tha hi'.h; »т oar on r. h o i 1 yonh':> ал laîi faa .;a--; a .ayi^i lv:*ai,4Í :»V ah lar vjth '"П1:а haï! h i*,--. i- ■ a<; a" h a Ua fo'lif,, !' 1, î},.. i • ,,Г th< î'i.'î'a :a¡a a- ; , ím,.." , (' ¿a.! íua., vaa, )í ^ктг? h-.-.V. í'.tii.ii,' hal ;a,'.í; I till we are aU 'l:aî. hh! яга! hr-? n-aa.h '' h;ai i t\- t !.;•' a. i u;a, 'oa: ГО!:Т)ГЛУТ "Г i;ï.T!a>tn I'hl.L, a V, ■'Mb- af^a-;,, •hah !«,a a, . ;а;-1 a-v» r tl.^ /, '.a a¡: ,а><у ah' ia" <. ; c<* , ba ÍÍ, 'a j ii< "лак a,ina¿ ía-.jaiii.a(h :u,. ; î^aaaah ;h«- h-'ol 'a! a; U h.a. a jaua:" a- man ttiat Tttti í¿ ¿aíd JLuiiic. as the two rod- hh 4* Ihoaila-.m. a. ha-- ami haa , 'h» 'b< 1 ola /V,- ?aa!y >'■•""' • '■ ■ . a,1. la.-iha- *•;»!. j'-ad aaah" , a iahha;. "hh, h-„ Д , г ,,. ;U.,í », • ; siiniiks tr^m iaa , «, if 1 , '1 ^«.,. ;: fHa ,, a can rnn ran homrs *»f н mau beton', inc. i caia^i whv, bin.: ■ ,a na,s ,.m «a'^'h.*- hia.^aaa 1 h-'iha hoa i! '*Та.' mmv 'i;'.'. ,", a „ a :., '238 СМавсп l# 187a. BOYS OF ENGLAND. more dangérons than fifty outside. But see—they bave dismounted and left their horses. They will -creep up within shot of the antelope." "No, mother—Wild ВШ is too good a hunter for that !" said Lillie. "Now both the men sink out of sight in the grass—hut see, there is a red handker- chief gently waving in the ah*. Bill has taken it from his neck and tied it to his ram-rod. Notice how the antelopes watch it. They begin to come closer and closer. Caution is strong, but curiosity is stronger. They will come until in easy Tange, and then two joS them will surely fall. Brother has •often told me about this way of hunting.^ See- nearer and nearer the poor things keep coming, and will come till the fatal bullet ends life and curiosity at once. In silence the family now watched the little herd of animals. Thea two puffs , of smoke wero seen, and long before the reports of the Tifies reached the ears of the watchers, two antelopes were seen to leap high in the air and fall to the earth in the death-struggle, while the rest sped away swiftly over the prairie. The two hunters now mounted their horses, which had dropped from sight as well as themselves, and riding up to their game prepared it for bringing in. This, as they were in no haste, took them several minutes, and when they were on their way back to the house, a third rider was in sight beyond them. CHAPTER VI. The two hunters came on, leisurely, each with the slain antelope before him on his horse, but the third horseman—first visible in the distance when they started for the cottage—came so fast, that, before they reached the house, the females had recognised the son and brother. "Hurry, and have the men put the teams to our waggons, and helpme pack clothing and provisions I" -cried Mrs. Cody to her daughters and to Kitty. "My son is riding at full speed, and he would not do so without good cause." AU was bustle, therefore, about the house when Wild Bill and Dave Tutt returned with Лей- дате. But the preparations were made without excite- ment, and carefully, so that when Buffalo Bill came in and sprang from his horse, if he had said the word, the family could have moved on in a very few •minutes. "I'm glad to see you getting ready to start, mother !" said he, as he met her at the door. "Me and the insect have travelled fast for a couple of hours, not that we had good news to bring, but for fear bad news might get,here before we were ready for it. Your spy-glass did me good service this day, you can bet your bottom dollar on that. I saw Jake M'Kandlas more than three miles off, as plain as if he was right afore me. He has got a reinforce- ment of eleven hang-dog wretches, white men like himself, and I've no doubt intends to try us again to-night. If we stay here, we can hold the house, maybe, but he'll get all our stock, and then we can't move. I reckon the sooner wo are away the safer our hair will be. For myself or the boys I've no fear. But for you, mother, and the gals, there's more to consider. You'd better all be dead than to be in his power." "Oh, yes—indeed, yes!" murmured the mother. "We are nearly ready, my son. Bedding and clothes and the money, and what provisions we can carry, are already in the waggons. I was afraid to put the powder in till you came—it is in the cellar." "How much, mother?" "Four twenty-five pound kegs, my son, that have never been opened." "Good. Two of those kegs we will take with us. The other two will do for a present to Jake • M'Kandlaa and hia friends." "A present! my son? Are you crazy?" "Not quite, mother. But I. have an idea that they will be so mad' when they get here and find we've left our castle, that they'll set fire to it, and dance around it while it burns. At least that is one of their ways. Now if they do, and this powder is hid where the fire will find it before they do, it will make some of 'em dance the hornpipe on the downward road." "Well, my son, do as you think best. The men are driving in the stock. The teams are ready, and со are we." "Have you packed all you can carry that you need, mother? They may leave things alone, but it isn't likely." "Yes, my son. all but the powder." "I'll see to that, mother." It took but a short time to make final prepara- tions, and, m a half-hour after Bill's arrival, the cottage home was deserted, and the cavalcade of horsemen, waggons, and stock was moving east- ward over the prairie. It was late in the day when they got away, and they could not make very rapid progress through the tall grass; therefore, when night came on they were just passing a low range of sandy hills not more than ten or twelve miles from the farm. They were slow in getting over these, but, after a couple of tedious hours, reached the summit. Buffalo Bill, just as they were starting down the opposite decline, looked back, and instantly saw a bright light, which indicated but too plainly the fate of their recent home. "One more debt for Jake M'Kandlas to pay before I am done with him," he muttered, in a low tone, for he did not wish to have his mother know that the work of destruction was going on. But her eyes had noted the direction of his glance, and she looked'back just as a vivid flash lighted up the whole country in the rear. u The powder has exploded !" she exclaimed. "Yes,* said Bill, after listening till a heavy re- port came booming through the air. "I reckon if they were anywhere near the house they'd get more powder than they wanted all at once. But we must move on lively. We haven't got any too much start, and we're a good ways from help yet. Drive up rapid, boy—drive up rapid. The Reds can follow a trail as broad as ours by such a moon almost as well as by day." "We shall not have a moon to see by long. Look yonder; there's the wildest kind of a storm brew- ing !" said Wild. Bill, pointing to a range of black clouds swiftly rising in the north-west. "Yes, yes, and I'm glad it is coming," said Buffalo Bill. "It will be nasty for us outsiders, but the women will be all right under the waggon covers, and the rain will wash our trail so the Reds can't follow. Old Jake is as good as a hound, but he can't smell a trail in the track of a Kansas thunder shower, or see it either. Let the wind and the rain come, and the sooner the better. We'll keep going while we can, and then park the waggons I and coral the loose stock inside." "That's the idea, mate, that's the idea for a match game!" cried Wild Bill, putting a waterproof blanket over his shoulders, more to shield his arms than his person, I The wind now came sharp and spitefully in blasts over the hills and plains, and as the clouds rushed up from the far-away horizon^ they rapidly over- spread the sky until at last the moon and stars were so nearly obscured that the travellers could see but little around them. The three border men agreed taxemain mounted and to ride slowly around outside the waggons in turn so as to keep a continual guard against any hostile approach. The females in the covered waggon convened cheerfully with their protectors, for the storm, instead of being a terror, was looked upon as a Pro- vidential thing, calculated to favour them. Louder and more fiercely blew the wind—none but those who have been on the prairie or on the ocean j know how it can blow. ¡ The darkness was intense. At last the rain came pouring down in torrents, and every now and then a vivid flash of lightning lit up for a brief second the entire group of waggons, men, horses and cattle. Then would follow deafening peals of thunder. Crashing thunder, hissing lightning, and pouring rain seemed to have deadened the wind for a time, but it was only a lull, for once in a while its shrill diapason rung wildly in the watchers' ears. But suddenly a fearful scream rose from the lips of one of the girls in the waggon—one wild cry for help, that fairly rent the air, as well as the hearts and ears of those who heard it. Buffo Bill was on the circuit, Wild Bill was on his return, and both by the same lightning flash got a bare glimpse of a girl struggling in the arms of a man on horseback, and then all was darkness. * Both dashed towards the spot where they had seen the man, another flash lit up their own forms and faces, but nothing else could they see. "Lillie! Oh, Heaven, where is our Lillie?" screamed Mrs. Cody. "Lillie, swate Miss Lillie, is gone I" cried poor Kitty Muldoon, at the top of her voice. "Dave Tutt, where is he ?" shrieked Lottie. "He was here and asked how we were, not a minute ago, and Lillie answered him." "Dave Tutt!" shouted Buffalo ВШ. "Dave Tutt, where are you?" No answer came. "The curse has carried Miss Lillie off!" cried Wild Bill. "It was him we saw with her in his arms." "Oh, my child! my child !" moaned the unhappy mother. "You had, indeed, reason to hate and fear that man." "Do not try to move the waggons while we are gone," said Bufblo Bill, in a hoarse tone, to his mother. "Wild Bill and me must go , after Lillie, We will keep between you and harm if we can. I never should have tru-ted that man. I knew he was a gambler, and out here they're always close kin to a robber Lillie, Lillie darling, we'll save you yet. Come, Bill, keep in hearing of me—come" And the speaker dashed off over the hills. CHAPTER VII. Out into the utter darkness. On, until the crest of the hill was gained, and then faintly, for it was far off, could be seen the light of the yet burning cottage. '* Come on!" shouted Bill: h*s horse is as fast if not faster than ours, and he will go to them, I know. Come on. mate, and ride as you never rode before." J Wild Bill made no reply, but each lightning flash showed one to the other, close and near. Soon the rain ceased, and the thunder was heard no more. The light of the fire became plainer as they neared the old farm. On, on, until they wore so near that they could see men grouped close to timbers and rails that had been heaped on the fire for fuel. "Let us creep up and see who and what is there," said Wild ВШ, as he rode up alongside of his mate. "Nol—nor" thundered the other, completely maddened by his feelings. "The murderer of my father is there! My poor sister, too! Ride on, as I do, and let your revolver do your talking I" Wild Bill saw that argument would be lost and used no more. Setting his teeth, his revolver in hand, and his eyes fixed on the group, not now a hundred yards off, Le urged Black Nell up to the side of Powder Face, and both horsemen at the same instant dashed into the circle of light. Jake M'Kandlas sprang to his feet as a hoarse voice shouted his name, and fell the next instant with a bullet through his bôdy, while dashing on and over them, firing as they came, the two riders swept, shooting down Indians and white men side by side as they passed on. In an an instant, wheeling, with fearful yells, back they came, but found few either of the white or red men waiting for the onslaught, for all but three or four had already fled away into the pro- tecting darkness. These fired only two or three random shots before the surer aim of the bordermen sent them to death, and then there were none to resist. "Oh heaven! where is Lillie—where is Lillie?" shouted Bill. "She is not here. Back to the prairie, mate, back to the prairie; the moon is ! coming out, and we'll find her yet. Follow me- sne is not nere—waste no time on the dead, but follow me." Away again, swift as the driving clouds, the brother and his wild prairie horse sped, and Wild Bill kept faithfully on the track. Away over the plains, now in shadow then in light, as the moon looked down through breaking clouds—away once more toward the waggons where the other dear ones had been left. "Have you found Lillie?" wasthe cry of the mother, as her son rode up to her side. "Not yet, but I have slain the murderer of my father!" he cried, sternly. "His dead body lies roasting by the embers of our ruined home. Go on due east when day dawns—Bill and me will be scouting the prairie for the trail of Dave TutL We will not rest till our Lillie is found, and his body left to sicken wolves!" And again he and Wild Bill rode off. CHAPTER VIII. Bût a few moments after the two bordermen rode away from the ruins of the cottage, where their reckless charge had produced a panic as well as a fearful carnage, another horseman rode within the circle of light. It was Dave Tutt, and on his saddle before him, limp and lifeless in appearance, he held poor Lillie. Leaping from his horse, he lifted her down, and, drawing near the fire, looked in her face anxiously, as if he really feared she was dead. A tremor in her pale lips, a long, faint sigh, told him that this was not the case. "The swoon was so like death!" he muttered. "She would soon come to if I had any restoratives. Hallo! where are you all? Some dead, and the rest all run away from only two men. If I hadn't had the gal to bother with, I'd have fought 'em alone. They went by within twenty feet of me in the dark. Hallo! here. Jake M'Kandlas or Frank Stark, where are you?" "Who calls Jake M'Kandlas? Here's what's МДПСП 1, 7870.] 239 BOYS OF ENGLAND. bit of Mm, and that's pretty much топ out, I reckon 1" eaid the ruffian himself as ;he tried to rise from among tin ее or four bodies that lay stretched on the gTound; hut, failing, sunk hack With a groan. "It is me, Dave Tutt, colonel—are you bad hurt?'* "Yes J IVe pot а heavy dose, Dave, hut -draw me away from the fire. I don't ivant to roaet till my time comes, and then I'll have no choice in the' matter." Dave laid his helpless burden doVn with her head on a saddle, and hurried to place the wounded toan in a more comfortable position. As this was done, the eye of M'Kandlas fell on Lillie. "Who have you got there, Dave?" he asked, hastily. "Isn't it one of the twins?" "Yes, it is Lillie; and her destiny is to be a. robber's bride. She turned the cold shoulder on me, or I'd have been lees rough in my courting ; but the storm came up, and I lifted her, and here she is." "Then it was her them two, Wild Bill and her' brother, were after when they charged in on us here." *' Of course it was, and, as they found she wasn't here, they didn't wait to be particular and lift hair, but put out to scour the prairie after me. They assed me twice withhbhalf pistol shot, and if she adn'trbeen still in her faint, I would have had to have stilled her. But where's all your men? There's not over half a dozen, red and white, stretched here." "Novthere's more, but they've scattered. 'Blow this whistle, Dave, J*m too weak." Tutt took^ a large whistle from the neck of the wounded man, and blew a long, shrill call. •It was answered , a second later by another, whistle. "That is Frank Stark,'* said the robber chief. "He will be here boob, and he carries what I need now, 'for I'm as weak аз a sick chicken. There's a bad hole in my carcass. I've stuffed a bit of my hunting- ishirt in to stop the bleeding, but I'm afeard, from the feeling, that it bleeds inside." "We'll вооп see. Here come the boys." "Hi, here's Dave Tutt and a gal, too, by the Big Elk. Snakes and reptiles, what a beauty 1" cried Frank Stark, as he strode in from the darkness, followed by a" half dozen more white men and a few Indians. "Never you mind the gal—tote out your whisky flask and 'tend to the colonel, for he is pretty nigh gone under. She is my property, and I reckon I can take care of her without help," said Dave Tutt, moving to the side of poorXillie, who began to show signs ¡ of -reyiving consciousness. "I reckon it won't spile her to be looked at," said Frank, snappishly,,as he went to the assistance of M'Kandlas. "Are you hurt, bad, colonel?" "Give me a pull at that flask of yours, and I'll eoon know 1" said the chief. A draught of liquor stimulated the wounded man ■so that he rose to a sitting position. "Frank," said he to Stark, "count noses and see Jbow many of us is left! Them two Bills are the d— 1 on quick work!" Stark looked around, questioned the living, and .-вооп found that four white men and five Indians, among the latter Big Maple the chief, had been killed, and two «more besides the colonel wounded. "Bad, by thunder, bad ; and only them two to do -it all V1 muttered the colonel. "But we'll pay him for it. One of the gals is here and that's worse than ■death to him.. And I'll have the other yet. I'll wring :the core of his heart out in that way. How is it^ over there, Dave, is your prairie rose coming "Yes—her eyes are open—but she does not speak i /aid Dave, who gazed almost in alarm on -the wild, stony look of horror with which poor Lillie gazed on him and the scene before her. "Give her a drop of Bourbon—that will start her tongue 1" said Frank Stark, tossing over his liquor "Try a little—it will take the damp chill off," said Dave, as he uncorked the flask and offered it to the girl who now sat upright. "Wretch! Take me back to my mother 1" she ßaid, in a low, angry tone, as she pushed the flask away. "Not yet—not before our honeymoon is over, my pretty wife that is to be !" said Dave, trying to smile m the face of her look of scorn and hate. "Your wife? Fiend ! I will die a thousand deaths first. I hated you from the first moment I saw you! And now, coward, dog, I loathe and despise you!" "Go on, go on, my beauty. Spit your spite while you're before folks, and you'll be more tender when we are alone. That's the way with women I've heard. But you'd better take a drink from this flask to keep your courage up," "You'll nefd it, Dave Tutt, more than I. My brother * ill soon find me. and then your life will pay for this crml, unmanly act!" "Your bmth* r has been here, gal; there's some of his nt&'kd left" layin' around, and if these red Indians find out you are kin to him that killed their chief, it may be more than I can do to keep them from roasting you 1" "I do not care. I had rather die at their hands than to live in yours. You say my brother has' been here?" "Its ; he and Wild Bill rode in here in the search for you, and laid out nine of the party. They couldn't find you, во they took the back track. I had you enug in my arms, and they passed close by without knowing it. So, my beauty, you are allf safe for a home in the Black Hills with one that : will treat you well if you behave yourself. If you don't" "Will you only kill me?' "Kill you, pal—kill you, with such a face and form! I reckon not. No; you'd be worth too much in an Indian trade to make the killing profit- able. I could get fifty head of horses for such a gal as you any day among the Sioux." Poor Lillie shuddered, and looked around upon the rough faces of the men. The storm was over, and a consultation was held as to the next movements of the party. Lillie was placed in a light waggon which had been saved from the flames, and the wounded colonel and his two injured men were also laid on a heap of ßtraw in the «ame vehicle. With their usual disregard for the decencies of humanity, the robbers and Indians left then* dead to the tender mercies of the -wolf and buzzard, without a thought of burial, careful, however, to bring away their arms and ammunition, for these were valuable. Dead mer* were worthless. Before sunrise they were miles away, Dave Tutt now taking the leadership of the party. CHAPTER IX. To and fro, making wide circles over the prairie and hills, rode Buffalo Bill and his friend until the day dawned, and yet they found no sign of the lost one. .Rapidly on, one circling here and the other there, meeting only to communicate, they rode all the morning, but found not a single track. "What can we do? She is somewhere, and in the power of that fiend, Dave Tutt I" said Buffalo Bill. "He did not make back to the M'Kan d las party, for he would have been there ahead of us. Where can he have gone?" "He has most likely made for the Black Hills. I've heard him brag how he knew every canyon and rock in îem, and tell how friendly him and the Ogallalla Sioux were who live in that section/' said- Wild Bill. "Then we will follow him there. If a hundred tribes, instead of one, were at his back, I'd have her from him and my knife in his heart I It maddens me to think she is in his power. If he wrongs her by an insulting word, much less a rude touch, I'll kill him by inches. Bill, let's bear for the Black . Hüls." I "Hold on a bit," said the other.^ "I'm just as hot for her rescue as you can be, Bill. But there's. reason in the worst of cases, as well as the best. We are but two, and though we could ride over and through twenty, red or white, in the dark, we two couldn't get to the Black Hills and back, no way, let alone bringing her off. We must have help. And there's your other sister, your good mother, and Kitty Muldoon. Would you leave them till they're safe?" "No; it isn't right.' But my poor Lillie! It drives me wild to think how she may suffer. But what do you propose, Bill?" "That we hurry the train into the nearest settle- ment where we can leave the family safe. Then gather as many men as we can and start for the Black Hills. Й we mqve fast he'll not have over a couple or three days start, and we/ll be sure to find his trail. His horse has a good mark—shoes forward and none behind. That I noticed when he first jined us, and I kept still about it, for I never did trust him fully. And now I feel just life-sure that I'm the man picked out to put him under. And when I feel that way about a man, he's dead sure to come to me when I want him. I felt so about that Dick Hawley, and you remember that he rode up and picked a quarrel with me when I no more expected it than I did to go up in a balloon. He came after his gruel, and he got it. How, what do you say, Bill? Shall we make for the waggons?" "Yes; your plan is the best." said Buffalo Bill. "Though, were I on his trail, nothing on earth | should take me off from it till my hands were on his throat. I'll try to wait, Bill, I'll try to wait." The two friends now rode eastward rapidly, and before the sun reached its meridian were once more with the waggon's. "Have you given up the search for your sister ?** asked Mrs. Cod}', whenehe saw her son and his mate ride up. "No, mother, no, nor will we until she is found. But we can strike no trail—the rain has washed it way ; but dead or alive we'll find her." "Better dead than alive if she is his* victim, or in the hands of the heartless Indians I" said the mother, bitterly. "But why wait for us—we go too slow? Rjde on and raise men—ride on and do not mind us." "Mother—your life, that of Lottie and poor Kitty too, must be thought of. We do not know who is moving about the border." In a short time the mother, Lottie and Kitty Mul- doon, were mounted on good horses, and soon the waggons were left far behind. For like nearly all of the hardy, noble women of the west, they were not only used to the saddle, but to swift and fearless riding. Before the setting sun .had sunk behind the western horizon a settlement was reached, and soon on fresh horses, to let their own rest, Buffalo Bill and his mate were riding from house to house gathering men for the expedition to rescue "Lillie. (To be continued. Commenced in No. 171). NOTICE! In consequence of pressure of matter we are com- pelled to postpone our Answers to Correspondents, ANOTHER GIFT To Every Subscriber to the "YOUNG MEN OF 'GREAT BRITAIN." With No. 112 of the Young Men op.Great Britain will be GI-VEN AWAY No.l of a líew Romance, of Start- ling and Thrilling Interest, entitled, THE RIVAL APPRENTICES: A TALE OP THE RIOTS OP 1780. This work will be from the pen of the Favourite 'Author of "The Young Appreutice," "Rupert Dreadnought/* ** Young IronrHeart, " &&, :\ i, К '.V > W going to stril b,¡d aaa, fad. >т<< ♦* aad? vo-íí' for a í • И Ь1 Walk' lb< í ?;. г ¿ *: t'a-- fa ¡a-"'; b abb .H ) ib'- îada r «ííd ?" N7>Hba:aaaa, i di"; o, • :¡f\ Ha-y vr: -du«! • -;»< а • da* r a аааау та"<г Ha iVii aba,-- far íb- ,bayb>' Haa-ai iba', fdaa-a ! 1b, пи aa? у aya! a b.yya, « bd Y-aaaad -rr:V!:i tpr bayyaaad у» »».* yadfHy aab aa<»; bat, In: hadad, j a<«aa*'d t-, fai y-a нпу uwnt ;t¡* '••',:* ít' ba aay l- b; f;í-.'f,!r(í f,»r b< f«TM b<- 1 <■ <,7 ">••<{ •" a.d ntaavyaaa > i\¡,- t dy. í'- ГП<"]<1!" Г<*а,Г' <Í oí'í i!; a ?aaa adaai, îJ'JY't' ï M »t » ;*з j '{' |¿, • *í ¡ ; : V - T 'Vi tljí* îbf Ï ! 1» - t •„:«'<:•.■'<*' O i" í * *' a -Hal lawar Uain a lada 'í Ь г: Ь и-а ,ay Ы<< rbd • a,;.ab a, t', ta a, -íav. с-! 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U í/í-i/ * !Ч„ h» an! ;~;:y Ht-Л | ^ ' * • * i. - м î b" <>í h- !" }" *"!' t)- i*!;/ d -;!;, к t í j -4* ) !Ч í í !") . . pr:i'/, (!•, / -:ï. l'Ui< ;!»;')', u ;{ >; Ь i b;/;jí - í >" • ( í; И' ;i>'T-' 'Л'^Р 01' N i-! í" * !r ,i;..,¡ .¡j., í( .-'.¡l'-ivb.^í. !" M-'-yb'' í '''i'1'.!' »лч* *!'',;' ,.;/•, tb" «bbfT: " '/!.* « n4 ,, bulf «|«'u,í;;: \>,r :\)>vn \\*> UV, "in Ыв "Г;; í'H ;í ú, ñ'<-r>-],; í i,< ,¡¡ í's", ,r, L.'i.y j;;y ■ •-*,;: H.í.í'H' ?;,(', ;,;;lfi ь,у с'-',(Г а- а Ьи\ '•• ! , ■ >(,tV"í,'$ íbíL'k :t «Ь'мр H'V -iv.'s'!/' » -.("cyt Í' '»;* 1 * " "• ' M ¡c'.'í;,'iy, ;(."t{ !: :< r < ,v с >mj fbere ~\\: <;'i d< «» -J^^, w \ t'H kr."\v !'"* r^raoii- *-! í';iM <í I lie (.t,. ^ î :|.;r,k *!, „"•.)«/./■/' ti., 1' МЧГ > ,J Л1Г IviifHTt, U'bílt'-Ч ;¡;i»ní, 1 Uoll'r i;:Li:nti t« i KtiUHl îl, ív* î'!-, Huí;íí, V'/i'V" Uly У '41*',". '-ui, |! - í *: Я í «,' - ;4>l>ib-r Ш, íuiH'.;'^ f yi ( ¡|. У \ • jí,UÍ *.<;', hv }¡ íí, i:Tv"y kiinl *-f y»'":, "b:i!\;í гг'/пти"! íí:t< b¡t»l< - i>i:: I <í^:i ; :>,.':!.i i < г и,'/-'1 V< H /77 ' t if í ';::<) л* \'у юле ,f ff *! , - i-'ifV {п v,nr '-i» - КчН'^ ï 'îMîM ''Ht."í¡ |*< Mili Г,0 fU.1I ,bí''( Si) !¡n-rr r]-> Г,.Л-«1, Mifi- Hob!»: IÍOOíI» I:¡ ftlturo iir.' îxjm».' I'll !i;ftk«*7' wWb:iUaîa I îi»b" .biib-a by*'", * rvbo.íy V" -bib-k«««! Hit' \.пп»п. "ill ÍO mu kr.I.vv '.v!7. I ;îin i yi|i»,? -nmetliiníTÍ fit ivm»f>jody! Mr-wjaiits î fbí-'Vi-ч ! ta''.;*;!! 1 ■: •' "j r ■ î i"¡y c:\l Í7 >, i Asa!. ;î( 17 s-;y;> , !ü' î! и ;J¡', ;¡:.í'oi7-' o7 rk, a lítiXe íai mou* vp/Ji -'c:aclf¿. rUI.u- L:u l*. Oic f'.'íí) , bü* ;7 w. ;H777 ,"a7a\a :7 í :^c7' '7;!Ч.гу7 ! Ьи'а *!',:'sl;"- a.' 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Iba ji<«y7iî-)a:' u'\Va 17, iha- *я >л аг.,:Ну а;аа ni Н,а: !" f"/;-'ь ai, |/ч%;а I if't^.M7-r, Aw l-r Î77>aa H.-a-!, !Ím дл-Ьа,- s ■ а,а-аа7 * í :ai ai]í,!;i':',, <•!»)>' iai a»».- o;aHs hía;. aa7 -<7a a-r' f> Л:;а' ?;а 7:aoíí ;а,и, -i í^n-üa 77 a,' \\ aa ■ '! 17»,- r tí;..: 7;1* w.'.". í."-íh.- :u .7a,-, a aad Ы ay V/í,.f ц,< , « i ■( а лаа ¡ ¡a - , I al, ;a h- .! <'• '7 ' -aaa; ta,' fiad yaf mi Lüt-ir «a--a aas, í.«i-<, i.,'' 7, Г „ , a7 - '-i L' иаа;, "4 ,? ; .,¡}„ y ;, , ,¡ aa'ay- d7"kai!lv, 'Ч7, í'a y ida !j,ia»aíaaa *,d;"'" v*:t,. !a*a,vy aaiaaa^d, a* araaaá» a, ayaía, t,< • yaaaHia b" <aii b- iba: bdl brH." ha say.-a u Uabía ;ada! y-ai w.7' l' 'Í7-a аааааПааЛ.Ь^аа! Wis v í li-^v.-rd; 'a*f, a far- :,ldi y b;fa" ara d ?7- ^aar Г" i;- а,.Л d íaa 'еш; you'll nave to pit up "witli Шшш. til I ш 'get . fdia i-aaa" d7aa iaaad.a-d иян :tV>r,..\ u> ;.aa ba< baH a{ й !aa :ya:a-Ual a,t( y, :a<- -a !y ;-<•!, Vaa4, ;iad a laaab.a- :a;da íarHaa, i-:Hv I ai .a' haa an. Wia «ía y- a !i а аач I га a brad bda f" 'ad",', al r« 77 a k- r. ad adía a ía <:j]i% d ïa-l îba- Ha -,«»a a a aaV a,'(' karaaa- raía.'í La'.\ na - V-a d » ya; . , vHHa í, 7,.;a, . 7. ; ii'."d„ \:a-u aiab! b í "bona!" af7,; 7 'uí y a í,a- л ya' a' -:a 1 " ^ i-1- liuwU> raí'■ " ¡-d b-'b;.- , aad baaa a„ dr-v H;aiv„ « ,yaa..aa. a ha г a!«l da^ f„(é nf гп^Пгг fnr it. dolaa *a:< aas f.- sad :r- ,¡H b,/ a- da- a, v^iai, ba Whaa î b« v a-i la \ ' a aai —b vvn - radbal tb- "и» Oy N,,,M.f" Ha- ,aad! -d a-rH-7' î;. aryrî-d d b7a \-/;a. ca.r;», <аа-пГ-г! ь. ibe iihkor. w!k\ bow- wmrrnfinff ;rith nd hip iriîulîf. lai seak nmkî 'b'* '^d.^yf !!,.• „b aaa id", b.bd nutlv.v xslm had !'!'«}4;'J ":î ^"'ti' npuu iiiiii. iiut lie waadtpal rii *f« 7" vadead \v ,ay td^atadi ïïî,,a!a/ a 'л^агу ^■bv- • ''"-abad , а:аН!ша> af ^brfrîaad ï fi yraet;. n-fin rVid-nî|-r ^-n^n't ?o rrra-^n a,- fa- In кед. Л: la-a },, , yí(,y f;,,. idnaa-aj' ^-aílaaaa; !aaiaa-7 ni rii..* íaubda 4Î ihv f»;\Ai, inking H-'^iabd ¡m¡¡ at л j" balbav '* da>f, raid ma^da^ Н>и dai r jHd /a?/' baka-d '* VV%;lít who arf* ym, aral \vh?!f. bio у ay W^Htl' 1 aa7-;c-i d^-laa, :i« a,;t! "Ida! thf nnbaa' I iababara. a ad I wa.flí yaa," 5'ay!l-d lita afbíü-. 141Ч'а а ЬЬаГч'г! aîfïid io CU* Vüar u »7na? vaa.i? W*d!. vonM '¿d then, for I'! tbn7t u-fíaf voa b.a¡v7*' Л7 aU rVf;4l Ha 'd í"a"bt b allí,' 'T:<<d., ayj,} b'r.alad aad Jaada 7 íí/f îla dnayriat-a,; «d Ha ar, 17-7 bá, ''t ' ir , LaiaJciy E 77 242 [April 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. And lie put a piece of money into the man's hand. "God bless him and you too for y^ur kindness to both of us; but I don't want" «' There, bundle out. If my mate comes, there will be a nice shine," And so saying, he pressed them gently out, and closed the door. If the, astonishment of the7man was great when he first returned to the world, it was more than redoubled as he gazed round upon the scene which the daylighfc'had brought him. - There were almost a thousand things, he had never beheld-before*.s "Have you never-been in London before he said t*q¡ the boy,; who ^.tood looking ^around 4,him just as wonder-stricken. **No;i only got" into London last night, and lost a >friend somewhere near where I saw you," was the reply, as he-stood staring up \t one of the huge railway bridges that now - span our- streets.,, | ? Thenxame the' mighty rush of an engine'and" train through it, the rumbling of which caused them to start back "and run from it, nearly up- setting the porter who had behaved so kindly to them, and who had just left his duties. "Why, what is the matter?" he said." "What is ail that?" said the frightened man, pointing up at it. "Ha, ha, ha I" and he laughed merrily. One would think you had been asleep for a hundred years and just woke up. Here, come along; I am going to • have my breakfast, :and yo\x had better , come and have isome:;at:the'same crib." V* '' ., They entered a..CQ^ee-honse ¡that was close by,* and the man p¡cdered:breakfast. - i "-. "I say, young one," sai^thc porter, " уоцфий away the grub as ; though,I'ypu hadn't;.бешй any for a week.".- *'".?' "I lihyQ seen,:plenty, but haven't had,imuch,'t was the reply/. ,- "Ahjl been on-the tramp, Д suppose ; well-'it's' a pi%i for.you scêm a fine sharp ladK. iiWhy ^on't; you get him a berth, eh, guv'nor • •; -A-' "What, Д? .That ainlt'lik^^ have/only just come out in.the wofl4 myself.-'/ "Öome, Д say,' none.pf thät.'V; ¡ "ti «ay [that >I have been,' dead, and—-" 'v "Come/to:Iifc« again;" :said the porter,¿rising^l "Ahfí well; Imy> time is up^Lefc us see -; 0[áck said youvwas-bound to Woolwich. Well, then, go ta the.bottpmxf'that streefc¿¡thertturn to the right;* and (tlib a-oad; is straight ^before, you, and good*! luck« gO'Withiyou ; that's:all I have.got to say,"'-: W$h;yer never.:can tell; I thought-: so once—andylr shan't ^See the^ two sevens agin—I say I thought so when I was blowní!6§r the topsail yard, and, was* floating about, for a couple of hours and more afore I was picked up!" .'"'./- V During this the wanderer:was.again trying to "discern the object'he^ ^xiously-soughtr- . "Лете, Jierc^ài&Jhe £ld salt, " don't be a wearin' your precious eye-sight; it's none too good at your turn o' the tide. Take a sight through the glass ; I shan't charge you anything for it, you are as welcome- as the flowers of May." The man .took the" old battered telescope and looked steadily through it. At last, with a heavy sigh, he put it down. "I cannot see it—it has gone." "What has gone?" V-;".The flag that used to fly on the tall mast that^stood-, in тун father's garden," was ,the reply,r.r. J. "A-flag vflyingvxut-there 2" said the old pen- sioner ;•" there * ain't been* no flag flying ,out there since ;I:hàve,usedtthc park." ./ "And how'long :hàs that been 2" ." Five and't\yentyt-years coma ;old Martin* mas day. I remembers. it well, because it was the day that I got rather ;too much in the head, and broke mytlcg.'V.v , j ; »The faces of both' evinced great concern.. _ \ f' V* Don't be alarmed, it warn'.t the nateral lègf bût the timber one; and' a lucky;thing it wasn't the former." " 1 I !":Why,was it lucky?" said the boy. /,, « Why,; you see, my jad, if it had a been the real ícg¿.why,*my dear cypjs, I should have had а^длгг 6î timber í.legs; but/-it*s ail of no use, they will :leave those coal shoots unfastened, and/nin coorse, when I stepped on t at ЛЬ capsized up;a¿d capsized me .down, jand the.le^g snapped off like a ; carrot." ¿ ^ "~A: ■? ",The wanderer í{who:had just^returnedi^to the tworld paid^no attentipn to thiá¡í*. f ■'Full :of {déspairi;;;hé leanedjlagainst the \tree, covering;his face; with his.hands, down^which streamed the tears of\bitter, disappointmelît. All the wrongs, all the horrors of his incar- ceration, rose at once-before him. "I would that I had died'before çthey opened my prison doors to send me again into va,world in:which:na hope, no joy,'no sunshine exists-for тел-,'' » Hé'glanced down upon the face of the boy, who¿was looking up at him with tears floating in hiseyes. "Then suddenly he murmured— "Yes, yes; there may be some hope left;yei?b The old pensioner at this strange scene -^epfr looking from,one Jo the other with^a^piiazled expression of face^?,' , At length he took off histoid; three-cornered, hat, and smoothed down his grey hairs. "Look ye, mate," he said, "you're not the only man who has returned to" "The world," murmured theother,i«to find all gone." "How long have you, been away 2" "Twenty and seven years," was the reply. "Phew!" And the old tar stumped off, giving a loud whistle. "This suspense," said the man, "is worse than death. At least I will summon up.courage and know the worst." "And.I will go with you," said,the boy. "Yes; do not you desert me." And taking his hand, they went in the direc- tion where the old house stood twenty and seven years ago. The. man and boy walked on for some distance in silence. But more than once the latter turned round and could see that, the old pensioner was taking a parting look at tnemrthrough his glass. The man seemed so absorbed in* his own re- flections that the actions of the boy¿were not all heeded by him. On they went through the town;> while the snow was falling fast. .He occasionally stopped and 'glanced round, and almost staggered back at what he.saw. i 4 "What had been a barren waste, twenty- and three years ago .was .now built upon. 4: * V The dock-yard, too, had swelled its, proportions, but all was silent within its walls.;' , J* Come on, boy," he said, hoarsely; v" every- thing seems dead, as I have been for years. About a mile, further, and then I shall see-—" He paused, and placed his hands to his eyes,, as^if to shut out the memory-of*the«past. "Sec what?" asked the-boy. - < "The home I was born in, or its wreck. This suspense and agony is worse than death." He seemed as if suddenly endowed with new life and strength, for he dashed forward, although the road was a hilly one, and rather difficult to ascend. But when he had done so, he stood gazing upon the scene ncfore him with'-blanched checks and lips quivering with emotion.i:. There before him .was -the: long avails :'of the railway stretching as far as he could-see. \ Then he rushed down, > crying out nv tones of piercing agony— "Gone I gone-!"samibas if. struck-by the hand of death,^hc'rreeled.^and 'sank;,down ,upon ■ tho earthy?' ":' * ./'''•:';,-. -,. ,л, Terrified at this sight,4hè tboy threw; lnmselt upon 'his knees by 'him; ?• ,r, i" Help! help : l'rVhè shouted."■ He is dying Î: hëdsdyingj";: V V v; " '*";'■'," I, "Who is.dying?" said a voice near.him.4t Ш looked upj and saw a; figure of aiwoman standing close by him.*. V r A door had opened in one of the arches of the* ■ railway, and its inhabitant came out, startled,by С the piercing cries of the boy. 1 :,: The person who had so readily come toithe aid-} of the boy was so quaintly dressed that it was at first doubtful whether it was a man or woman; The lower part;of the person was clad in a. thick lindsey-woolsey skirt, while the upper part was protected by a.thick pea jacket; there was a'capjonlier head^which was kept from falling , off by V large: sou'- wester, fastened under л the; chin, while á thick^ hälf-dirty red comforter was hanging loosely;round the neck. "WHàt are |you squalling out in tha^iashion for?" said the woman. "r ":> * "" . vil," Ш wiU :dici\V' replied.,the, lad.;% f«He has^i fallen suddenly to the ground."r ;f;■; "\ .4; , . \- " Has he though I" :said. the • woman;; striding^ ôut.ir" That must not be. ,,..Help-me to gctihiimi up and bring Jaim in.V; "* /'' By this ¡time the ^oldlman seemcd :tpohave partially recovered,,and, by;dint'of:;sônie littléí exertion, théy.raisedhimup,' and, between them/4) got him into the place the woman 'had jüsMssue&¿ from. ;'--J "IV u " Shut the doorrboy,'? V"she said. . i He did as>he4>yas ,told, and ^then^vent up to his companion. r, V < ; The woman: ;had :¿ placed him a cosy sort of \ öld-fashioned chair by the fire that was briskly; burning*;^ V'J . V "There,-there, sit thee down and rest., * FecK faintishí J suppose? ^.AVell, well, we'll see about..' that."" '..; She went to a shelf, and took from it a bottle containing brandy,~and poured out a glass. "There, there, drink>that ;,;it will ,do thee good." He took -it mechanically'from 'her .hand, ! and. slowly, drank it.off.V'-; V \ . "Tiredj'I supposé ?!', she said. - . "Come off a long^ourney,?!! \ . e "Twentytseveniyears.of crucr:injustice," he muttered.4v ■ • "What's ithat ?!l' saidЛЫ:woman.; « twenty- seven years. ;„3Vherc have you come fróíáií^- APRIL I, 1870. 243 BOYS OF'ENGLAND. "From the grave," was the reply. "The Lord Save üs I -the man is mad. He Cooles worm out. You are tired, father?" "Yes, of my life 1 Ôh, that I could rest for •ever !u "Hush I don't talk likclhat. You shall have lest while I "get the> dinner ready¡ and then we'll see what's the matter. - There, lean.upon me, and go and 'lie down upon that bed yonder." In a half-dreamy state, as though his senses had left him, he suffered himself to be led by them to the bed that was in one corner of the place, and sinking down upon it, with a heavy sigh he closed his eyes as though in sleep. During this the'boy had been looking round "With я wondering-face. The; place was well and comfortably furnished; the;sides of itwcre-thiekly boarded so as to keep *out the cold and damp. A gasVlamp hung down * from the centre of tihc roofJ; and in one part of the archway »there was*a large-fire-place, and a capital fire burn • áng; in fact, • the room bóre the aspect • of great -comfort; A good-sized saucepan was on* the fire; and. the woman, after taking off the lid,.and inspect- ing its contents, sat herself down in the chair •and looked at the boy, who was seated opposite never, saw themanr——" / 11 Before I saw him on/ London) > Bridge -last night, and I thought he was going, to throw him- •over, and" / , г "You stopped him, cu ???Л' ... "Yes ; but he said h¿ was not;going to do it; and then we walked on together. I wanted to 'get to Woolwich." "Is that all you kmiw of him 2" "Yes, and enough/too, I think! I wonder whether he is asleep."! - Saying this, he wfent noiselessly to the bed and kneeling down liistened. As the boy laid his! bead down by that of the man, the light shone/ powerfully upon the faces ■of'the two. f •It was strange-to feee thciearnest look of the woman as she rose fÄom her chair, leaning upon , thehandles and bcrading anxiously' forward with earnest' loobupon fhcmvbotli. ■ "Good "heavens/l can it be?" she muttered.- u Strange things lAavd cómo to pass before this, mid- 'V ■ \ Slicn^as intcrJuptcd^byi the return of thé boy.: "He is fast ailcep/' die said, "and it will him goodi •> I d on-t care if -1 get a iiap -my- self,^' With which -h. з ^curled-himself »-up in one ■corner, of the fire-j alacedikc a dog, and looked up atthe-woman.-- 5 .' "If you want тле giveme -a shake, I shall be ready;" • } And in a very tfíhort time ho had-f alien asleep, The woman sati looking from the one to-the other in a sort of; wrapt amazement ;'buttas the boy lay with his ЙЧсе exposed to the liglny she . gradually-rose-up a4nd turned on the gas to its greatest extent. >; Then, with a- noiseless step, she approached the bed upon whicMi the man lay, and looked earnestly upon him.* "No, no, I am wr ong," she said ; "and yet a long time has gone I2>y." A movement of t/4ie man's arm, thrown out as if in a paroxysm of anger, made lier start back and move again,to her seat. Then she partly knelt down, looking at the face of the sleeping boy. "Ha, there is the old likeness again ; well, if it should be/* she muttered, -rising up, "why> then, Master Luke Darrell, look- out,lthat*s alU' "Take your hand¿from off .her, Luke, or I'll brain you as you stand," shouted -a voice, and that so loudly that it caused both the woman and the boy to star-t up. It proceeded from the man* who had, in the paroxysm of his rage, sprung out upon the-floor, and now stood erect as -he might-have stood twenty-seven, years previously. "Oh, villain,-villain Í" he exclaimed. And theui looking round, fell again, into his old stooping position, muttering— "I have been; dreaming.; -it has been the dream that has haunted me for so many nights. Ah, me, life is only a dream!" "Nancy Bell was right after all," muttered the old .woman ." but I'll be cautious, 'Why, what on earth is the matter, ch V> "Nothing; nothing," replied the man. "I have been dreaming of the past.*' "Ah, them 'ere dreams at times- arc ugly things, and sometimos • show the conscience ■ is not all right." "Conscience 1 my conscience is right enough," replied the man, moodily* sittiug down. "Well, boy," he said, "turning to the lad¿ ¿' have you had a good warm V "Yes, thank you.". "Ah, well, now-I thinfc-we'll befogging,- and not intrude upon this good woman." "You'll do nothing of the sort \mtil you havO had some dinner." "But, my good woman, we y "Don't good woman me, because I am-not going to put up with it. Sit ye down and be thankful that you have dropped into good quarters such a day as this. Why, the snow is coming down cnough.to blind one ; so sit still." With that she lifted the lid off the saucepan* "Won't be long first. A good Irish stew won't hurt any one's feelings such a day as this." с It did not take her long to put the table in order ; but, much to the astonishment of both the wanderers, it was set out in a manner very dif- ferent from what might? have been expected. t trm piuco," Tepbed the man, геЫЬ»<ит» of the inv-t. whib* tíic ey.s of tím !' IÎSr' tttowvdv íimitriHtMU.vm íiíh head. 4 pair that were listening î«» aim weru bent upo»; ROMANCE OF FHEN0H ШЬХШьХ. -у(а: i uss.- probat Iii- bay !]»•%' wore \ I H¡'hb.: i nv< th.- -'1'* "f the b^t I a.s Î ahvay«!" '"" u w „ ^ w, mV.vj. and ti y ur,,r /yh wie"- fbV wasUbdiabbu hH'/lmt vvimrn my îii-mot her« íbey' m"h« лиШог иГ*Г4гг aw., л.. heuvea i'v.-'i f.» b,r¡k upun.stood wntmdm/tm'm : i w»uv .*оИ that it wen» t»> my heart with auch \ ^ - —*~ * a \ i, abe wa.í tuera, a:ib whore she шоу У" bu ; a tuarhu emll that í shnekud uiuiid," ^ ^ ^ » Г ttlTitîi'.ïv. í, ,u uhokítu: a-' ^ ^J^Ov'^í !a:v**", í 'Sap T':>*' ;«-i,irh oí Pnilif« I" %f tly.y Ъг-4'b sfii.l. \>^:&*Г^Ш2£] mU\'^4 to tin- /f/'W'/^ í >":<«! !'" ronvuí.Ni V"iy Л:}н'!<"! i f i'.*/ b«;y, ;Г'///'//'.". v/,,- ïb 11" ir. lo -;íí i-Íím'íojt Im !h<- bnlK Ни- k)íufbr it; wívh ir-ti HÍí;sil».il\ Сай«-а^1. :ин.га-КоунДны, imú now tbt» Liberal party, di- -i WíHiiíw wb'j aiway-, cuíhí to ¡ гсо?:пт ihr miio?iibl", a l«»'J*o(f ,,f tbn nainv of ba-¡l I >i'1b'î utkT liavi: you j jfiiiii, a» isue Lurried alter иш up Uiu utaiw; * th».î, beiuj: the cíüfí nt'lur in tue movement His .•ïîs;ï!î. 4,1 Have ' 3iî,'«-( «ixp«4'íod i'.'íiu' at ЛЬ, |«>or lb' "í" тли sí аг1''Ь. a::< i í ч, '¡rJ bi^ i;!/» haitíi it!'. - bb brea"!., wa.«í about t«< p'.'h ¡ У 'i i^ ¡m rfjd i.j bar ^iibbrtn^b _ ¡b;.haa-d Ьм bdiow* **% win waof ^ahi-.fiad *'.Nu: l ou'у rcmwrnbci o:ie ui" thoüi." I "Alter a Limo üha ielt uic, «is-yîn^ thai aha 1 with üils %'a,a uld дом» r.-mrn ; um! Own I sal ajxaa fhe boa» Jot* Nap', aad * hi«u î!î Mît ' ¡a \v a a ,a! a- oi bbicKs wmhI upiai , au d to ту чаrpra-r,; Ida- í b > a d.aii uaaa î,o iba âo!, -di/ia! ,y - »paiaai | I aad a-v-a" ^aa \ l' íoí!,«-¡ ».at, aad b.-aîiiy aiooa»-/; il, fa'f f;a: . ¡-: < , i Ь,- a aaa b;a It.atl bolMiV P, ;n,b - X; ¡'.'I;';) ■ lu «"П - d' "1 had bel I-a/, a, 'h« I Y .... ,a i'ï "o a,ad iook ha- a ^адаар; in ba- -aaa1 i a ¡batí, î boa ,. '" Va- va- , î)oda *• V b : • ubuut *aa ;• d \. л Aua1 ji-av, ту b'.-y, la na k¡ « a;aaa, j t; 1 '"a aid know Wir üp -a .o b- Mií- ti: o. W :d'l that | ,. У У t,b maa I \\ Via ar" !a ra. i'! "* aaa "-ad ta h .-a. ara i tr Vid !;•■• lip to VOM!' KÏU'US líríofr ■ OiV ЯГ5а»:- rOUüd №}' ; а,- 1 {а аома, ?*оГ .,.;',,{,.(• "-* ib- ам a-d ,ii alo j a-uk a.-' LuuU'/a his ! coals of fire beat iipoi me, !" 'íiaat be aa 1С; d' 'aaoîi tb • faoa of - )\ d f "a a'!: a ; ad" ','»at • î la- !'ap'yv 1 ,aa! a -aia,; • a;i-..' a a: aau, I hav* i",trr * > In-ai si a" , "% .\;,. , a/a' a- few 1 havt* bad >omo m uH ■ brf" i-, «mjy auoth« : ;aa-î na d" 1 ! > '.'Cad hard a! m 1 4 a Л í-'V id-..' voí'.d .said bas* .".<•<::• ux'moi, id 1* ^iaaaid d d.' a.>a a-la: aad • I a:a \ lt I h^ard a,a b: s, ä j., ai ',' a - <, ',,. ; i i ti j "ilia., thhd; ig" 1 !:::c('i!,'"'ííais of a tha on, 1 saw., him go to t quantity of ( ir, íí i; i Л~о Л WA r, u IT waa at a pas v a nod- out of ba»-,r] oa! asaao i ,'' * I vaa!i ïa;, aub.u-/, ^ 'paaaad aaial'ti adboi-v'- î VO'I- >ady las \ . •;!!.«•' aid ada-Si J v.'a <' ** Tb'-îi hit , , , , .no, , , .. . - r"] f' *U"- ^*пшиц and -hoi Tha, alsUaid-d ti,uí u\] í4„;;«/Miv-d da o Wfre d¡-:V- /"d- ' J ,,,ЧП ГГШГШ(:Н lllr У Ь: aras: ,ab-d paaísiad wit a pnaapt >o,,nt v: Ib . i aísa-clíd f"1 (í? ;i ^.i m »UTS ovaiam^ «ly u.oflmritv 1 ли» with kmd wor.b; arm, earydna Шо ЬУ ад- ; лГ-оГ waiaba-a- forera o uba with a fri.-r.d î» V*U5:v';h'rdÉS,s ^aaiimas Miaaad.ia^í an Paira phtaad nsys Ida ab, wsust I bad \ ih» unmv.Uùm Zî Шпййи,', W;r« «api an b. тЫ. ; .l Ui ■ чш • ;;ак?а"/ at bar wdií а ! a-üfma lace . So оМ<ч, aai rtaaiiij.L with íicr wbu wa^ uuw m> i and ex* out*>j, bai'.au.So sía- ¡ookad so daadh' Paha , нюг<У" ¡( « b„ , , , , , , í. i-, ( a. , i » Г í; j I.^Ja, a 1" rmauiariay ÍV,i,b Wíír !Víl,!. ím , ь Voi; aiali m-va;r want a ííiofíaa- whíh; 1 libas , was so¡t P> Sa;un %M jv.^ora ta.- kbmí id 'i■ ,Г ,Ч'М'f< ;;íírí :ií ^-«laia fimo'mv boyb said! Naaay BH!t abrapfïy bmnhmir 1 that Co»mtrv (Г-rdinamî), who bad пЫ bo.an /а^Га,: V''/;1,,,,:',.Î » ^"V"^"- 'T"" V ,'! boy Ь-nko.í c:.piv.^;va!v at the women a* ¡ vadera опооиги^'Ц no cfírclivu oi)iaaa¡ydaat ami ,,ал ,*-tHi waaiiio tjift ma nu a 'jo"„'î Ьот, лги] aba- lUaa.Ul п.:. Ma,4„, i:;,,,, a r>,is, î , ," » • a , ,' ai.-a a ua -, . л ata» tuna isTümsud rahmiod, «a ivas p-, и ut I у »•'j о.м|4| „ i i - "Iduük aiüd í.a rpdtd ; *"bü! ¡ mía-» ¡rvídd | :,-'''',v<"« !'> '"''а'иц- ,bd úa[,alia -avav, ^aY^t^o ivitó iiV,,uu -Д tt t^t i • ti:rbf mv Wt^v tíimucrh tho worid mv*«!f"" Ti)Í4 1»Ьт1агШ!ии with ibu dtíiaírs oí frmw «' • •«• '' 1 n" l!-d mí aso foad o a- . Hiî,:rb;iv ¡n îhu adadr.-, of ut; >!hur» <\4«'.upt itt "And .su am b" Ktidi.hu иш ru w!udu îa» îba.ï €^%v^,vr^ ^ ^nty aiad imiimbaiu b- î-, иг»- »• иаа-и ... ,t| f}.,. s, • 11 г"'ч*к o! thu ПЫ 'i-.vunimoïil a n? rofaju'oujisi'd, \V 1« ' î' "!" ',l'V' 7' , • b» '"'d-d f" -di.av ÜUU íia; 1У W< ■ i í U ••>?! la5 a Of и «is tue», fuíuimud tua. castawaiy - attrr a ¡ spaîii were îa correspondence wutti ituvolunon- 1 ';,:;J ;i •'■ ia l'd'a'íuo, ai id !hb Ьпиьа' aia-o. fu' a: ut b •' и -uiprofMged the Ьи.й jateru^. * oí the latter v seemed as j country. y Ilia vaar- W'-ra adopt*-i ; bs? he b-'/lb" after- - ne repue< iglit my way through the world myself.' 1 That is right ; I am. glad to hear it, if shows n-sïad «as my' !wad, aal s Г , do .'a-d a.: bar loua- ,ob¡¡(v, i uiadti aínu i a* b . k, s la î :-,it iúübui up at her. I ío rde^p In a little b,p<1 in the prim' a-ora, as d savu afb"a ¡Pml^p n¡} whoi I Ьич boa.ro dor - :ddsp aad o^bbiuas''' 4» l*-«"n i-'V ; 1 wadi I had buiai ujdii you, ha iHiü' t a- ala.a uatü" dov/íi a: have M'.u><'({ h'-rd'.'"ud Xauuys i'ors"! i,ii¡t, l4Ah. w«dh you uuuld imt havu waved her with ** *h' und buuu a ïaÛ ïïiau» bai n ad .Tour bbebea'U, fo: eue ктпии-.; when f asvobo beat daîdba-, h i.s baos иа-Уиу a- ti íía -m, -a. a • -assis , sa: о :Su г<-о?ь Hîy < |¡,. ,,;.pf4 ' ; íí us Г' -b¡vií-/ no'ta'a! -, ' I board ;s b-ad кипе, say ph:U'K»'d. íl ' 'Дал pa>b sí !У и-as\ мин. ío," î bo ue aauîu . wa- í rias'po; ."so -.a-fifu- o-a; У bod. wai .oP'i, o, :f saiu a ¡y "I n.^, :ri raof !hu .a pi ua" ¡ •« « a o< vo¡¡ asan Hu!'o da hv-'' ha, » y. : ал У-asi' -aid ;ijuí, rap :i, о pi , ¡„ 3, p. when I vaas'.b y/if ai isd wiab и шже Powerful member í od laa pw a.üüíui, ar.«i nv a,- ^aaa'a;o;i¡ ,,s* .,>:y )i my fü'biu'- '* i sau, bu^.suy ¡u s»; is- paid mai ais ,/,■>>••■, id i v: Г .oui.- XVÎii.. im was s. Atril 1. im,} 245 аЫ. oOH4'vr «,f military :_b<>ry, and d«viar.«d war, !h»*r<- ¡ ьатпг- timo, rofieiîiaîorj ратт.тип, ^ 'fora, against A) trier?», on w-oimt of insusoma | '!'!«»• ruf al patient kîifw b»; «bikini Kr.rwt ¡ tum», befon-. ofîVred tr» the Ff nch Huir, îiïhî íiíso j fiîlH; b'.fnre bo diod, ;ir:.i bofr Ы* doOÎIi Wirb 'fo IV'MI-îlt îi ¡H'ÍWiílJ ílldlirniíj <Ч>1ШШ1Ьч1 Oil ihr j philosophical indiiïona.ro, if iff wíih Fdbobm. , Knaadi ronstb by tho Dry, win* sb aok bim whüo j On the ib» h of Kopüaabor, î -'-M, tbo day bo ■ at a pabho audíoriao." \ had iîx,4] on Гиг bis Iiisi.be died—ntno y<>ur< . < >я íbr bbh « f Мяу. ls;;0. пп army of пУ*т j b¡íbM.M|ui¿nt to bis restoration, ^ forty thousaîa! пит ombarkad a г Toubáj. andón; Ри/íoriM^ílclndííif: «'ИГ îlCOiinit of bb Пар;, it 'Iííí" 1-11 !j J Hb*- Ь%ощ Ь} dbrdabatb on tb<- r<.;tst" will bo proper to mention ihm >»Ь;|ааЬащ had 'of Africa, abvadv died (in ¡^1) ai Н.-Ь-пн, of ;, vory pabdnl complaint^ at tbo a;/-: « П iho di .',-;isV of i.onb XVHL, bo V. !.' ,-',iC'Oí'*'d('d DV iíh !»! • »1 ¡i' Г» Г- ¡il;! b'Ar<<>b\ r.nd'T ihr- ídio >>i 1 'barios X. b v-í \ î} i i î , -1 --ooíio'«,I lo a o b - • ,b brjnbbo ii\ harmony w ; t !i dm pro and thoiv was o;d a.pjH'ro'.'iO'-o ;,od bou.* .oo лц- t>,¡' ífn! Fí'-W ÎOnfO'iîibl V/i'O '.O'' ;0 1; i í i bb ÍHV-nr, ;ks wojv, ai,-'» а о и i y i í ids aaiíHi! o^j.'dí! í<'S. !'b aid < >i' ¡ • o ¡ ¡ : : •; - ;*by. In' was viU'ir.da«aa'b'd, b*: Tbo i bim- b ^ra,ouaî S y • oa-lnoi-d 1 !:• - oí »ía Tía: biro b-a,;( nab • lo t b«: r» Ь Aboí'a< w;>,< ab,« o ?»fí..-.» : 1 i a.' i a «y w»t-: :-«aiS ; •] i í'.t:'■ о,а,Ь.»'Ь a !io d» oí' roía, irorií :и'ou ir-'-a pow-¡- On ihr appro; nîfaokod tboîii. Tbc lü>t, blow was struck by au Arab iiarar«i Wad Adjcdor, who ^rationa.d biiíisolf by tía: ^idt* of a rooky patb. witb an axe in has baud. As an мШо* r aaimnj Il<»/.« t was bdinir ia aihaiíiai; of tbo, Km ich the Л rub lifted his, axe. lbwt aaí!í"í)rd bim adï Willi a oor,o*nipf аоцч wavr .a tho, haial, but Adjcdoe struck, and tbo Froïiobman r> i^oao tbo-í- '^5 door-o-. which vhlwiîly snb^rtfd th«» OífiIS! il lit jo'ad ¡0'Í VÜí'O''.* to ooaoot. 'í'b first oí íb.^'< do-ña-- dd^elv d a f)'-w1y obtdod fdaiínbor oí I'^iaaioo wbioli had not y vi :i>*oiib"l'jd: !i'." :«oot¡(í ohaiit:<-d !bo. !,*ол oí' ob-a í».us aab disfraiirJdsod îbo oToai b«nly и! оЬчЧ.огь,, and î iaj fbiî'd sa/ojoo.fob î'b.- p»'C^ Ь'! -overo re-trî«''îîo!,,< vbbdi v.abl i'.r;vf utterly aiiiiibbalod къ büerta-j-s. Tab dt ого> > 'лом' ,,íb.\< a a¡ '!,, wadded Pnrip on îbo ibdlí ba'y, bd'î>. ;ana id1 ;aid mdí^nmiíwi, nnú pia-dürrb i*i;>ab- \vhi«.'h wo нЬаЬ describe iu v\\v wxl obapíor. i'í'tj hf cv»aii¿¡;> o. i '{.füí'xaoo) «a ív, a.;;») o;: í1 a or abya-' a; -\ гкшаа l.idv bí ír-jj :>r. :ao>r Üo/ Ь.!!м-л'1м-Ь_1(,ЬЬЬ- aso' aíovna;—Xo. d,„ak \..ti< л aao/b:;T ";,ort^b ut boiii»;." .\ каи-л '\<, :o.v, ],и- itUî v\b'd. v. ! a m of bid ,( b>'<] a a 'tí.v b». b ¡!«,a ! bi o oinaer ïo b a. «■ V, b -j b¡ba', ba< b'r :a,.:í 'л'л, "Ví.aiiof oi íLo province ob' а,;: |4г1о* " (iure т Mr ЬгЛЬгЧ'.;. '¡^ 1 !;"-ичЬ5. -aal ¡a- hoi roana <■ *a„ "S'^y. пг<аа'(а', yaí'ro p atbaaia. y •;ГУоЛ •/■''•л ; i. i ta tak(! wn? t^> i^"' ton ant - iron rni î « aia whose тотвоа batí poleoíi's bidlofiíF, < This гаоаяпго p; ("liarii/s wiihbü'ow ii: ruxiatiiecL Aitbutigii tac iidids' to notica* í la* sigas •'prend hv¿ í h ro u g ho ut i п iaonbi j'-aaao bfly b^i;. d 1а;«!(п-.-».:И:га1<( s »Í(dljr''b in Na- b.-id i ;a bad odb.-o.. and Kabyb'8, war ba'tvo.ai tbo Ficaa^a : ssoh<îoïï of 1 hr <*ini*H abovo laoio board, pivr fuN-a-d'a, t-/ tb" liiab; bosiibii'4 "ib "the Arabs by inaivbino a eoiunm of Lb^K^? ia ;. a plaoo tatUr*d J.bdaii, í a S.MS ska a ; thee bd \hku\ Larraia—^ Priaab .-»ba~i (h-djv to be so kind as fo i/o to oar >. and aa ^baü {,,кг y онмп.ч ar'aavof ;Vr {M;<\' ,•*•]/,«' Hir oaîavtid iah*.,'!,;«'!«' ,,f ! í bi.o-b"-' f Irtj'ïu âab brittf tiíio ban-c j-'rioini Ib¡r- 'aa:a. :bo ¡uda«\ aad d-arb Ida: ir fio î , Ki< 'tvr,;bd "of d<a ,',r,di ¡)í:a\*"ai off by some passing vessel. 1 Owing to the "Nemesis" having been driven upon the rock by the force of the wind* while the -current-" flowed strongly in the opposite direction, not a barrel of biscuit or beef, or any- thing-else that'was "edible, had been, cast upon; 'the rock after the, vcsseVbroke up., 1 '-' Tom' looked » anxiously Amongst the .timbers and planks ot the steamer's head, but found only a pea-jacket, which had become entangled in the wreck, and in the pocket of which was a small tin case containing matches. This he secured, as, giving him the means of making a fire. Then he dragged upon the rock a quantity of wood, consisting of broken planks and splintered timbers; some of these ne piled in a heap, and, by igniting with a match some shavings taken off with his pocket knife, made-a fire. As a column of dark smeke ascended upward he glanced towards the islands to the southward, wondering whether'1 they were inhabited, and whether, if they were,'the natives would cometo his relief in their canoes on seeing his signal of distress. . {• Again he cast anxious looks to the west and the eastrahd then to the north, and wondered how far off the ascending .column of smoke could be seen. As the day progressed,1 he found the ^cravings of his stomach become ^more intense,** but'^ he looked in vain*about thcTock for even atmorsel of sea-weed. T t The \ day /passed without\ a * sail having been visible, ând as; darkness fell around the solitary; rock his signal-fire threw, a red glow upon !tho waves as they! rolled onward, eddying* round the rock with a melancholy murmur 4hat * increased the solemnity of the situation. •The tropical sun had dried his own clothes and' the pea-jacket which ho had found on the rock, and he now sprcad i the latter upon a ^sheltered spot, and laid down to rest. Despite hunger and thirst, he fell asleep, and, worn out by the toils and dangers of the previous • night, and want of the. sleep of which the storm * had deprived him; he Blcpt long and soundly. -When he awoke the sun was gilding the waves, and 'white-winged 'sea-birds were* wheeling I around the rock. 1 His fire had gone out for lack of fuel. * He scanned the horizon anxiously as soon as lie.awoke, and was not long in distinguishing a large ship to leeward, sailing on the starboard tack, with all her canvas spread, and her yards braced to catch the íaYpuring impulsa of. the trade wind. \ \ . Springing to Ins-feet, ha hastily hcapctl.up a pile of. wood; in a; few - minutes ! the. fiâmes crackled at his feet,, a column of. dark, smoke rose high above his head, and was then borne to, leeward by the breeze. . Some time elapsed before there were any indi- cations that his signal of distress had, attracted any attention aboard the passing ship. Tom stripped himself to his trousers, and, standing up on the highest point of the rock, waved his shirt above his head. Oh, how anxiously his eyes, were now bent upon the ship! Her yards were braced in the opposite direc- tion, and,'day upon that rock without a morsel of f obd." What ship is this ?î> inquired oncöf. the men, with a jerk of the heads towards? the timbers of the mocked vessel. "Her majesty's ship 'Nemesis,''*-replied our hero. "She struck upon the тоск in the storm the night before last, and went to pieces. You see, I am afraid, all the relics of her." The men shrugged their shoulders, or sighed, or shuddered, according to their several tempera- ments, and then they pulled vigorously towards the ship. She was the "Rosy Hannah," of Liverpool, bound to Calcutta, with a cargo of railway iron. T!om"related to 'Captain Raymond; - herücom mander, the story of the running- down of the "Tetrel," the abandonment of himself and companions upGn an island of the Maldive group, their adventures on board the Arab dhow, and the loss of the "Nemesis" in the storm ;and the captain ordered a look-out to be kept for any survivors of the wreck who might have drifted northward on floating spars or timbers. Early on the following morning a man in the foretop called out that he could see something in the water on the larboard bow, and the officer of the watch immediately had the helm shifted and the yards braced so as to bring the ship into the course that would bring her down upon the object. What it was could not at first be distinguished, but in less than an hour three human beings were discernible upon a floating fragment of wreck. Six bells had just struck when Tom Lester rollcd'out of his berth, and, being informed that a piece of the wreck was ahead with living beings upon it,:ran' eagerly up the companion, and sprang into the foremast's larboard shroud. —'There/ rising and falling on the* sun-gilded wavcs,: »was the main-truck upon^which three sailors, apparently lads, were drifting with* the cmrent. "There is Snowball Î" he exclaimed,- in an ex- cited manner, upon perceiving that -one of the unfortunates was a negro. "And* there is one o'f the raids; and I think the- third- is. Dick." -The ship was bearing down upon the fragment of Vwreck so rapidly that they were soon near enough for Tom to recognize Dick, and to pronounce the midshipman to be Arthur, the youth with whom he had spoken on the night of the wreck. The,lads were much changed. Gaunt and hollow-eyed, with lips parched to blackness by thirst and fever, and limbs trem- bling under them as they were assisted aboard the ship,* their -appearance toldatalcof suffering, without tho aid of words. Tom helped to carry them below, to remove their wet clothes, and to place them in berths, and then the surgeon attended them, and, after administering restoratives* directed that they should be supplied,with nourishment in small quantities at frequent intervals, .-, £>ur hero nursed the three lads -until they were strong enough to go Upon deck, and had the- satisfaction iof seeeirig them completely restored after , a Jew days. CHAPTER XV. AN" ADVENTUEÉ IN CAtfcrXTTA. Tom Lester and' his" companions -reached* Calcutta without encountering any further perils, and as soon as theRosy .Hannah had dropped her anchors in the Hóbghly, thoy went ashore. Landing at оде bf the lower, ghauts near Fort William, Tom shook hands with the young,mid~ shipman, and proceeded in search of apoiiee^court*. accompanied by Diçk anoYSnówball. They had seen the "Boadicea V amongst the crowd of shipping of all > nations' lying in" the- broad river, and were resolved4 tb'procure justice upon her commander with as littie delay üs pos* sible. But, by the time they had, by repcatcjdin4umesr found the building in which justice is" dispensed,, they found that they were too latö to" obtain a summons that day, • They turned their steps . towards 'the riverr therefore, and were not long in reaching the- noble quay which constitutes"the favourite- promenade of. both the European and native residents, and where, as the sun went down behind the blue-looking jungle that stretches along the right bank of the.'river, a crowd of Hindoos assembled to pray, to waslr themselves- in the stream which they'deem sacred, and to cast lighted tapers and torches upon its bosom,, glowing in the ruddy, light.of the declining sun,, as its waters glided past. "See. those three lads> Mr; Oliversaid a stout,' bronze-visaged man; having'"'the1 appear- ance, of an .English, skipper, who: was'standing* ©n the quay. "If jny eyes do not dceciveme by this fading light, they are young Lester arid his- mate, and Master Snowball." "Shall I overhaul them, Captain Bowler?" inquired the mate of the "Boadicea," after re- garding our hero and his companions attentively for a few minutes. "Do, Mr. Oliver," replied the captain; "but be cautious ; do not let them see you. However did they reach Calcutta?" he added, pensively, as the mate walked towards the spot where Tom Lester and his companions were standing. In a few minutes Oliver rejoined him, with the intelligence that the three lads were indeed Tom Lester, Dick, and the Scedi. "They must be got aboard the Boadicea r with as little delay as possible,*Mr^ Oliver,*' said Captain Bowler, in a hoarse whisper.**"*" AU wilî be well;if *.they are got aboard by to-morrow morning.--Can you manage it?" "I think I-can, Captain* Bowler?" replied Oliver, who had -been promoted to the chief officership in the place:b£ Air. Sinclair, since the vessel had been lying in'the^Hooghly,. and was- -willing to earn further rewards by the same crooked ways, *"You;> will need aniallyv" observed Captain Bowler, after a pause of a few,moments. And, as пезроке,- he: beckoned toi a native girl, loosely dressed in white cotton; with silver bracelets upon her 'bare arms,--who' was walking slowly along the quay. 1 The girl's dark-eyes caught the gesture as they roved from, side to sideband she stepped quickly up to the two-seamen. Leaving the trió in-conversation, wc must now return to,Tom Lester arid his companions. Immediately*"after "the chief officer of the "Boadicea" rejoined Captain Bowler, a drunken American sailor came reeling along the quay, and, as he came close to where our hero Avas standing, was brought by the zigzag line which he was describing into violent contact with a Lascar. Staggering about in his endeavours to regain his equilibrium, and discharging a volley 0f the most offensive Yankee abuse, the drunken sailor produöcd a Blung-shoty with which he proceeded to make a savage attack upon the unoffending native seaman. APBIL 1,3870.] 247 BOYS OF ENGLAND. Before the latter could escape he received a blow on the side of the head which prostrated him upon the quay ; and his brutal assailant was about to follow up the attack by kicking him when Tom Lester sprang forward, with an indignant flush upon his handsome countenance, and with a well-directed blow knocked the cowardly fellow into a heap. "Stars and stripes T'said the American, as he gathered himself up, and looked around. "I'd give drinks round to know the fellow who did that. I would now 1" "You-had better get aboard your ship, my friend," observed Tom, with a look which im- pressed the fellow with-< the conviction that in the giver of this i piece .of advice he beheld the author of his discomfiture. v«« Oh,\ you/are the little cock that Avants to crow over the .eagle t" said he, ;and .having lost his slung-shotin his fall^he; drew a -large knife from the;inside of his jacket; and made a furious lunge with it. Tom leaped f backward as he saw the mur- derous-looking knife gleam in-the fading sun-. Hght, f; and: Snowball struck; the/American so severe a blow under the ear. at the same moment that he reeled to;the edge of the quay, and fell into the water. The Lascar looked over the edge of the quay, and,: seeing-, his \ assailant dragged out oE the water by, some ^European sailors in a boat, which was immediately rowed into the stream, turned towards his champion. "Thanks I" said<;he,'- grasping ;both/Tom's hands fervently. "You have perhaps saved; my life.' How can I.reward yóu?" _{[ "By doing as much for any. poor, fellowJyou: sec in need of such help," replied Tom. "I did only my duty." "Thanks 1" repeated the Lascar, who did not Appear to be an ordinary native sailor, since he wore a scarlet -turban, embroidered with gold thread, and a girdle of the same colour and ornamentation about his middle. "I have a presentiment that some day I shall be able to do you a service in return; and when that day comes you will not find me ungrateful." "Till then, farewell 1" said our hero. The Lascar salaamed, and they parted. At the same moment Tom felt the touch of a liand upon.his-arm, and turning round beheld a, native girl whose dusky -skin contrasted.strongly with ker/white dress, an^ with -the- silver bracelets that shone upon.her,bare arms. Sh$ d|d not speak, but, waved her, ■light hand towardsa^streët. atrright. angles. with the - range of handsome houses facing the river, and, turned away in that direction. "She wants to speak to me," said our . hero, following her with his eyes, "I would not go with her, if I wcre< you. Master Tom," observed Dick. But our hero had already began to thread his way through the throng, keeping:the mysterious Hindoo girl in sight. "ГЦ be bound he;wilLget into,.zomescrape, now 1" exclaimed Dick, with an air of vexation. "That snake-eyed young beauty means him no good, I will go bail ; and you and Ï had better voller him, Snowball." The youñg negro acquiesced, and they fol- lowed close in the wake of our hero and the Hindoo girl. Tom sefcmed to expect that they would do so, for he looked back as they turned away from the river, as if to-see whc^icr they were following. His mysterious /guide,,, looking over her shoulder from time to time for the same purpose, went straight. on( for some,.distance,-and then turned to. the left and .again, to ¿he: right. The large houses which ,'mädc: so, fine an ap- pearance from; the river were.lnow left -behind, and they entered a maze o£narrow, crooked, and badly lighted streets, where dingy houses of sun- dried bricks alternated with; frail-structures of bamboo, varied here and there with a dilapidated bazaarrora pagoda, picturesque in, its decayed magnificence. This is the Black Town, inhabited solely, by the .native population. The narrow streets, comparatively deserted during the heat of the day, were now filled with a busy throng, some flauneing in silks and . brocades,, but the greater number dressed in white cotton, and many wearing only a white cloth folded about their middles. Carts drawn by oxen, driven by wild-looking men with thick sticks, creaked along the streets, and often ; impeded thé/progress >f of some rich native's carriage, leading to angry interference on the part of bearers of the silver maces, who ran before the carriages, and an unmerciful use of the thick sticks on the part of the half-naked bullock- drivers. The closed -curtains of red cloth or-silk,\indi- cated thattladies were the occupants of >some of these carriages'; but Шоу were unseen, and "with these exceptions there were few women.in ]\he streets,"índ the demeanour of those few was .not calculated^ impress strangers with a very exalted idea, of their .morals. - The mysterious Hindoo girl)threadedlher way through-'the crowds that gazed at jugglers and acrobats] and dancing girls, followed by Tom and his^rapanioñs, and turned into an ill-lighted, lane." T ^v^eretlieyjeft-behind .thc crowd and confusion oÏJ;he neighbouring .streets, the.souAds oi.which grew more and more/remote as tfte£ proceeded/ until they heard only the; inonotonoui drumming of tom-toms and the,:tinkling of/pymbals at a little distance, and a.confused murmur from the/ streets they had left behind. * Г The musical sounds,.if-.they can be so called^ reached their ears onlyr at t^e moment when thé girl with the silver , bracelets paused-before ,a dingy-looking brick-built.J^ouse. VV As Tom came up,:\the$ door.was opened, and the girl again placed;her:hand upon his arm. "Г He turned and beckoned to Dick and Snowball, who were by his side jri;& moment. ». ]:{. The girl seemed1^ prepared ;>'£or .this; com: panionship, for.she paused ^w^th^aTamUe^dimp- lingiher dark cheeks,1* and;displaying >hér pearly teeth, until they, came up, andren all entered Ше house. THE CHAPTER XVI. RITES OF KALEE. Tiiey were in a dingy passage dimly lighted by a small oil-lamp suspended from the ceil- ing- The girl touched her lips with her fore-finger as if to enjoin silence, arid led the way to the end of the passage. A door yielded to her-touch, and disclosed a dark rôom. "Wait," ¡ said? the girl, speaking for the 'first time, and in tolerable English, "me fetch light." §he glided-' away immediately, leaving the three lads standing in the middle of theTOom. "I'm afeard you arc getting into a scrape with that young Jezebel, Master Tom," whispered Dick. "It does look mysterious;" rejoined Tom ;"I thought she wanted to speak to me ; and -vvken I had'come so far, I did not like to runaway. But. she1 will be here with the light directly, and then we shall heat what it is all about." "Perhaps we shan't, Master Tom," returned Dick. "I wish we were out of it, I do." At that moment a sound, like the click of a lock, was heard, and at the same instant the vertical- line of light cast upon the wall by the falling of the lamp-light upon it through the narrow space between the nearly closed door and the walV disappeared. Tom made a sudden movement towards the door, and found that it had been closed and locked on the outside. "We are locked in !" he exclaimed. "What a fool I have been." "I vearcd zummat of this zort, Master Tom," said Dick, in a dolorous tone. "Deary me, what will become of us?" Tom throw himself against the door, but it resisted his utmost efforts. "There must be a. window somewhere," said he, groping .along the wall. ".Mercy on us, what is that ?" exclaimed Dicky in a tone of such affright that it caused Tom to pause in his search. As they stood still, a sound like the creaking and grating of some rude machinery was dis- tinctly audible. "What can this mean?" said Tom, as he listened to the mysterious and portentous sounds. "I don't like it, Master Tom," observed Dick. "It makes me all of a shiver, like. And Snow- ball's teeth are chattering as if he had zeen a ghost." \, Tom resumed, ï in- a-Ifit/;of desperation, his search for a window, but in whatever direction he turned his hands encountered only the bare flat wall. f "Why, what dreadful mystery is this?" he ex- claimed, with a cold perspiration bursting out upon his forehead. "The door has disappeared, Dick, and there is no window 1" "It is all over with us, Master Tom," returned Dick. "We shall never get back to England again, but be cut into mincemeat by machinery, and then shipped away in a cask as preserved meat." ^?The creaking and grating continued while Dick indulged in these horrible forebodings, and îthen„ ceased; suddenly with a shock that nearly threw,the lads off their feet. Then all was still. "Where are we now, I wonder?" said our heror beginning to grope about him/ . '■"Oh;! don't ask,'Master : Tom," said Dick. 'ÎvWe arë in.à vault such as Sinbad was buried in, or,-perhaps, on -the edge of a ,well a hundred veet deep, f Don't move, Master Tom." Our herofrpioved cautiously, however, feeling his way Wi^hi his feet and* his extended hands, until'he came into contact with a damp wall, .which felt like earth or soft stone. It was clear, therefore, as he had suspected, that the; floor óf the room into which the Hindoo girl ;had/ushered them, had been lowered by ;6óme invisible;machinery, and that the creaking and ^ grating, which they had heard were pro- ducedv by the {mechanical, appliances by which vthe doscent had been effected. fi Tom communicated his discovery to his com- panions, and then pursued his groping progress round the sides of the vault. In doing so his hands came in contact with the chains by which the floor had been lowered,, and which had probably run over blocks, or some such contrivance, on the spring being re- leased by which the machinery was set in motion. - , Without pausing tq.exarmnc the chains,,Tom groped his way round rthe sides, of'./the т vault until he1 became convinced that , he had,,paced rpùnd the four walls. 'He could not discover .any outlet,4roinrthe- vault. "This is pleasant Î" ho. muttered, in, a tone of mingled irony and vexation. "Wo are entrapped like vermin. . And to think that I ßhould Ve such a fool as to walk into sucfra'trap!" "Many a trap has as vair a bait as this had, Master Tom," observed:Dick, But how to get out—that is what licks me."' :" Hark 1" said Snowball, wfrose quick ears had caught the sound of the* ^ tom-toms and - cymbals which they had heard as;" they stood before the house, but as if at a'greater distance. The lads listened,.and, all distinctly heard the sounds. Tom thought it strange;that these, spunds did not appear to come to them from a neighbouring ■street, as before, but to reach them through, the walls of the vault. This was a new mystery, and he proceeded to make an. endeavour to, solve it- by sounding the walls with his clenched, hand. After striking several" blows, without elicitinsGr any indication of aught than solidr earth' * ,behind the wall, he came to a part which/gave.,forth a hollow sound. 1 "щ ■■Here it was that the distant sounds*of native drums and cymbals were heard,most ^distinctly. Tom passed his hands oyer this., part of the wall, but could find nothing on the ; surface different to other parts. Only in çne place, just above his head, there was a depression of about, an,.inch in depth, such ás would be made by detaching, a portion of the plaster from the wall of a room. In an instant he had taken out his knife, am' ascertaining that the wall was really plastered, in this part at least, by inserting the point unde: what appeared to be plaster, ancídétaching.souv 24 8 BOYS OF ENGLAND. A) ! TL Î. 1чТ(г,] BOYS OF ENGLAND. 249 250 [APBÏL I, 187ft BOYS OF ENGLAND. few days after he showed himself in the school- room for half-an-hour, though he took no part in the lessons that were going on. An enthusiastic cheer greeted him, and Olympian Jove {Doctor Whaclilcy) descended from his throne to salute the King of the School. "I am delighted to see you here again, Egcrton," said he. *' It would have grieved me much had you lost your life in saving mine." "Sir, I only did what I hope and .believe any other of your pupils would have done," replied our hero. Professor Mocritz came up beaming at Egcrton through his spectacles, and shook him by the hand, muttering, "Zo glad, zo glad dat der Räuber—ze tief have not killed you. Goot poy." r, "Thank you, Doctor Moeritz. I am sorry wc did not catch this thief." There was one person in the school, and,not far from the head of it, too, who took no! share in these congratulations. Our readers will .have no difficulty in?guessing* that we alludeti During all the time Frank had been an invalid, this youth had bcennendeavouring to keep the chief seat in thc\form,',\but in vain. Charlie Fitzgerald and; the Earl of Pembridge studied to prevent him from so1 doing. Never before had the earl such an incentive^ to ' study. At length Frank ,E^erton fell into the accus- tomed routine ofÎ school life again, and his mother, having no longer an excuse for remain- ing with her darling, returned to London. She had not said a word to him about the pretty milliner, for she considered him still too weak to be worried. "I will speak to him when he comes home for the holidays/', she said , to herself, and so she left him. * Since the deatbÖf Frank's father and seizure of his property by Baynes, Senior, Baynes him- self had been very unpopular in Lexicon College. Few of the boys cared to speak to him, and those who did so condescend, were very соЫ and abrupt in their conversation. This was certainly very annoying. "Now," thought the bully, "now is the time to be revenged. He pretends to be quite re- covered, but I, don't think he is. I'll pick a quarrel with him, and'risk the results." But, as you must all be aware, when one boy studiously avoids another it is д difficult matter for either to disagree with, the other. Baynes saw this difficulty, and well knowing the chivalrous nature, of the King of the School, resolved upon a course of action.which he. well knew would excite Egerton's anger. For a Whole day the smaller try of .the college trembled when Baynes was seen approaching, or his vcice was heard. Freddy Webber ventured to remonstrate with tlie tyrant; 'but wan roughly told to mind his own business. "I am doing so," was the reply. "Then don't "interfere with me, or I shall be obliged tadick you.1* t ** Y^ouare a coward, Baynes. You know, you ai-e ,longer in/the arm? and stronger than I, therefore you say such; rude things. But Ave both, know, how to use a stick." '^VhaVsay you: shall we have a trial?" "With аЦ nry hçart." ":No," exclaimed Egcrton; who liad overheard the conversation ; ."flcave him to me,-for I know he is too. clever": for you,* Frqddy. Baynes, you are a cowardlytuilly to threaten ánd insult (hose who arc so much younger and smaller than уour- self. 1 You shall riot fight Webber; but if. you wish to have a boufc with thé sticks I will not disappoint yout" , . "Of course I will. Do you think Lam going to let you bully, mp. always 7 Under, the elm at four o'clock this afternoon, and take care of your sore heatf, for I fhit hard." -"Дэ hard as you like. - I shrill npf(play gently Д assUm ypu," 7 That4ay, after school ho^rs, a group of boys : rnighthave been seen under* the elm trees that formed one of the principal ornaments of tue : ï>by;field. In' the centre of the group stood Frank, Egcrton and his second, Charlie Fitzgerald ; facing them Baynes and Crawley. Presently the Earl of Pembridge made his appearance, attended by Harry, the waif Eger-! ton had picked up. Tho boy carried half-a- dozen sound ashen sticks with basket hilts. ¡ These he threw on the ground, and the seconds immediately began to select weapons for their j principals. Crawley made his selection for Baynes first, choosing a rather heavy stick. Fitzgerald, in looking out a weapon for Eger- ton, selected one possessing more pliability than the others, and handed it to him. V Thé" King of the-School,' after a critical ex- amination, signified his approval of it by a nod. *V\Both combatants;then tookloff their coats, rolled up their shirt-sleeves, ^ and placed them- selves ^opposite eachother. ".Quard I" exclaimed the earl,\who acted as referee. f t'The sticks cracked together as* the combatants assumed attitudes of defence. u{ "Commence," was the next word, and Baynes at once began to shower down his blows as rapidly as possible. He calculated on i the- reduction of strength' Frank had suffered'through:, his illness,> and' hoped to break through lus»guard. He had resolved; if -.possible, to strike on the old wound. The result would, probably,Vbe' death—or at least another long:and severe illness for Frank; but Baynes had gone on so: far-in sin that he was not inclined to stop air murder, especially as he knew the law well enough,to be aware that, legally, it would only be termed murder, It was not so easily done, though., Frank held up a good guard,iahd carefully protected his-head, withoutattcmpting to return the blows.1 "I must alter my tactics," thought Baynes, and immediately he began to direct alUhis at- tention to his opponent's body and ;legs, a mode of attack which he kept up for some time. Suddenly changing, however, he delivered a blow wlúch, had it taken, effect, would have entirely stoppcd: all poor Frank's fencing,'for it was directed at the scar left by the robber's pistol-bullet. Egerton felt it impossible to ward it off with his stick, so he raised his left hand, and received the stroke on his wrist. With such force was it delivered, that Frank's arm was nearly paralyzed. "I claim that as foul play !" said Crawley. "No," said the referee; "you ought to know that according to the rales wc formed last half, for regulating serious fights, it is-not foul play unless he holds'the stick." The combat then recommenced. In the second bout, Frank assumed the offensive, for he saw that his opponent was out of breath. He managed to get a blow home on: Bayncs's head, almost staggering that youth. - Fierce fighting was the order of the day, and it was evident that one or the other would get severely damaged. Scientific attitudes were neglected: ;/ the: com- batants only thought of hitting hard. Frank's blows began to tell. More than once he beat down Bayncs!s guard, and gave him severe visits on leg; body, and head. All this made Baynes more savage 'than ever. In proportion as his anger -increased his caution decreased. Frank Egerton noted it, and watched for an opportunity. At length it came. Crack, crack, crack 1 went the sticks, then/there was a-dull, heavy thud. Baynes, whose head had received the full force.of the blow,-grinned a ghastly grin, turned very pale, dropped his stick, and then fell to the ground. - "Egerton wins! Hurrah 1" burst from a dozen throats, and caps were thrown into the-air by delighted youngsters who had witnessed the defeat of their tyrant. "Ha, you haf kill Baynes vith ein Schlag mit dem Stocke," (a blow of a stick), said Professor, Moeritz, who had been surveying the scene, and had come forward as soon as he saw the van» quished youth fall. "Ich habe ihm nichts zu Leide gethan (I have not done him any harm)," replied Frank, who was learning to talk with the professor in the language of Vaterland. "Take him up," said the professor, addressing the bystanders. But some water having been sprinkled on Baynes's face he was able to rise and walk away, sorely-lamenting that ever he had been tempted to take up. the stick against Frank Egerton. Of.^course his friend Crawley accompanied him. ¿0HAPTEK XXII. NOBLE HORSEMANSHIP. FltOMUthe time, of-'ithéfcombat ;,we have just described a month passed away without any re- newal of open "hostilities * between JBaynes and Egerton. Not that Baynes had forgiven ^.no, his longing for revenge was stronger than ever, but circum- stances, »as we have already, seen,vhad > convinced him that he could not obtain! that gratification by his own right arm in fair.and ppen>coinbat; so he waited for an .opportunity^ striking some unseen blow. Heaven condescended to speak to Egerton on matters (connected with school discipline ; but, beyond.;that, there was no communication be- tween them. Doctor Wháeklcy saw all this with much grief, but it was :hardly,a case that called for his inter- ference. So each youth.went his. own way without in- terfering with the other. Frank, not having been forbidden by his mother, still continued to visit the pretty mil- liner, whose pale, cheeks-began tó, grow rosy again. ч > 'I daresay the four young people, Egcrton, Pembridge, Kate Conway, and Lizzie, used to talk a great deal of nonsense during their after- noon and evening walks; but this I know, they were supremely happy, although sometimes the poor girls would think, with something like dread, upon the many.obstacles that had to.bo overcome before they could be happily united to those they so truly loved. Frank and his friend did not spend all their leisure time in love making,1 however, but took a fair share in the boyish sports and pastimes of the school. The weather was now; getting arlittle too cold for. .cricket^ or boating, so foot-ball~and-papcr hare and hounds became the favourite sports. Earl Pembridge, Marsham, and oné or two of their friends took long rides in * the , country occasionally on horses which could be hired at some stables in, th e town. Of course th ere was no occasion ior , the- earl to hire horseflesh, , as ho possessed his- own. Arab steed. Frank i Egerton, the King of the School, sel- dom -took. part in these equestrian excursions. His finances were not in a sufircicntly. flourish- ing condition; for, although his ^mother* fre- quently sent him money, Frank rarely qmitted to return it, being well assured í;hat i^e;coüld ill afford to spare it. There was hardly a boy in .the \ schpofc vfb° would not have felt much pleasure, in .being/per- mitted to pay the horse hire for him.; but they knew that Frank was very proud, and. that such a proposition would have been, hurtful,,,to. his feelings. . ;j •• So Frank generally remained beHhd,ou such occasions, and either took -a ,walk*: with „Kate Conway, or had an interview with"the /le^ctive, who had attached himself to f tho. J peal,police force, but had hitherto failed;Ц,^}«соУег the perpetrators of the several 'rpbbcnes., at^Lexicon College. -''У'.:*-: £* '. Egerton had been made: aw/iro of • the.secret that, tho school and its inmates were watched, and was endeavouring to,,aid the detective m hunting down the scoundrels. From the circumstance that the villain who assaulted Doctor Vhackley in his study, and thcn.so nearly terminated our hero's existence, was a man who evidently could not have been an inmate of the college, the detective had been Atril i. Ï870.1 251 BOYS OF ENGLAND. induced gather io:relax'the vigilant* -watch be "bad'кépi1 oyer" Baynes, after' seeing- him beneath theT trees "Svitk Crawley ''holding something 'in his hand like *a bank-note. :" À careful examination .of. that; yoíing gentle- man's pockets and desk á - short"1 time afterwards ïesûltcd m the discovery of a letter, from which it appealed, that he actually had received five pounds from his father that very morning. Frank Egerton, though unable to say why, felt convinced'that Baynes, if not the thief, was a£ least дп accomplice, and,kept a very sharp eye npopiiiim. ■ "¡A.11 their watchings had been of no use, how- ever it seemed as though the thief would have the good fortune to escape detection. 'Baynes seemed to be tolerably free from duns. He was unable to go to his favourite billiard- ropms on account of the doctor^ strict orders to the 'contrary; and the big boys of the college, who. sometimes met at the hostelry known as 'thé'/«'Six Bells," had not enough of the true spirit of gambling in' them to make it very pleasant or profitable for him. Captain > Bobinson, so far as could be learnt, had left'the town; at all events nothing was seen of ;him.' To the; great surprise of every one, Baynes took to riding, and was, with his friend Crawley, frequently seen cantering across the open downs in the neighbourhood of Ballsbury. One thing, however^ was soon discovered, they did not get their1 steeds, at'the same place as the other boys —at^the;" Bed Длоп." ^Erq'ddy;W(èbber,'too, took to'the same kind of exércifcéVrthough in, a;mild way, for. he had first of ' jállfto master the rudiments of aiding, while ; ¿líe*others.,were tolerably practised horsemen. . To all this Doctor Whackley could not, and did not,fobject. <* Though ^anything but a " muscular Christian" himself, *»bei always encouraged his pupils in atHletic* sports of all kinds during the hours allott'cd tö1 recreation, and very much disliked to sec'f'boys reading when they ought to have been playing. ( "On^day/>vheii 3Iarsham, ithe ;Earl of Pcm- rbridge^;Charli'e.Fitzgerald, and one or two others, had gonq putfor their customary, canter, Freddy WQbberrapproached-the King of ;the School. :" , *«ï)on?t yóüt like-riding,, Egerton?" he asked. V'i^ery'much'indeed, Webber. IvThere is hardly : any thing 1*ПЫ better." :":„ "I tliinkjT;shalI like it ; but}-you know, I was never^n-aiiorsc'p;back till this half,-whereas • you, X dare .say/Jiavc' had a pony ever since you were toó heav^ to ride the house dog." if You> are. rigftt, ,Freddy. But as I can't see ',anyHprospoctiHö{ ibeing able to keep a horse for iom.e years, to iconic, 1 mean to give up riding; - ifc only makes mc long fqr what I cannot possess." But ybü cán^hire a: horse." "Yes—for «Бой ;à guinea. Really, Freddy, I ;;cah'not';affór observed Freddy, who could not resist'the temptation to make a bad pun. "She is certainly a vicious-looking brute." At this moment Baynes, who was some little distance away, spoke ostensibly to the ostler by whose side he was standing, but evidently with the intention that his words should be heard by. every one present. ■: "Pretty fellows to go out for: a!ride 1" he ex- claimed, in a sneering-manner. r.fí:They . are afraid to mount the . marc because, :sHe .happens to be a little bit skittish." '.'>. * "I must; show them that I am ■ not-afraid,*', whispered Frank. "Keep her steady a moment, | my man." During a momentary pause in > the antics her ladyship had been indulging in, Egerton lightly vaulted into the saddle. "Let go 1" he shouted, to the groom, At .the same time gathering up the reins. The groom instantly released1 his hold of the bridle, and Bröwn Bess -commenced a series of the most extraordinary kicks and leaps. Frank kept his seat well, and soon convinced the mad animal that he was not to be trifled with. After riding her two or three times round-the yard, she became tolerably quiet, and * then Freddy, who was mounted on a very quiet and rather ancient steed, led the way out into the street. A restless twitching of the ears convinced the ■ rider of Brown Bess that she would require vçry careful riding. Two or three streets Avere traversed safely, and Frank began to fancy that the'animal was not quite so mad as was generally believed. The market-place was at length reached. A drove of pigs being conducted- to the slaughter-house (the market was nearly over) attracted the mare's attention ; but she showed no signs of fear till one of them¿ having felt the lash of the drover's whip, set up a loud squeal- ing. Brown Bess immediately managed to get the bit between her teeth, and began to leap over the railings which divided the Various cattle-pens in the market place. The few people about hastily got out of the way, and Frank finding he could not control the mare began to think of throwing himself off, : But the;- flagstones ;witb which-* the market place was paved"lookedWhard an\l*uninviting that he insisted the temptation. "What can the beast mean to do?" thought Frank, as Brown-Bess,made straight for the open, portals of the town-hall which graced one side of the market place, while Freddy on his Rosi- nante, yelled to the people to help to stop it, The intention of the animal was soon evident.. • She would take refuge from, the squalling,, grunting tribe in the justice room." v - ч '■ Well it was for the beadle that he fled from,* his post, and.took refuge in the neighbouring hostelry, known; as>thc í'Wheatshcaf," foEhad Brown Bess come in contact with him, "as" she- dashed beneath the portico; his ¡ portly carcass would have received many a dire bruise, .even if, haply, no bones had been broken. Frank, to tell the'truth,-began to grow alarmed, as he found his steed wildly careering through the entrance of the town-ball* and up the broad stone staircase-that led to the offices of the corporation. He began to calculate the chances .of broken, limbs; and the thought ' swiftly ilashed through his mind that Baynes-had* persuadedi the stable- keeper to mount him on this mad animal in the hopes that a broken limb might be the result. AH things must have an end, however. Bess, on arriving at the top of 'the-grand staircase, stopped so suddenly that'our-hero nearly went flying over her> head. By a great effort, however, he managed to keep- his scat. Had either of the office doors been open; the chances are that the mare would have centered one or other of the rooms- , , \, ;' As it was, she half turned-her: head, and seeing- thet difficulties of the position to which* she had brought herself, began to tremble violently. A slight relaxation of the jaws^enabled Frank, .once more to get a firm pull ön the bit. "She has brought me up here, she :shall carry me down," said he, to himself. A gentle pull at the near rein, and she turned as carefully and quietly as possible, still slightly trembling. It was necessary to give5-her the-slightest possible1 touch .with the-heel to induce her ta commence the descent; then she began to pick her-way down ;the stone steps as gingerly as a farmer's, wife treading among.new-laid eggs. ! He reached tthe door, and was greeted with a tcuific cheer* from the people who had assembled to witness1 the;denouément öf; this strange per* formance. The noise was listened to with: the-greatest calmnoss by Bess, who seemed in the îperpe- tration of that one wild4freak to-have com- pletely changed her nature. Disregarding the cries of the beadle, who emerged from his retreat, and shouted to our hero to surrender* himself ¡to his custody for contempt of the corporation,1'Frank trotted quietly away, and rejoined" Freddy Webber, who was waiting on 'the* other - side of-:the market- place, -expecting each moment to » see- his friend appear, either , flying through/ one of the upper windows or borne out on a shutter. • His -delight when he saw Frank quietly riding towards him unharmed'can be better imagined than1 described. "For Heaven's sake,, let us get back to the stables/' he said, as soon as the first, congratula- tions were over. "Why go back ?" asked Frank. "To leave .that horrid brute with her owner." "I came out for a ride, freddy, and I mean to have a ride. Come along." "No, no; not on that beast." "Yes, on this beast, as you rudely call ber. She is. a splendid animal, and' when, we get out on Oddman's'Downs you shall see how she. can Arid, despite all Freddy's entreaties to' the contrary, Frank trotted oft through, the streets and soon gained the large open space he had alluded to. Looking round; he saw Freddy coming along at as good a canter as he could scicw out of his somewhat antiquated specimen of a horse. '*• Freddy, you sec" those three fir trees yonder?" he asked, as soon as his companion came up. (To be continued." Commenced hï No. ICG.) 2Л2 [AfUlt I. lf*T#, BOYS OF ENGLAND. A STRANGE CAREER; on, nm nm<;kk\s victim. OIÏAPTKU 1 HE LAST.—(<ч»,1',юш1\ VT it wa> iiot ïa'^a-ary 10 b- ■ > loraj"; fbr, r.v^j. y.-o ai bis ci lo adopt il, агн! f<< pi ve them th<* mowy bh<' had Tkcnv*<.\ frcm Poadha The tramp? euK'Tly raucht at the it loo. ши,1 pr-nb^î faithfully that the ebiid bbould bo carefully tended, awb be 1 runted as th.-ir uwo, 1 1к*y eave their mime Я** Annitapc, пЫ their oddruw, duri?*^ the wítder ш'шШч, íis Shire tame. Temple llar ; üv' >*am:uer they p,a>*eb in in nj , pieket, Ы« ifelebtO'h i a .I 1оП£Г debwi'dp îîl Í be raids! oí wbîeh he »tiatoak u hath of one of lr¡s own drep^ fr,i га}»*, and havítip the money r rovinjr through the com:try. \n* had received from Р"жП< 1 «h* hH р<.«ф th.- гЫМ fremwdly afterwards and .«atístíod hetvdf thai, íliuaf beer¡ well t rtaitod: ind< <*d, nía* had н.-еи It as bdely a* fuur yca^ baek, w,(.tí .¿fu r wabeb fin* Aneiíapvs died, and .-he had lost siirht of it, Wîe»n she returned it, Pendbbta ми, found the Ьоая- in an aproar. I The poor ycunp mother had. discovered the loss w::<', of ii'-r <'ihl'!, »iah «Pendle's refusal to call in for the p'dhv» t«i î^::ir*"h for it, bad accused Mm of j mnrd^nne ?t for purposes of bis own, and, as Maria eafend, wii- struggling violently to es» aap« ír<-m the house. P а е«арм "a b ¡üi: :,m! I рГ" aaí»b* !h,4i wb. ■ ni ;i draught Oí" It boar. Mítl'í,4, affer: remanded to r fun i и -, r evidente. ( )sear, <ч asidero measure ям ved ( í IV red <»< beoome ívííi*,!. !bb.v < Ht ]w;r arriva! ¡a ib- pr'í.-'; ;:/'\''м"»мг a,!!} al] liait tsr Í |*;iKÄtul umícíí Iici cugíá- :. ;-aiíí"<: dtiviп>/ 1 ï<*r rí->;- /irtMv V, 'nh P< :."'.^ c-xtribct only, as it C'.'íl- 4'tT!;:,. i! J.nilií'!'; >'f i'¡i.i't, >л «,* -J:!í ; I ;j; V'*. ? íí4'\ í- -Ü1- ¡y, л < Icniinü !'-m:iií, <Л" 11 и' líüibc ;S \'- ;','«'< I Ji iHíH'Jl' íí. :t poUtieíd íütrkaic th;;i. \v;i.' m to íдíí, mu," >-Vrr ¡II ICnglítíHl, 1" wtii'M! he hwl v^'VM»iiMy puTS. <>í his iurímu;. Uh' i»Vf«f теп!; of which iiс hri'i ¡'«!arí'<| in î ¡a; hiiit'lH of Pcií-ih'. Ii»* т,чгги*<1, a¡¡f] ,4 . b'Wí'VtT» a1i:u'k«-d îii< r-jjuí boaa-, í!u- }»:if«TK .ЧмЬ'Ь, afi'l ba laíns^lí' s<. fíiuch Ы- j«av»í that íí". c»x{otvd à f«*w b^ucs aíí"r, • Pfiff}'!,'* ihm tin. I Nix months aff rTwar.'ls iv-ndk : be 5 • mnv w ¡iba-, îh <"<ча rari a Willi him. aiai >íaaa 1} ;¡íií hlh' =и.' !/,ии,- to rv'sifb', ^Ь»' wa>: iiíH:t»iíH4«iíis that flu« паптаиа"' *.va- î sham. A S'">v '.b,w ;.ft, » it|.r ¡n-riva' ib-i bbk a al ^am ':;aa«-b М.иаа» и\и\ч plaaliig a. iiltv-a*-tab a«^h; ц bai î'.'uvi. hade hi-i í¡Af lía- «aábl ;r,v:iy aa¡ :;..<>'Л ï '-a- Tlíaaw-s. ta' a-^lr-'У 1 him, l\ arïiû *'>( rí'P.isinu', ;Ьй» to^k tba cbbb fnan ¡ lh»- ):ouS'', artd ргоса»"'Ьч1 aa far a-s fî r*';iï t" «i-, wüí. ■ it. ^ i Tîif riba,! wa> about Iwaha-iaonf Ь>- <*M, aîal ifs ■ <'í)^ajíia: <4i¡s¡il i*} have ро*И'К**н? bt'far''bt-foiniog iîai victim of ГогнПо, us to «et that active lawyer u.r> work; and, <'ir Ihr ymial b^pil belays—an <-x- ;iiiiinaf|on of PanbleV f>iip>*т^а e- sum of т-г • v thai wa> А'лпйги^ to the credit of the сЬмжан-Ь* De Ituyter in tiat S.xmk. At thf, ка-nral exaniinatioii, of Atari a, no pro- 5ooiifor ap(r«*,ar»: > , sin- wa> siba.t' b¡- hail re.îjder<'d < b-^y; >>> sh»i wa*- dÍ4."] Ь«г ''^ЬлаЬтаЬЬ: Ь■ íiarfЬ M' tîa.<\ :(j^î г|и%а, v.ab a, -,-biaar'.' nf ,\î;;j'ia, rarr:<''l i ht о» а ги>'.»^Ь 4í»(-<:b'iS'.y рг'рь-ооЬ Ьа h :ül,j f;äy b. r ira- wall. 'П:"Г«'- >íi*" Ь;н1 roñaba-i fur у. ars, a'ai'b p]4.bai.;y bav< i.<-| í b-r<*.* haù ha rhu «v!b¡ t ;* ; : 1 a<>b. а'.-и-» afîrr < / -Ь a nf 7*ah< h<- i,- « í - ' v -1 ï * a'.'ic'î !y ab t"Vb•!«■,]к i- ín-i ù ¡Kt-K for bf in bi'va-н fbaí ía í? 1 j-í 1 .haî-jaía- la !y a-pahi f,a il.m.г :bw.iy- р! <у the piano badly, did not make a real 'bull, nor (];a r|i;if ,,\ \ er lab\, « '■" «;<'!'.!!'.• ;ifor aa апрЬм^f it 1 ■ чрр.-;,гат«<-.' of ■ Í М'гч. liuvh-r. hain and ча;Ь! r.Hjbd iU îa-<*k î;aois \\4imm, aiaî ;t 'î t * Ь b/^, wîai Ь w-, *f« пч f h»ar way to 'b«» K",ai i-a a atib a< p.■« a a í nba of haï î-, bab. îb«« %\ :t>a 'î aa ib*'apht ta» a oc* um d to b ? • ч tana,-, i their >h<' fur: bar >4at»'b î a a! sha b oiby f aar, ib* аиаиа bu« fr >n\ l!a' Ca^y,tuat she *,v;ts tb¡o ¡ta íiíiií 1 bai sha had ia h. «ah !ô' kai fiad, îh- ' bil! b;-a a: Í la'* î haa rbto Iv-jL il Iba îpa-a fa-anap üú¿, <ь,опг r.,-pr«.a*'h«'d him««'lf with having ai }$н b,ap;: iraa-^ forportrai tîm nn- Xurtuiâiile he had been ittcLcumeiitiH ía rt^«ao"ag, iaara'd.h-if.hy dr./а<: «ai Ь^ î a<* wí-rkína,^'* to Ш'.рпге. hito bar ^lalo, T<» bis dí-íipat ¡¿(i foaad î lad care a ad at tan- Но?! had rad \,vcu b'tfùWinl in vain ; that though, bar iiiind was Ktill <'doud<'d? nho had \:ы]у i di- proved, aadtbaí ía a îvw werkn the piiy,-,í(aaa> hojH^l to «ее h*T menfa! und bodily c<»nsi ttuíî->ti 5» a praat Jiitatsura rtatoaaal. This hop»» wa;-' aoi íabaa,H. By dativos hör iatolb-rf returned, ала! fhey !.V' П' ''.«¡aba-d to- anpid to ia-r a kiaavh-daa tha'l happy da,yg \v*;a'a y •. "J îa r; and, v.iiob at ia.M, 11 о• d.'.,vùi:..l ia- bari; a- tnok pïaae, and fb hb*,^ *,p;da;;;.p -.f a"¡l'-' "V 4'м:а 'Л-и-'О 5i.:i á<-o;: ;(îv ko! - • "i* r.-'i ï«y ii-'iïjy pvyh, th' h» '4 ЬгЬ íÍ\;tt ^.vim < .Oid ;ío> «',.y|,^j -a^ait o-,- rhrí r.;iiah." ,( k* Wü a yoii do aar ,( ib^-nr >,:ivrt yoaap 'Ьчр-к,-. _ a.» Ids vo-ihay í.-i-ad. л.апиа" îI;hs,-»..î; . "Wbut iá íí, Gaurgc?"* аауь Дапйош. ♦«! vvisk you to* baoi aie a haado'b dnb;ii^ , :.¡ha'" "'(';Ь! -í,f /¡-; ""aaîior;di')a,4ah' í-oj,.ine-d Н;,а;чаа. ^а-пгро aot lona ía payinp hi;- r^pi-et;.-, *' What eerit.y lean yon pivt- aie, y«aa¡p avatlaraaa?" *' Mv owe 'p'.To>aal so.-eriiy.'-aa*" *"\hay wihb Wd ia Ь'О-.' очуа Наа.^-г.ч, bftaaa ua tla**b*d »b' a i irpr- ío-л chest. *• Gel in there Г axcbiiaa«! «h^rge. in u-- aao'-haiaait. Wbra ba ^ 'Why, -hi, ¡,s t!' pi'to<. wh'a*- I ;ba;;\ b<"'p a;y .--t».- ; : r; t lr "Win, d«'ar aie,"-Mr. boaa*o\;dioasaid a jroo' tha aaai replied a-*" ¡ bei uaidon, uutdaut", h-»{ чр.,а up hoiuiur ïw,a-> t" i:ard ,1 couldn't bhta h <>Ü'.'; BOYS OF ENGLAND. 253 fef Iii prwnih4f ihir, Г;ш- louvT rr:#rs it iaordybir : о. ал a ni »o k»ky a: 'i И;, а.кашаа; „f Ьт-< if ful', \ Ч ilat ,v»- do uut wUh to i »м i» mT -V an bv a io<*. í;.0'„, r tn-d ; » -or, mm :•• kho, '\ 'in 'Svví : *Vi'hiyy> în th«« «Дч?;«.ч> -Л ouiU'iiij/l tthich íok ,\Nod I : *í к a ka i. 1¡ oaon, Voz tà.ly Tííí; BUFFALO BILL» KiMi иг пи-; гп?in,n:r: ( iiAî'Tliit X. 'voto a Mckenin}! fid ;v; ThR, who кл-pí. urging Ыл ¡nírty It? ;ïî* most speed, ** They're bit two î!i;;it wouid iûUuw," sait! Le, ''and v.íaa, k< y Vf h.id ;irno íkr a k< о od th^'i^iii, ka-y'li m>t, ï**uv-î tb- M',bf-r w*om»-n ^ IH vb;i!. b-k "'('in îiafk PO outt к Îofî »dpjkit Now if it !лко Tin at bwt k»YO f!;iV4 R» drívtí to ùto Pi:ttkmtsn(.,s ;»nd a Ml dav if Lkoy got uwn aud "taii ri^hî, baók, brîoft.' 'ihcy can by iîluu.t'i- pi", our t rud, Aud lba} ;i ji,.>í|;w;.¡lHl bra vi* W'ÎÏI jUlílp »>n, fba Lr Ьио.ч- oL the tOili • f il.'1 Ihayb - Hvf of the 11 í\U, H« a Ы, кошГй ail î: ;ooî оно! R o^aRo», !1 онl ;t й'/д \%vA o«?l a -' ',>: TV î ÍM' UOtíO*' V,/,]>,.' ÎH' -ui'l. ÎU O i'',,î íiíiíf kiüd. A:--tu yotir »'Vt.r î-iî'/и^.чу О'Л", i:í«- u.'vv, ó.(f)'r, îbo»k :î. í \ ru ;- :П ум-,;, j/.f IíjÍ; ;uhÍ M'Hii - }OH o--f»H\' a¡¿< ttik'f -'.oa'íú 'ifb'ry ;;t ¡hy«»í;, or i:.».oo g..4 juu O*- .••«{ fГО:ц wb'U;'; i'v" tiik«;!' \ зоо*]'1 oo ;ui,-v, "Г. M,*" V, ¡iH Wm!; iili'l *л«;;!Гу. о'"у -.vn.- ¡r,.i. "<:''; ;0 oí ;î.;î j,î>; !j ,ro. V.--M )•;.; I/ t'o* oj-oo. -b- .o-"/ '- - <-4 .„ t,/; л" ' o¡,.,,ji!i , » »-i ю-» ину„-ос 'i!. ! <• N yo HuW ¿mií;/ >;•-' -j'Ow'o?' ■<* -i,' *, 4í,"»v. ЬиГ УУ;;.' w:í,- wokcb»'ó i y !;;<• ,-*on,.l oí r:>:.:!oj '.o;OT,t ,Ои1. !-rc fíírilií'.y O !íV<;r. broud, hv.l :*Luíí"^f ООО (uä "£ i y» i ! •< «w-t *í "Ví'r*: ..yik? ►íOu thob'u;/.:,. «vLot o o; * * • ""yo, ,ot*I !:!:¡,.i" ;' ,У.' е expressing hi : ,í ос o to!' ;o;;, :-™Í4.íy ;hr ;( ;o:if Ií,- o,¡yi ?},,,;« s',,, ,( (| II:. o oí íIií.-Ih-í |m- Го.-, !'< !' b. "o a ii,ok r.üi 'Oi!:t ootior again and aga trange ¡ileasi 0O¡ O Hl'íll A¡ fo ÍH o i lo- Il flit,: v,.j,íO,^ thítí «vt-r o:oUovo 'J ом o!hk-r, if ••},<• o«y- 1 oaií t;iii«' l.í.4 iH;.H'of** }to nio.iít'óíd to* himsfof. *• And if Ï rnn icad fyt'iO tka.1 íi vvliu', : he :oooii.Or i. *. î ; j » - -ao it,,t* ;o г ,-uoo o,,,-1 o - «imiihif lo work, чт! tío, :or oí <1о-|мн<.|о«юу wínoli ,4so lr.itt h*eo Wo,0/O0i I ■*o».¡ y Tur «ioi i;t..t yo;,»*!rolo tho cono-, bnt ftnfioo,!' };,;,! /b; '.v,»,^ í::oio cín.45roi!7 hihí ít ndb.vr |4«'»**iHd «оно, too ho Kud f«'ftivd in io,o d"' yor.Ui. n :r\ to, tu o- ií'-r oví, L''< . Thrir ToiTíA nowtcTorîori moro to rho ní?rth: tn.t kader \usood to üí.riLu И;- Hniüh i'hif,;, mi,' ы1Уо'.- у щ> о, rio' ivyonn wííUr,,, l#j> f,-;„.í„I-, were \\'!,oíí alyht, х'л;цц on, ч íi;dl wart im4ü.'-U Ulld ;o¡íUsaí> Lo Ки iiOMÍ ;tod i'tot ■O Uli HK'V.-.i oí, и,*,,-,; У Kr;ird: í^mrk. таг^п-, (¡ yv Li!!i«:,A-у1нпоо.ч, I.u.l 0,,ulr Л ООО! .ot'OAJ.L-; К) <;f,« ,\ WfiO{ WÍth hör; bot 'v. '|'!0У voo!" ' ¡i") лсоinf;d »lr:r.n: ;íO;¡v, în-ob,' a ¿dyu ;M ií olu- was wríüujr, .md 'Frmk voo-oí ií Iiy ¡ni yrfiyio'oujdnyr O^.hJ >no:, wiibtti t w«-tt l"> i of thl- \v:\-xï-a -oyi'u. ;oï I y;v--yo;s |,< гьо>лаоо a'íd I'll yi;í ok r,i.'/od hoirs if: y>nr ouv.om with ^"«Hvio, Now tu too r.-иг and ^ray th-ro !i: ^•tîtrît w:t? r¡n coward, but fhwv ^\;o- sooie! Itîîor ïïi ove }u,ii th«:n vdook î,oM h:m tbiit ;olofice •'d oÍh^í^..)^. wmîo»! ко |,/,!ц,|о îf Ti«,-Üiboy oyov. • s". with kit; a îo:'!i îoooy to иоо h- f' H i'd pOOl l.kiío tboiiyiii, tbífct I JUve Tutt rodo ioiok, cursiioo чл fuîîy. Tîî« fo:;r Ьоонам ahoiwi of tiio wa-^yon }4?iooooî tvârfwUy. Tko î r^iolieroa".- yîuk-k«4t;d WiwLia^ frutn uuder t-koir ï>:. о-Г'Ок' o' i'üoíía 1 "í'ho V/H;.íp«íl ítwlt" b.'.'Uh VÍHblv li> M'tUv uno doopio- i;: ibe notvr. In vain ib»- driver, o.oostfd by Tati, око la.ditd t.ko hoioo. aioií h ;-^!0',ч1 as if tkoy mti^t 1оо,,к >'o a: lb 'oiïi'o-, ;--'í t; iani. I y.«vv ho t'>,kv\Lkía: tai id-* «»'.wi yo«worfц! hoo^aa ¡ ;ual o„í11ü<1 tiyu I'Vaiík, .Угчгк .oa«,l <«ílvr~ to got the "Ьо]к'^- шкп to tläo iaod in Üic г*Д-»о м-.чу, , ^ 'l ;.o i.ao-.' W;o íí,, a Clk. Ч-aa. ;ya to too 'i о '.M Ovo окая lia,; royyrh roaaf/Víii %v:i- i тпЫа, oiia¿ wound bkd exLcrnaJiy aíruak. and blood com- i:: ' íroio ka- ;«*.•'it!i niudc ní:iit«:r« appear cvcIj yol , \>.,a¡4i ka* kim. j Л uuíit \vü • now írnoí i-atívc. 1 kiork yoai«o.4*d tr.4t the whole poiîy nboiko' Cíi!i!|»f 5 urow np a oott«,>íi-\ví,K)d stock- ad<<. oía! tx: rtoaiy to îi^kt II out к" , . . til- ;r уиглисгл oíooo пр. Т v> I, îof oioa will never kícoeri toy 'y -; ■ old h:ud*:t while life is in him !" he Hik'.k 11 The ooiooel ha* boon trucas st' ' 11 î'f n?a aad we* г о v\of vi tkaa t:ow,u''h if \v<; tifiar: him," Thié was kaaky apyiaatb'.'d by Ä€ ; mon, ;iTid Опте l'iitt, who, in hi? own UttoГ л- kikna-p. woi(hl h;*/»; ydaoí}" ; the la la*' .-к к- hh/t. did îioi .aow kor,? Lo yo yo a- tho aa-aotro. ] J ka I h.o did :!'•! -iko fo î'oîoaiki f'oef© ev< а иг,- и Aiorl Uni-, ho* be dfoadok t, i o fan,oat! of tao t fíkak wo'd koft^r TTiako a soaa! haré íiokl oo cao nov our - yo.oo; the to< np i WÏV; воше irîft wo ka oaf, w kd a. ,y,aba Aud. ¡ :m aal aad - hatchet as wé a, j.h"!Jí wh< So. tkaak ; * h;0 oaa viva a;o¡ oa! РокХклп' of ил Vi-; 'ï\:tî\ d OUÏ laaoi ow. *bni. kd T?iî t, sa î о ч,ч . ,-avao»,; июа,.,оу í r>, aao Ovt-; k' ^ь'. :*ьо kai a; < Í >, o'M'rO , luo OO.u/n tif 4 ho: 4'гааас1? aad }!,>'.o.î U) o-,- -аааа'Ььо/ f , h-',-, Tutt l'aao/d као^*},|:»,оо- Ьамк 'd" ï bv :;w; >,t o.,o|y (.„tvoaibd oou!ddo!,oyo: iko vos ,■•■„-,.j. îlioai-îa i v-r î h'- уаа-ч -,o a' oai a,oo, !'аош dî'a"1 lîo'ouah d<-0- k\o'v .'" íi'-o''-к Ь:о^о !o î к a* driver, and lia lai ko*, «-boyi'oy. arao'd îi;<- ,,n. Un: я boavy birch '»f ka; wayo'¡,n whiie d wn« lu th.- o»,« yr? < yak 1' id *''¡vo лН\ u by 11? rídr <,/a ff od krrr ihn j¿-;if гни, of kfio way. 'I-can ''' a;kd flava, íeonaou^l?. Wf» oao't ч i Ford to hi,~a a, ,-kok ■ rkaa when ;oioh tmm as VViiáBffl and rka га-it-- aro a.f'ior tba And v dfidt kia,or what mmtitu tboy may heave in 'daihk Atf to Üio fííii, hko*oaa ко kid, ro/ht k'-ro—ja;i -»a «ли,; of í aaoj i^jaraia '.?h,ore ЛЬ»{ oaidt ofd.> away a fa I, odaoo íadlots won't it'll Isar in tf,,- fsylïk -'Old VvhtOi W,. 4a: whijiy*-d oôoînv Oovo aaai yo a))o¡ ÍVíoÍi bo?- and too- la«r o,it io the hilj.v' bavo T:iV culd oavo kikail Ггапк klaiki with ,k whd!-- îdîk «'a- Ihíí«< .'»'«d, 1к'чок и'1/uíd .»wvur - i:ao.da-a! bm s,yoe.,do H-ak о bd't- fa'O- иог«. ч '^b.k.la sodio ая }a: {yield a, !о •Л < О: 'аа- i-; к oíy:o к.,. ,Мг '■у к >íf,ova ^ í ao aaov .aoovk cotoïtel hem asked Ук.ак. yoa ,'i''.'îo-w *ff i- íka loi i,* j:; "П.- ¡kdydkokd Foo'iîi, cooko. laa-'d oí o-, ía !y, ш> !^"а\, h.wkaia'í iho yo! ix '« ano uíí. yw •• w ;.i,o í, ,,. , y , Vi.! ",\ o — 'OÍ aoí r 'o„¡ à av- io now. - Г h'k а. я 'ao oarotoo Л ijj'J о ач - 254 ГА*И1Ь I, 1870. BOYS OF'ENGLAND. ""Devil, I'll cut your heart out for this," cried Dave, .no longer able to restrain himself. "Wait till I get this party to the Black Hills, and I'll give you the best chance you ever, had," said Frank, who, encouraged every instant by the ap- proving eyes of Lühe, began to feel every inch, a hero. , *¡ It may be a long time, but curse you, I will wait. And now build your camp and its defences. I suppose your captainship has no objection to my taking the young lady in whom you seem, to take so much interest over to one of the islands. I can shoot as well from an island if our enemies try to cross as from here." "The young lady will be quite as safe inside of the Btockade as on an island under your gentle care," said Frank, .urged by an appealing glance from her eyes to prevent the plan which Dave, now laid to have her alone in his power. The companionship of rpifianä was moro safe than solitude .with him. "Well, have everything your own way now. But remember, Frank Stark, when we get to the hills, it is you or.гас,,and with knives." "All"right, Dave Tutt, I'm your man then, but mow-we've got work to do." CHAPTE&tXI. All night long,, without a thought of sleep or even a sign,of fatigué, Buffalo ЗШ* and bis mate rode around, gathering men and making preparations for the expedition,in search of his lost sister. By sunrise* they were all assembled. Kot two dressed or armed alike;, some mounted on noble thörougli-breds, others on hardy, wild-eyed mustangs;, some'young and slender; others tall. weather-bron¿ed, all bone and muscle—they looked like true fighting-men. There was a slight pause after these men, some thirty in number, were ranged in Иде ready to take column of march- It was when Bill's mother and sister stepped forward to say, good-bye. "Heaven bless and aid you and your friends, my •dear boy," said the.'good Christian ^mother. "A mother's prayers and ,hopes, go witb you." "Anda sister's, too,: dear, brother," said Lottie, •tears,in hcr; eyes as she.ppoke.r; "And JCitty^Muldoonißayßit^e good;Диск be wid yez all, aridfbad luck; to*the devU's born that's got Miss Lilliei wid-'em. . Bring pne.ihome wid ye jist, so I may , scratch the eyes out of his ugly head." A shout of laughter followed this outburst from Kitty, and, before it fairly subsided, puffaio Bill, who had-a, good deal of the soldier in him, sang •out— "By fours! column right,-and forward at a trott"' The red men of the plains dread such men. They knew by many a sudden onslaught, many a brief, wild fight, how'bo rdernicn fight. Away at«a sweeping trot, changing to a walk only when they ascended some steep pitch, and frequently a gallop as they went down* It was-almost night-when they reached the old fort, but them was plenty of light and time left before darkness .to examine the unburied bodies of whites and Indians. That of Jake M'Kandlas could not be found. "He either is not dead¿ or else they have carried his body along to bury it," said Buffalo Bill. * 11 They've got a waggon; here's the tracks," cried Wild Bill, whose eye had been more on signs than •on the bodies. "There.was one in the old barn," said Bill. . "And here's more, mate; she, your sister, is with them. Look at that track," cried Wild Bill, as he sprang from-Black Nell, and examined a small foot- print in the soil. , "Yes, yes, it was. her foot did that" cried the brother. "Look for the track of Dave Tutt's horse further on, Bill.",: "I've found it-.rfght; here/ cried Wild Bill. "We're on the right track - now, and it is only a matter of time to get to" 'em. We've "got to reach *em carefuly or they, may kill poor Miss Lillie for spite. Jake M'Kandlas, if he Î3 alive, is mean enough for that,, and I don't believe Dave Tutt is -a bit better." "Yes," said Buffalo Bill, "we must \>Q fast and •careful, toó», Loosen girths, boys, and feed your horses. There's corn and oats in the old • barn. We'll all get a bite, .and rest for two hours, and then go ahead by moonlight- The waggon trail will be ♦easy to follow in the grase or over the sand." The men now put their horses *out to feed, and then went to getting supper, while the two Bills, for the .first time in sixty hours, dropped on the ground to get a little sleep before starting again. CHAPTER ДН. With no tools but their camp-axes and tomahawks, the men under Frank Stark built for themselves a really formidable stockade. Near the stockade, and completely tinder rifle cover^ was a corral of stakes, into which the stocks could be driven at night, or on the approach of danger. These arrangements showed that Frank Stark was capable, to say the least, of taking the com- mand. Dave had assisted in the work, but took particular pains never to go out of sight of Lillie. Frank determined to have an unobserved interview with her, and to effect it, called off a regular stock and picket-guard for the night, assigning to each man a special post. That furthest from the "stockade—and it was a six-hour watch—was given to Dave Tutt. The night set in not quite as clear as on the preceding one, for floating clouds frequently swept athwart the sky and shut out the moonlight. Now Frank Stark determined if possible to find out how Lillie regarded him, and if, as he hoped, his conduct in regard to Dave Tutt had pleased her, to avow something more than a mere interest in her. Approaching the separate apartment which he had built for her, and, seeing her "seated near the door on an improvised bench he had himself made for her use, he asked, in - sound reaching the ears of the bordermen as they approached the rjiver on their third nighV out, r put them at once on their guard. There had been no fires lighted by the M'Kandlas party atmight,- but they.could not keep their animals, still. 'i W , When- this: sound was- heardr the party'at' once ■came to a halt, and.dismounted, while >B£iffàlp?iBHl and. his mate rode on to reconnoitre . . .. They left orders.ior-their party not to'4 move 'till they returned, without they heard fir in g^,and if they did, then to hurry in and take a share in what might be going on. The two •.bordermen^ rode* 'swiftlyon - to wards the river, during a brief-time of comparative* darkness, while a cloud bank obsciired the moon, then; as the clouds moved by,' they dropped' -with their' iwell- trained horses-to' the earth,'- for with the coming light they saw that they wero^very neanthe itivcr.- It \yas well, for them to do so,ior when the moon came out clearly, they .distinctly saw the stockado looming.up,on the other, side of the river.. What-it meant they could not understand*' Ардш 1,3S70.) 255 BOYS* of ^engiîand: \Vhy a party like that of which they were in pur- suit should halt and fortify a defensive position, "Was something they could not comprehend. ¡ Buffalo BUL was the first to speak.. "That's, a fort—and by the way it rises ,from the "bankv a .pretty strong one I'm thinking," said he. ".Yes : the river*,. Shortly after he: saw quite a, log- of drift wood moving ßipwly down the current, but, .as it.reared, the other shore rvery fast while it went; down, he comprehended the plan ,of Buffalo Bill to get across unobserved, if they were on watch-in the stockade, When ,/the log stranded. near a steep, bush- crowned bank on the other side of the. river,4 he knew that, his friend was safely on the other side, and that now the most dangerous part .of - his. work was* to be .done.;. . Anxiously .he ..-watched', the stockade.; hardly breathing, aloud, lest «he should, lose .a..eouud,--.;he looked V ancLlistened f lor - some, ¿tc-кеш iroro, ¡ Bnffalo. Bill,,.. .j„: ,: A full hour passed in this way. He began-to glance; often toward, the east^ foe he>knew.that> thà dawn could, not be far .off; i v, lf What cáü.Billvbei about?"Ы, muttered;о i'He. has i .had .time t ,to. scout all around /there, ancL get doing t nothing ï a bit. \[ But, ;he'd , make^ a npiçe,. if they'd^got him/ I can't make, it but. Ah i ./there's the log in the stream again. Ho is coming ablast, CHAMER XrV. In „the-.setüement -.where Mrs. Cody, Lottie, and Kitty, Muldoen were, left for ^protection, thero-was muccuanxiety. after, the departure of so many iof the-ment with Buffalo Bill. For it was too near two borders, ( the Missouri and; Indian, to be con- sidered safe,-if, all the fearful murders regarding rebellion and^varwero true which, had .been reach- ing, theni through various sources for .weeks.. In: truth there were not ten mcn capahle of bear^ in g arms left in the. place, though there were full a hundred women and children. The widow and her daughter were.;quartered at the small and only tavern, in f the ; place, L kept - by a crippled/.octogenarian, whose constant, boast wag th.afche.had "üt .V the British:in 181^.and could.do it " agin." if they'd only come where* he^was^ As his only weapon of offence was.a crutch,, there i was not much danger of his injuring anybody in his •exhibitions of the manual, of :arms » which' were frequent when .the war.humour was.on htm.. - The tavern only contained four, rooms Tmd a garret, ;so, that iwbat occurred, fa one part was, pretty «urê to be soon known in another.', The::first floor- rooms were the bar-and, general Bmoking room, the dining-room and kitchen all in one—the landlord's family room, and the: best:bqd- room—the last of which, with two beds,. was< occupied » by Mrs. Cody,. her daughter,, and the irrepressible Kitty ^Tuldoon. The presiding genius of the bar-room was Major "Williams, the landlord—the presiding genius of the bitchen and boss of the whole house was Molly Williams, his young wife—that is, young, compared' with him, for she was only five-and-thirty, while he was eighty years old, if a day. Late on the afternoon of the same day on which' Buffalo Bill left with his party, two- smart-looking strangers, well mounted, but with no arms visible, arrived at the tavern. [They carried saddle-bags on their horses, аз western travellers generally do; wore rather superior clóthes, and carried themselves аз men do who think -themselves above- the "common herd'?--of* humanity.. Directing that their horses should be well-fed and well groomed, they ordered supper, and stated that' they should remain all night. Major Williams hobbled about.on his^crutchy. quite, delighted- at this acquisition of custom,^-es- pecially as the strangers patronised .the'.tincture' of aquafortis which was labelled "old rye/' in his decanters, and to a very ¿quiet system of careless questioning gave a perfect.statement of everything regarding the population of the place, absence" oí the men, even to the presence of the^ mother and' sister Dtthc famous scout and Indian, hunter, Buffalo Bill. The two men, both young.and stalwart in form, keen-eyed, and., with rather a military look,- ex- changed'meaning glances^rom;time' to time -as the. garrulous old-man t chatted on; but/, his -eyes were dim, smoke-clouded, too, from.his ever.active pipe,, and .he did not notice it.. Supper was served for ¡_them .with the whole family, and the widow, with her beautiful daughter, and Kitty Muldoon, occupied one part of the table. The eves of the elder of the two strangers, a dark- complexioned man of, probably, twenty-eight or thirty, flashed with wild, passionate glance as it fell upon the perfect form and lovely face of Lottie, while his companion seemed more impressed with the lèss\ soulful look, but plump proportions and rosy face,of/bright-eyed Kitty Muldoon, . The 4widow, ..ever reticent to strangers,¿ took scarcely any, notice of these persons, * though the elder, very conversationally inclined,, sought to introduce several topics of interest to attract her notice. ч From his talk it appeared that he and Ыз com- f>anion had been up the Missouri river purchasing a arge tract of land with the intention of settling. When the major asked questions about the com- ing war they appeared to be very poorly informed; but Mrs. Cody, with that quickness of perception peculiar to her sex, made up her mind that they knew more than they, cared to disclose. Also-that when they chose sides, if they had not already done so, the Southern, and not the Northern, was where tliey wpuld be found.,, I As'soon as,suppér..wasv oyer, the ovîçlow. and iher. | child jretirecLto the-b'ed-rpoinj followed; ;by-Kitty; Muldoon, 4vHUéj:t^e¿strangers returned:to,the.bar-; rqomy .into^yhichlfwith the-coming-of;night,;the most of, th^malc,; population of the place.found its' way.' ff - ". ■ ' • To makeHthemselves. ;popular.,with these; people, the strangers Avere ,quitp JiberalJn trpating, and it wits uotdohg before nearlyall луеге more or less under the influence of the. vile, .beverage,which.was vended at, the bar. Thé' strangers pretendedjto drink quite* as freely as those whom; they, treated,.sq often,i;,biit<.tbey poured dût scarcely anything-for - themselves, and so diluted what they did take with water, that they felt none of the effects which they were producing on others. Poor Mrs. Cody trembled while she listened to the foolish speeches and maudlin songs which proclaimed that the few men left to "protect the settlement were becoming each moment less and still less capable of dping service ; she almost felt relieved when the night wore on and comparative silence told that those who were not helpless from drink had staggered away to their homes;. :* <•-' The old, major-hung put as long as .he could,- but at last sunk.down helpless in;his chair behind, the bar, and then the two étrangère were alone.-,.; ;An eye was, ón them, however, for MrW-iMolly Williams, though perfectly willing to see the money come.into the drawer, did not believe in its going put again, so when she saw her old husband sink, down into helplessness, as she did through a crack in the kitchen door, she took post where she could observe the actions of her guests. . She saw.that with their heads close together, they were talking low and, quite, earnestly, and she. tried hard to catch some idea of what they said. But this was^not possible, though she onco heard the elder .say "the girls" as he glanced toward the interior of the house. She felt confident that they were planning some mischief,' for now that they believed themselves un- molested, they exhibited a brace of revolvers, and two huge knives, which hitherto had been hidden under their clothing,. She, was not a wpman of, timidity—fewbordebwo- men are—and she was thinking how she should act to secure the money in the drawer, inform them that it was bed-time, and drag her drunken old husband to his nest, when the^ramp of horses'hoofs reached hèr ears. "TL¿ boys are coming! we're all right now Î" said the elder of the strangers, springing to his feet at this sound. "The plunder .and the girls first, and a ^big blaze afterwards!"' CHAPTER XV. IT was almost daylight when Buffalo Bill got back to where. Wüd Silland the two horses had been left... Quick, Bill," said the former; "quick, mate, and get out of sight. We've got work to do* over there, but wo can't do it by daylight. They're too well fixed. . .Mount, and let's get back to the hoys, and out,of sight, and then I'll tell you all I've seen." The two men mounted, and sped away swiftly, and in a few minutes had rejoined their party. , .: These were also put in motion, and .when.; day dawned, they halted behind a low range^ of ipebbly hillá, about seven or eteht miles from the river. Here the first act of Buffalo" Bill was to post a dis- mounted' man where he could just look oyer the crest of .the hills, and seethe river and bushy growth along, its margin, without exposing himself to obser- vation from-that direction. The horses, picketed, with a. guard tódóok oüt fór them,Vwere put among, the. low. a*avihes/iwhere, the buffalo ^grass .was finest,rand*a .half :dozèn:imen, taking turns with a spade, which hadtbeenxbrought* along,, set out in the .lowest place tovdigVa well so that they might have water. . ..) No fire was allowed, and silence wns .enjoined. (To be continued. Commenced In No. 171.) *¿ A N O T H E R ^ а ХЗ? X' To Every Subscribcr'tO;^ .;-'.; ,'. » "YOUNG ' MEN: ' OFi: GIŒAÎ i tîBITAlN. ,f TO-MORROW,1 "With" thO YOUN'G MEN OF GREAT BltlTAlNV-Will bo GIVEN AWAY No, 1 of a Nqw Romance,,of Startling and Thrilling Interest, entitled,: THE, RIVAL, APPRENTICES;: A TALE OP THE RIOTS OF 1ZS0. This work will be from the pen of the Favourite .Author of "The Young Apprentice," *'Rupert Dreadnought/* ••Young Iron-Heart, " &c,,&p.,.and jvviilbelull ot Stirring and Inciting Incidents. This Grand Story will be printed on TOXTÎD lïArKR,^ in |NEW TYPK.;and :will, bo Profusely'Illustrated;by itho best Artists of. the, day> , ORDER, AT ON ОБ, i ( . . . , In order to secure a supply. Remember to ask for NoV. 112 with the New Story, Gratis.*-, .. •' ^ t Mr^Mrett wishes hi$ Readers io, mdcWatídd'hall if any Jiandbills have been ищйей^Л^тх Wßrh:%fAhey. have been placed there' witIiout,,\hk фющШдр ftoiv authority, by some,2>ersoti";tcho_ itcts %takm¡la¡mean advantayejyf the pçpuïarity of-the* \: . - "noxß.OF mxglanj);k> . u YOUNG JÍENí OF GREÁT-BmXÁíN^and "BÖ¥S\QF ТНК'WORLD,". - Those three Journals being* the only ones:Mi\ Brett is connected teittw.i :. MR.: ;ED\yiN J. BHETT.: Wishes to Inform -hk: readers,'in j acknowledgment of the great .favour bestowed/¿ipon this Journal i by all 'classes, that he intends to present Gratis - A SERIES OF -l^GOTFICENTr1 GIFTS, to be continued week by week, of a most-novels amusing, and instructive kind. Theso gifts will'entirely differ from-anything hitherto given with any journal. *' , Full particulars-will be given in an parly ,Numbefof the BOYS OF ENGLAND. ГАИТ XXXIX. of the BOYS OFi ENGLAND IS NOW READY, Price Sixpence; or, Post free from our office, Scvenpence, ! THE MIMIC STAGE. Our Readers are informed that all Stages for £ho Plays issued by Mit. Brett''Will bear his autograph, with the following notice pasted on the back "Л1г. Edwin J, Brett's Stagc.ior the Boys op England, Young? Men of Great Britain, and I}OY.%OF THE WORED;" J Any RugoR that do not bear the abovo notice arc only imira ioiK of him Sta^s, and our Readers aro requested not to purch;t*e them. 9 Л f A PR i I b ШЖ .}(> BOYS OF ENGLAND, ROBIN MQÖ1 AND HIS MEBRY MEN, VVi »)У> .SHADE, liy lav Author л м/мк' Cloaca;," ¿o; "bbj ааа 1," ччЫ biub; J * -Ь ri; "io fact, I navt*r wa- m) Ahoi'f ал I am hi po ь^аа,." AJSi^ TU« LAIiKH Т1И.У ГЬАУШ* IX THE CliCKX- «J»T.i --л nu m.ли-/ ut ab bbib'abdc4 Artimr- : a-bbooa I "A'bl J'y»? ;_"ít fVOií кк- ?ba íbaí, * ob-i:rv«.d ! Mrobi th«i Mabaa [ "My í«ií;k*;:^ aiv >a¡payb' a : mi '''«i Tíof^u-u- (ir*'':.'.. * T » %r í< К U' '"Л.-. w m»-, fm 'íuíí«* r.tuíup'.í, *u AHhü'íi. .'o,mí i! bku , l)4le- '* ,;,»!' »4'<>m<, Will .Soarb'»!,! .*uy* ib ^a, ls a^roao-- ';i4| i;, 'm;. r'"'»''y pftí y fbobf . -¡ и:*.Ц"у ¡ ;■» .tí. » v '0»L, }'fobva : ,н-к abuaf, , У'* . í 'iic-v." :'i'o-uo und ¡ '* i' ba>aiay ií habí ?ят: 4* b'aac o¡o< У" ,-....\f».r lin.-' "V'.'-'; Til h<-t y:H U .ub'baa* ral i*/' , „;,д,ч1 '** Ни,! Un Г ;*»!.•' ■ t\ ¡UA,,n. "íi',r* .» ;."«Л ш. | vi ¡- , bo f 1Ь;*л «мп y./u bf-í a u;aaar* if vv,i а <'? ао<»,а s In ofabur ¡ ^ ЬЬ^чаау У wonK h»> I ^ Ш Л',{гЬ,11 ]M'k.:d m Ií í,:t<í b ra "obb ( r r 4. 4 i 4 bar lot all М;н :uau;cr ba uor hu¿ uf iaa r< yul b.ib ¡ Kabbt bko; tb" moia-y," ara hi 'нш*?-' '"Well. }¡**ro\s ,ч poafy ]< r > ■ • 1 • i y :,<.•'.. < и j y \v :ll! f r, ;;;(;[ij¡,! I.»- ffuly \a í/i'vi ян i*r« *\h; "ire f/«'î t in«/ m I , ¡u fi;;!^ ¡4**4'!»^l4 í 1 í;t í íi |,Г j 1 i , i ¡'Л V, H% U )* ■, >*'fXV>-A i-' Ьо ;r"t- I }.. *bi, t i i, \ Íhhí mi :!«'<•<% ;uid w*i l'.avrii'í h»-i uj«m a rich: f., м íjaís f Bpr and brave a» iu- wx-í, ( fi'Küií rhe Ь5^' linker r:tüíf4'nv•',•«• rh.ui «не 1m-j i;*:u¡y j r;i q/uirhr xm\,"' ww tin: tiukoi'n-i'1C''î /(.f//;; s ou, ('•(■. ím 11 i и !п:-''.'' 41 V>, pray ¡lfîji'î,," tn'ïf.'d RnK'bi. Tb'''B Ь*'ц; ji?v |?an1«/î5." kb Ail ri-kt I'll bt'ir it.M "Л ,и1 :r;V*,' b'í í b;t¡":k :г,}' у.'' ¡ и íílxm >'иа i-го." *" j ',л ¡:(í J: V. ;iíT:-y>t/'! Ï tore ibat up iiif/f HitЬ*. bits; bin. tlt^y am í .;î.,-:v,l .tbvf'.f, f J;.^!*,;, ,4 L , ,s; Í! V"i; t<» íi: i* f fivni and put Uniih '0;vi,],. .;¡i :\,\¿\:,y- Júiblü W(Hil4ti t bear vi il. ] but; Ni?; í'Il !»H«H y« tlo tî: 4.».i.y uiiU, y'vui if it isn't f lîiisjn, .HOW ílnwtt t'» y "И f ;% . iVAm\t Щ- ran 1иЫ<> Join; ;«ли! ^ :Г ^л,л,1,ы ^' Wby, Ош lililí: 1,ч. Ïi4rd ш, •. ^ f » bV/V/i'-if, wild;, it .4r¡U' M', :^ ïn':rb if b* wi Д«4Д*е sume Lo m Г' Ш <ЪЪп. { -1 ^ nothing и Л!» í;i:¡.;n i r.'fí.rh ;t Ь лпу î;'-',r iî'.c' : ■ í'f/j ;;s ;f » î.» • v, ■ ; h î 3 bt: «iHi.b-v chiff .^Tuíi'bíu-ur hi - Ь'.-;и1 until he ''"Г )f." n Vti%hl u _ ,;,y»rín }T't!r IJ1;,»;,1 , . ■ г . ,, . « 1 ^bi.-h ÍJtíb Jr,bn .1Ï4; r»;4 11', /^ГлГ- tjí* î! b»; frb;H<ú V l'jîiktir» j4,ni o¡i¡* 1'.'»»<in^ to p.l b>r "vu\-l>i;?.¡¿ иь: muí s у.Ч) tin? thru^Kimr Val! |¡;.iV<' яОпЫИ.-Ь'Г'чЬ Wtj а! '-hap' :imi ,4)iaro :ilik< hi-ru,- :u,d íí J"H t:ik'» put In nur little tíX|)tícliti 'a i t i, íí fi h mU with the r»,-wt oí th>- Ь,,ллК ;tü«l ?и-я«еЬ lived with tiioiö in tbi- f0i**i.-»t. .«id ei i* I ^t/od scr-. ... ,;Yüik> hi roí/tiiliíi^ f un kctii'tví ,-íhi «>f Î!'! \xu fïûlyl Küj-.-wi'jj." fu: :иЫЫ, «-iní,'í:uhíí,'4 the aoiinal, ли-Г bra vin- ч .4i,'íj ло ií-«b' V-.'.il it ;-'.b<<;<;; Ч'Г^пп bw'tVfi.4 olí' i û».f i;«::*r.,Hi í o-'"o Ггл м.г;у p-'t with у.п. fur, like !У;.;•>•}ф,ч, w!m wii¡- íí»'0 ?" i»«i mhí b«"-r,-i% í í'.íü ,i¡!'¡ ytw /V/ sin a! t'a* Г í^n ,-¡t,yb:-:, h< ,\ j-b'.yfbÍ p;.*l!r!f "'t-nrb ujT? wirb bs- b' го**-ib-!:. ;о,,г *lblt;»" biüviir; íi> .-puî'i .чЬ. í,í и,.,! л í >■>', .:¡s«¡ ib- ;.î:r ».f . bb Н»: b;' î.HLV b,br'4 .:brr;« "'î!,:' jbílb.iH **' :*'%/ь- toii^ ¡,t o v;:-.',,í;,|(. , ni Ьи«í^'j .,л' ?ь« YA.'l ÎOr'.'rtt. W i? íibUÍ, líOi*,! bí(Lf ,4h Vb> ,b V. Ibí»; Ьпг.че kupí up <1 Ьп.чК pLrc, ^xrcp! \\'Ыг> Ьо îi;iyp<'îi"il îo p. biooby, 4,r ,sî.,p; / r .b:v .чГ^ИП<-гЬигГ. •Ai^'.ob Lappvî»*;d about о\«.-г) ' t'-îi îîoioiIi-л on tilo Ьи*bj J< bíí, ¡íOwvvij\ win t'w'si ¡i ^о<(«! rbb'f fb't*. 1h: cuiibl ;ibvuy,4 Ы'р он ц !д>г^«« », ví,«n wlu*n br w.^A îhro\%ii «4T, uto! ;if bi.-.è O'buf;«ol íbt; yab oit ;t¡nnb«! î»» obiMÜríi*:**, ai:U oüm!<' !bm bu biJ two iiob;ainI h:bí •ли hour tiki- 'i О" ль «fV.bi.f "Ar.'br vrr i/* '. ч r<.¡ p»ír ytvv % )¡;y ï.m-vr oVbb r,í\ < u -h: о >»гЬ ».f tb'; ^<*;?ii>»4 itpú |»Í4í4i;h,í han.^bf :я bb1'-- .ЬЛдГ.ч wîiy. "Nr,br аъч1 bní-io 4* Aí;b P' ! b.í, ibn bl«->t if I -b'.ubbb* ..-tií'Jí out, Ot;: ¡,f i\m \s,ív, or y(.üi¡ rutï ov«rr,n "Wb;o, i.y //. и './O' o,".:, bïab uí !, * k . b!:- fb- .br,-1-? !•!" a <í* ib-b",í: .':0'. j,-.-? г!'.:п" f о л-л -},t, b"..'"k^:>; 'J'!/.' '■; t;:," 1 un'bt ÎOi'i 1,0'. iU'i "Xir.iuy М:.,г;м; bf-î*', / /-о',/" / "i í У'-Ai MI' ,Ui <«j Ь 0<: b* « "Г'Ь tbr h< oy.'ír. ¡II a» .i'.vob i'"V. • -f < »' o ,'i - «í-s, :.•<;-r,;;0'b, íí.m] bo p'iíbib! и - vi "и :i !b- ib n • f opsrrj £>brnv< .»;b ..:,k " í,b,<; tb» is: .(b<,in,, ;o:0 fare oil' ho *..;0;r (b-(bï Tib Ь.мр^цГ u«tk vñ' i;:* «;oay wiíibi n.ss ío.,pa-í,i l,b';0 ir r«' .'.'tni)'.'o <>l íb«- Ьч_ i; ln,go:»í /¿aí>i /• ¿o /i'//r/ .ftt'r'í fi'iji /bt г' Thro î b»i " íübi " Íh-oH!¡. Tbn¡'orb Л» bilí л д,- !;;wrb í'bbo í 0-íO b i 4 Oí! î ;MÍ b « , b«- i.oo-r b'bi." íi- b".ib ,» ir wr1 l.íi/o í,hí o1 •or< íi:/ -х - o o o i b *.v,, • / л U»' o í; • ■,',<./«.!,.,•:•, j;ri r-^/ f bo ütbt»rV 14 '-bao tb aab * y?'V"-ia!0! b«an^ ,vi taib *taiib)! t v»-ry n**b) b;,rf-1 а/Ь/а/. Bat it ataaatai aa ií bulb, ur jaa'tiarr, vr;¡v ;а«аа,а' }a abo ,\l hisi ihij ,0',} p. »I t'ibrt'rr.b ano <'гЬ.-х\ a í$aiat% n^zvirùiïv/, it а.-, д iírav/j: balaba, aiaj, aa yuu ^t*a, il, ba» bí,r-a oia\ was i ¡y our aíií-t. "Hiaaii j! !" <мам! ,)oíaa "l waV«? fontbib ^non^h, ir и i w«bl ííímI taa-b a-tbar-i m* <аг. 1 b'*! у <. и ivbot; ba. us ïaab1 aa a.rb'aùaa ю'-ааа:!". V<.", t-baa mv i/rfraaa ouaî, baa bu^aa j^ur-u, дча. m¡«i k ГЬ b-av.: -vi ."м,ч; ач! м{Ьм;г {."ra 'а * , , : , ;in» ;м» t" í,a а 'beggÄf шушМ» lift a g:«â trade, îsti*'! it T9 '< î.i,-, aar- ab-r, u I kno-.д tai br- Ij'.oa'p rb«r-a ïarty л'а; а' а; га a bîbuai К i.aa- "а о" оаа.г а/7 '•-Ь î,4" bo". ГО Wb<; ubi clotbes were so жяеЬ» i a- a'.- a'-a.b.ar a baíu fío, .ab I ii.sw r-ra1 'iy <а" Ibaaib. (bu ..ji !» b a! !ir lïhvt.àl't :i; *• aab ir: iuuioí aa ^bi a, • СПЛГГП; ,\b Y /;'П f 'a'f. ar h' г. a<; , p;É,^. ^_ • ,( WiaO- lnoa-uo: "I think you- are pretty well subdued now, The girls had heard of Frank's equestrian 1 feat at the town-hall, and had been told that he afterwarda rode out of town. They, especially Kate, felt anxious to know how the mad ride had terminated, and were walking down towards the school in-the hopes of-hearing something. "( s Bight glad were/they-both to sce-our herotind his: friends « \ Dear reader, you really have no.'right to know all the tender nonsense that was said fturirig*the: ten minutes'immediately after the meeting of the young 'couples, so, with your -permission we will pick up the thread of their discourse from 'thó/time when "they arrived at ascertain green 'field, the proprietor of which had placed rustic seats by the'pathway* * 1 Having'seated themselves, in^the course of a very-loving conversation the day üf the month happened to be called in question. "It's the third of: September," observed the -earl. - . , "Then nest Wednesday ц the holiday, 'Ноту j-'áháll\vóspéhüit2'^aSkeO^EifánT¿ . - '■ Now this was,a-very important question, ■ and, my beauty," said the "young "equestrian-, as-he+while they-are—considering—the-girls-waitiDg-Uiommonly brushed the dirt off her legs "and flanks, an operation she submitted to very quietly; "but you'll have to carry me back over that ditch." He led her about a hundred yards, turned, remounted, and rode her at the dyke, which this time she cleared splendidly. JThcn Frank rejoined ,Webber, and, after a quiet-trot across the downs, the two youths re- entered- the'"-good old town of Ballsbury by another road. pBaynes was having a solitary ride out. >!As Frank and his friend were returning they jaèt him. 4Ä slight nod was the only acknowledgment of acquaintance, but Baynes's flushed face be- tokened his mortification at the frustration of his schemes. vHe bad heard of the affair in the market-place arid, town-hall^, and, m while hearing, muttered ctirses upon Í he} good" fortune ?Which * seemed to; atUhcL cveiy action of our'herol/ < *: л r' iTrañk, on appearing witHíth¿;tamed/steed' at the J stable-yard^ ^received ' a ^perfect4 ovàtion, wliich he too}t,:^cry^cwlly,*\^ptiknbwiiig-"how farHhe'ihorsèiri people^there 'assembled were sincere in their: congratulations. •>Vffhe master of the'establishment was profuse in 'lii^ apologies for4he inconvenience > to which *Fra'nk had been ¡put, adding—, ;•'."'" I never 'knew':the mare -do such* aching. Tief ore!": v/V ^Frank- thought tha^Téry possiblej^and ac- iCèptcdUhe apology, -'especially as the';owner of &roWn:Bess offered him ;;the free fuse of the Quadruped two'daysд-Week kihd;a pic-nic without having a lot of old people to look after theni. So'they made all4hcir arrangements It was agreed-that twb'Tehicles,;ïach capable of holding about six people, Bhouldihc\;m readi- ness at the "Bed Lion," -at''half-past'-eleven on "Wednesday morning,':>:to '-convey - the ^vhole party to VKnitton Follyi4almo^ideiighitful wood; about síxímiles distant, /у, Щ.у'-" í Jhe'-'Barl. of .'PembfidgeUndértook to make arrangfemëhts ^with'^WHite,-the "bestv pastrycóbkj in'the town, for a couple of ^hampers^of refresh■ ments. 4W * * , * "!Im agine that itfis Wednesday, 11.30 AM. ^ The scene i$ the*courtyard;of~the " Red Lion hotel. "': ::» • In addition to the four people who arranged the affair, Marsham, Lascelies, and Freddy Webber are present, also two young ladies ;námcd' -Gnniths," with' their mammaü wRo,- on learning the manner in which the expedition was organised, volunteered to accompany it, as a sort of body-guard and defence against all kinds of scandal and evil-speaking. Frank Egerton, of course, drives one of the vehicles, which also contains Kate Conway, her sister, the Earl of Pcmbridge, and Mrs. Griffiths, the remainder of the partyч being in vehicle number two, tooled by Albert Marsliam, who was a far better hand at driving than parsing, A most pleasant drive was it. First over the old stone bridge, then by the* side of some- fertile meadows; but, gradually ascending,- they reached a range of glorious downs, covered with golden-blossomed furze. Four hundred and odd feet above the level of Lexicon College playfield, where the summer breezes,-though igen tie, and soft, sang weird songs-in their ears, and nothing else could bo heard on the how deserted race-course save the shrill .cry of the lapwing, and the hum of the bee. On one side of the road that famous region of fir and beach^known as the Warren (my lord's keepers would not allow pic-nics there).; and on the other hand "an cxpanse of some-miles of open and cultivated land, in one part -flescendmg into a? Valley where the villages* of ;Coombe, Stratford, Bishopstohe, and Chalkèflay, -hidden from thëvgaze of ouryoung excufsibnists.^* At length they reached Knitton ^olÍyí-and turned aside out of the old, g?ass-gro\vn;:Boman road they had-been travelling. ■ \ ь The carl was pilot, and told Frank .to keep on down; the central ride .or, avenue, which lie did till they reached a.^asfc ¡cavity in the'hill-side, "-known-as«the Devil's-Punch-bowl; popular tradition asserting that his satanic majesty was formerly in the habit of mixing his strong potations there. Not far from the Punch-bowl was a little cottage, inhabited by one of the keepers, whose son, an uncouth urchin of ten, readily agreed to take charge of the horses and provisions. It was not long past noon when our friends reached their destination ; a slight luncheon was partaken of, and then the party dispersed, intending to meet again at four for a more sub- stantial meal. Of course Frank and Kate 'Conway walked away together, and, equally of course, the Earl of Pcmbridge placed himsolf beside Lizzie. Marsham and Lascelies took charge of the other young ladies, leaving Freddy Webber to escort Mrs. Griffiths. From the "Punch-bowl" to Buscombe Ivors, where nuts were plentiful, was not far, and thither they all rflocked. Д v.ï Kate Conwäy had-nevef'been" in such a wild- lopking 4 wood beforehand atfirst'>was father afraid of meeting a wolf or a bear. However, nothing'.worse than a weasel "was seen,-and she soon overcamcíher timidity. It was at least half atfhour after the appointed time*when they returned to the-spot where -the vehicles had been left. -: v The keeper's son hadi collected a quantity' of 'dry wood andmade a fire,?over "which ¿ he häd fixcd'à tripod^of darge sticksïromwhicha kettle was slung.-; '*:лУ^ But whilé the tea ^¿s^bbing* ma'dc a' most unfortunate accident^töok. place. ]; " - ;* ■ Kate'Conway Had gone.by ^herself 'to ,a bank where a'quantity of large/feathery'grass grew for, the purpose of collecting arquantity oï;it. ЛУНИе so engaged she felt a sharp sting on the !pâlm, and hastily* lifting up her hand tfound a 'reptile about4wo feet and a half long ^hanging from it and endeavouring to twine ^ound hér 'arm. Л' '' "'^.,„ \ She ;gave a loud^ scream, :and in ап/instant Egerton^appcared at,her side.T » ¿- ",ч V>4 Qh, Frank; Frankel" exclaimed thbfrigh tened giri;r "It's an adder И ciied Frank^-änd seizing the venomous beast by"the\ tail 'he" jerked it'bway, throwing it very'b.hearly into Freddy ^Webber's face, as that youth and Marsham were cominfe up to see what was the matter. Л .■ 1 Frank was too busy, howerbr/to notice what became of it. ^ ^ V'/*':>" "Turn your'Kead aside,*-my darling, that you may not sceTwhat I-àm- going~ to -do/^said he, taking the bitterl'Hand :ih*his bwh^> ^ Kate, whójhad the inost implicit; confidence in hcryöung clover, immediately -looked* away. iK; Frank ;iristantlyfopertéd :his pënkriife^ma'de a deep cut where4 the ;poisoii *fftügs;had"pi6rced :tbb skin, iind sucked rthe wound.;;" rr; , 0h¿ ïlrahk'deàr; you :>jll^iipoisoh'yourself," said 'the Mr ^iri; as ^ soon - as she>kncw-Avhat ; he ■was'doing^'^' 'tS'^fTr./r .. f P* I think nót,"my love; I am trying to save 3rour;lïfe/and if I faiM have no wish to live. Now theii'let mc tie" this Tound," t . ApniL 1, 1S70.J 259 BOYS OF ENGLAND. This was a pockct-handkcrcliicf torn in strips, *whicli he bound round Kate's wrists so tightly that the circulation of the blood was stopped, the venom being thus prevented from spread- ing. Freddy Webber and Marsham had killed the adder, which was certainly a very ugly-looking reptile, nearly three feet long. Lascelles had busied himself from'the time of the first alarm in getting the horses attached to the vehicles. Kate Conway was handed into one of them with lier sister, the Eárl of Pembridgc, and Mrs. Griffiths; Frank seized the reins and drove off -as sharply as possible towards Ballsbury, leaving the others'to pack up the hampers and follow. The surgery of Doctor Roberts was one of the •first houses they came to after reaching the town. Frank pulled up, lifted out Kate, and carried ber into the place; the poor girl was almost fainting with fright, pain and excitement. The case having been explained to him, Doctor Eoberts proceeded to make a very careful ex- amination of the wound. "You have had a very narrow escape," said he. "If this young gentleman had not acted with such promptitude you would by this time have been past recovery, for the wounds made by the adder's fangs were deep, and touched an important vein." He then prescribed a variety of poultices, lotions and draughts, and recommended Kate to go home to bed at once, promising to call later in the evening and see how she progressed. Frank would not leave her till she was safe at her father's door. As they were about to part the fair girl threw her unbandaged arm about her lover's neck, and, while holding up her rosy mouth to be kissed, whispered— "My Frank, you have twice saved me from death; my life shall be devoted to your happi- ness I" CHAPTER XXIV. Л MYSTERY CLEARED UP. Before he retired to rest thati night, Frank sent his messenger and hcncliman,;Harry,4o Mr. Conway's house to inquire after Miss Kate's health. \. To his great satisfaction-thé boy returned with } thc/pleasing intelligence that4 the doctorrhad j said all danger was over. ^ ,; t ;; I After that Frank was able to'go to bed and sleep well, a "thing he had previously despaired, of being able to do. ."<*-'! The next * morning the messenger was * sent again, and this time Harry returned with the following news. I 'Miss Conway was not likely to suffer any ill effects from the adder's bite, but" the 'surgeon had advised her to remain in all -that day, that she might recover from the severe shock her nervous system had sustained. Next day she was quite "well, 'with* the excep- tion of a "slight wound on the hand where Frank's knife had'left its trace. Awecbaftcr the pic-nic which'had come toso unpleasant a 'conclusion/ a*grarid * football' match took place. Thirty boys selected nominally by Crawley, but in reality by Baynes,-who assumed the' man- agement1 of affairs from the time the challenge was given, undertook to play twenty'bclcc'ed by Frank Egerton, the King.of 4he School^ king in sports and pästimes as*well as in scholastic studies. Crawley, artfulfellow, had quiëtly'ehlisted all the"big boys under his banner, except'some' half dozen of our friends, who declined to'take service w{th such a captain,, so that, when Frank began tö look up his side, he found he must content himself1 with smaller chaps. / He, of course, had Marsham, Fitzgerald, Las- cóles, and Webber on his side, but the others vvere puny-looking conipared with'those" attached to Baynes and Crawley. But his fellows were full of pluck, and/all looked up to him as their undisputed'leader. Every command of his was obeyed without the slightest hesitation, and each player did the work assigned to him without grumbling. With the opposition it was different. Many of them knew quite as much about foot- ball as their reputed leader, and could play as well, if not better; there was much jealousy at and resistance to the authority assumed by Baynes. Consequently, while they should have been practising, they were debating as to who should be their captain. The all-important hour arrived. "To the goals! To the goals!" shouted Egerton. Small fry and non-players were uncere- moniously bundled out of the way, and the two bodies of players took up their positions at their respective posts. Football is a game so well known and prac- tised, that it would be unnecessary tö here enter into a learned disquisition on the merits of the game, and its rules; so having separated the bodies of antagonists, let us commence playing. Egerton, with his usual good-luck, had won the choice of goals and the Иск off. Having arranged his little army, some to keep the goals, and some to play up, he shouted out— "Are you ready?" "Yes," was the reply from the opposite side. Without more ado, ho took a short run of half-a-dozen steps, and sent the ball whizzing away towards the opposite goal, a fair flight of at least fifty yards before it touched the ground. A loud cheer, and the opposite side rushed forward-to drive it back ; the two.sides closed, and—' ;,.' "When Greek joined Greek then was the tug of war." There was a furious struggle, a denso mass of human beings struggling towards a central point, where hard kicks were plentiful, and where Frank Egerton might have been seen exerting all his strength to drive the ball to- wards the adversary's goal. "Donner and blitzen! you haf break my legs 1" exclaimed a guttural voice. And Professor Moeritz, who played with Egerton's side, limped out of the crowd, but in a [ few seconds returned, again to receive something' more than a share of the hard knocks of the battle.: i - At length the crowd suddenly separated. The ball was driven back to Egerton's side, and a determined rush of Baynes's partycarricd It nearly up to the goal. Look:out there," shouts Frank; but the warning was unnecessary. His players were all on the watch. Back comes the ball, and with a well directed drop kick the King of the School-sends it flying about two feet over the cross-bar between the I göal posts. Loud cheers from Frank's side, from thé non- players, and from two youog ladies, who had been very anxiously watching the game from the roadway near the gate. Baynes and Crawley, who had not done much of the hard fighting, by-the-byc, .bullied their men awfully, and an immense amount of grum- bling-ensued during the'ten minutés that were devoted to changing goals, and preparing for the next kick off. Glenny, one of Baynes's best players, roundly declared that he! would ndt be ruled by an ass, who shirked his own share of the work; and being loudly applauded by the others, proceeded to make his own preparations for continuing the! game. ; letter of any v ту ejreat importance to you, Üíiyncá Г* asked the aoctur. "* It is, iuaad. >ir,1i *• r;:it vue d.-'ba-' p? ^¡v- the writer's nana, iiiid it,, say what it i- all about Г '* Onamly, >na The thiol", whoever he m;;y Ь»1" —her': be \,,t kod full ai Kgeduii, who met his gaze .<í,. usdhneldtieby that the bully wus cont- 1" i led u> turn a way—** kaow> wry well that the k'IUT d- whЦЦ: jM'iiiiciitcil V disturbed.'' 'M и y It ni' ига чМ ¡y !" oxelai' Ja m.vb a s*op !\»! ward. "Hit down, sir Г replied the r-tn. ■.- —i-, - tones ¡4; authoritative that Ьаут: ;dunk back to his ы-ut Hka a whp ■ . ** I should like to have a í ab.-cia-ta A b vv abauta> afî<»r th. «Ifb-i-tivr <>aib'b p.v,ay íb<; il(nii,ú\ r»ayi:«is ro^tï l'i'oia bi> .-cal an*i walked Îow;i!4ïh Uni door, ** í'faya¡.;s; y (ja .diaU iat as boi-îor !«,,'iva haa.# IHK ROMANCE OF PKENCH HISTORY. F!lo;,l THE KAUbl'bSb A(l!^. By Um Лиih .г m " í'aít así) 1'u.y.^i.s i&cM &e. : or tv ^^ s/ *• Лай got a'a* ay b* *' ТЬо" boabis b.'U\4:s tbo HC.bi' fho ih,<:u,,i\ wh bim aad stalks I tíio îo.a to- |,т b'I M-ia ааЬ*:2" a.o\ » then ,u'atbavd i t out. îhotu ^oiîig WrÍ!<;r la î as iolîow I b'.aa ! fea fay pf t pupil, iba Kín.íf al my № "Tiiis icttor» winch Î as"k ti whbo be was phiym^ íootbdb ¡> ¡♦•y» ilid!<-r wb'a idfaa,.Tiy Laaatrd llí< bava A tux probibiuai у.аа" » »uj>i ls i-,/* u Tail Ibis is no pa-oa Tba ac'sa^-s bayiiísj* a,< rtuaa a¡ -oo-b^b u l'rí]« ;lail sooa а,- 1 lab o-ad I wa»a to this < apaon f'.o"aia;,oa, I knew wiaa'o i o tind Ihm, ai al vxiovUui ¡r,-,m biia a roaía:4sa?íi vvbadi Kavc iaa íuü ргоо;' <ч Iku n- -bs taab / "«dan it bo possible ,г—Л püpd oí mita; a <-oinri4(ai thíid"!" *' Voh ; aad a dau^chuís ^с, ha* b ;s'b a way tbat iba' Гц- t aooraiaac" bba «ai oíbí-rH." "What is to ho doiaa^' Voíl laud pï4iso*a;ha"? » Wiait í'1 44 1 .say you lüiiíst ргол/iaaç ítia offíaaita*," » i <>aauot/' Tía- (íoM/ctívc îîa ndy srnilod» A!'!.:- a ba:a Ь1»аа*<> tía- doaínf a'jai a s¡'»<-i-a', "Vos, hí î Har a naaabor oí iba podar 1му<:*'г of ooinao kaow da? rouíia,a of tbo law in -vsab ais',«, 1 il la»! : "out I гаг;ai?ay >hah îîoî ap- p.our catiior as prosocatur or wiun^a a<;aíuí. иш of fay own pa: b-b1 *• f boa, SH'f Ш) misboîî U ft ;, ib dad, i a;¡v I • iraod out üa o!Í!-i!dc«T ; a,ad b wsa !.•!';;.-" - s - ri anady ofbavd by Iba law i oaiy wad5 fay baad* ..a' da: aas-*."1 *' Vvry L«>ud."' *' Л но, oí < оигло, í -bal! bo l'oaiî-'-dod to r*> loítót- tbo biayi.a', tía- щ;*а wan ¡aa ю ;*a\saa iaîj tía* !a!a г sía:ds ia oí gaib di.4urbance here Г oat, aaaîasf У hi г mat oil for his antagonist. In the itKMatinaa Frank ly^Ttoa was mibiiaj: Ibiyaos in spiaîifîjd stylo, ami very shortly mlured him 'i > «,ayía'4 har; Í The fire, however, only partly:, destroyed the interior of the' building," and ruined the machinery. The outer walls were almost as good as ever. ^ Some few months after the fire just men- tioned, a good gossip from Ballsbury wras return- ing home one night from the neighbouring town of Haftsbury, and, having partaken plentcously of strong ale by the -road, -managed to take a rW,rong turning. . * ""That, however, was, an affair of dittie, con- sequence, as he kne\y_ the bearings' of the country; but to get hörne from the'place where he first discovered his blunder, the .poor ;fellow had to pass by the ruined mill. '¡ As he neared, the building, strange isounds of ; unhallowed merriment were heard, lights flitted to and fro, and dusky figures were seen .inside the building. . The man told his tale," and-was laughed at for his pains. [:Л"' ¿' *' Г Sceptics said-.that the lighfc was AVill^o'ñthe- ÜVisp, ,апсЬ the. laughter only* 'the*!hars)i cry "of some water :-fow£v' '" ^;л:^г/*^: And yet 'from that time the old - mill ;bore ^ie reputation of being haunted. -f *" :.: ¡;41 * * . * * ,ч*г;»*л';*'-'1,'1 'Baynes, still keeping his,arm-fast r.qùhd,Satè ,Çonway's waist, hurried her along till;thcycame to the bridge of planks before-mentioned*.vL .V 0 Then he halted."*' '. / r, .^Ы- "Lift her upi Bob, and carryЪсг;;оуег,".,Ь.с then said. - *" '"-"v.:;;'i: : vK;;^:.V, Bob caught up the girl in his arms,^»Baynes not feeling quite up to the taskj-^and-.trotted with her across the frail bridge. '-;:V;í''~7 * * Kate made one struggle to throw herself fcom his arms into the stream, but the boatman , was too strong for her. The door of the old mill opened to Baynes's touch, and Kate found herself in the'.interior of the building. A most desolate place it .was, though some slight attempt had been made "to render it habit- able. "'■*':*;'.-/, Doors and windows had been constructed, and a few rude articles of furniture" were there, but the beams and rafters, blackened by the action of the fire, looked terribly grim. BOYS OF ENGLAND. 307 Round the Avails were nets and rods, be- tokening that. the old mill was sometimes the resort of salmon poachers. Bob the boatman placed his burden upon a chair, and then stood waiting the further com- mands of his employer. "Leave the place," said Baynes. "All right, guvnor, shall I wait at the boat?" "Ко, go home. I shall walk back." The man gave a rude bow and withdrew. As soon as he had gone, Baynes turned to his captive with a smile, and coming close to her said— "Do you know why I have brought you here, Kate?" 441 do not ; but unless you let me go you will be punished for this outrage." <4I brought you here because I love you, Kate." *' You have chosen a very strange method of showing your love, Mr. Baynes ; but as I cannot possibly care anything about you, pray be kind enough to allow me to depart." "Ño. You cannot go till you promise to be- co .ie my wife." "A boy like you to talk of marrying! The idja is absurd." Kate spoke with a sneer, which cut Baynes to the heart. However, swallowing his rage, he replied— "Has Frank Egerton never said anything of marriage?" At this insolent query Kate Conway's temper was fairly aroused. She clenched her little fist, and struck at Baynes with all her strength. Disregarding her impotent rage, the young ruffian ..continued— "Г know he has promised to marry you in a few years' time, but he shall not do so. J will marry you when I am of age, and in proof that I am in earnest, I swear, by all the powers that be, you shall not leave this place till you have signed this letter, promising to become my wife 1" Baynes's recent reverses of fortune, together with the quantity of bad brandy he had swal- До\тс<1 during the past day or two, had rather muddled his head, and made him speak like a melo-dramatic madman. But Kate thought him the most cool and -determined ruffian imaginable. "I will never sign any such letter!" she boldly replied. "We will see. Twenty-four hours in this dreary old den may induce you to alter your decision." He then went out, leaving • the hateful letter he wished her to sign, upon the table, with a pen and a pocket ink-bottle. Kate heard sounds like the fastening of chains and locks, as -Mr. Baynes departed. irbe was a prisoner then. As soon as his footsteps had died away, she Dcgan to examine her prison, a feat rendered possible by the bright harvest moon. The room she.was in was some distance above the water, and had apparently onco been a kind of store-loft. The. door was fastened, securely, and there was no way of escape but -by the window. Kate looked out. Immediately beneath her was the huge water- wheel, -which had escaped the ravages of the fire, and since-then had hung and turned at the will of the waters, with a restless, .never-ceasing rumble and splash. It was evident she could not escape that way. She returned to the table in the centre of the room, sat down, and catching sight of the hateful letter Baynes had left for her signature, tore it into fifty pieces and threw it out into the stream. Then to secure herself from intrusion, she piled all the furniture she could move against the door, And tried to rcs.t. But the mournful creaking of the water-wheel, in its never-ceasing revolutions, and the strange noises caused by the wind as it whistled through •and around the ruined old building, together with the many strange thoughts that kept rushing through her brain, effectually prevented Kate from sleeping. Not till the sun had fairly risen did she close her eyes. CHAPTER XXI. PRANK TO THE RESCUE Op course you have guessed by this time that Frank Egerton was quite right in his supposition thai; Baynes was going to the ruined mill. The promising young scoundrel who had planned and executed the abduction of Kate Conway, suddenly chanced to remember the following afternoon that his fair prisoner had neither food nor drink. Not that the recollection troubled him much. "Starvation will do her good," thought he; "will bring her to her senses, and show her how completely she is in my power. Then, perhaps, .she will consent; not that I care much about her, but it would be a blow at Egerton's heart." He leisurely collected some food, which he placed in the leather bag before mentioned, and started. Frank, as we know, followed. Baynes, after landing, walked up to the mill, and had just set his foot on the bridge .of planks, which communicated only with his side of the shore, when he caught sight of Frank. There was no possibility of reaching the mill from Egerton's side of the stream, except by boat, or by swimming. "Stop, villain!" shouted Egerton. Baynes made no reply, but with a threatening shake of the fist, darted across the bridge and entered the mill. "How can I reach tlic scoundrel?" exclaimed Frank. A moment's hesitation, then he plunged into the water and begnn to swim acrdss. Baynes saw his object, and, rushing out from the mill, broke down the bridge. "You shall never sec her acrain, Egerton! Bather than surrender lier to yon, I wilf plunge her into the stream!" he shouted. Frank made no reply, but changed his course. Instead of swimming towards the bank, he made direct for the mill itself, which, as before said, stood in the centre of the stream. A piercing shriek caused him to lift up his eyes as he bravely struggled against the flood. Baynes had thrown open the wooden folding windows of Kate's prison chamber, and there he stood angrily clutching her by the arm. "Tell him to keep away," he said. "Frank, Frank ! help me !" cried Kate. "By Heaven ! if he approache$ nearer, I will shoot him 1 Keep back, Egerton, if you value your life!" As he spoke, the young ruffian drew a small pistol, and took aim at Frank's head, which wa3 the only portion of his body visible. Frank heard the threat, and saw the levelled weapon, but he did not heed either. "Bang!" went the weapon, as a puff of white smoke polluted the air, and the bullet splashed up the water close by Egerton's ear. "Perdition seize him"!" muttered Baynes, as he hurled the empty and now useless weapon at bis fob, with no better aim. "Frank, are you'hurt, darling?" exclaimed Kate. u Quick, dear, and save me. He is hurting me." "Patience a moment, love," replied Frank. Making a desperate struggle.against the swift waters, he swam right up to the wheel, which still continued its revolutions, and, catching hold of it, was thereby lifted bodily üpout of the river to nearly a level with the'floor on which stood Baynes, still holding Kate Conway by the arm. and apparently endeavouring to throw her over into the water. Making a desperate spring, Frank leaped off the wheel, caught the side of the open window ащ! scrambled in. "Now, villain, it is my turn 1" "Ha, ha, ha! follow me if you dare !" laughed the unhappy youth, as, finding his plans foiled, lie leaped out of the opening by which Frank had entered. Egerton saw the foaming tide close over his rival's body, then he turned his attention to Kate, who had swooned from the excitement to which she had been subjected. He knelt down by her side, kissed her lips and cheek, calling her by every endearing name, he could remember, and soon had the pleasure "of seeing the flush of consciousness returning to her brow. In a few minutes more she was able to sit up, and then to stand erect. They then began to look round to find some method of escaping from the mill, and also to see what had become of Baynes. That young gentleman, however, was nowhere to be seen. "How are we to get away from this horrid place, dear?" asked Kate, who clung close to her lover, although his clothes were dripping with water. "I can't think for a moment. But what has become of Baynes, I wonder?" "Drowned, I expect. I saw his head strike against the wheel as he jumped out." "I am afraid he has not met with any such good luck. You know, darling, there is an old proverb to the effect that those born to be hanged can't be drowned." Kate laughed slightly. All her courage had returned now that Frank was with her. After the King of the School had looked round for a few minutes, he said— "I fancy those planks will reach the shore. If they won't, I must swim out and put up the bridge again." A short spell of work convinced him that ho was right in his estimate. The planks he had alluded to formed a first- rate* bridge over which they had both passed, and in a very short space of time the young folks were on their way back to Ballsbury, Kate telling Frank as they went along all that had happened. CHAPTEE XXII. LEGAL ADVICE. Fr\nk did not remember anything iÇbout Baynes's boat till he reached Ballsbury, and betrau to tell his tale to the sergeant of police. ÎThcn he remembered the circumstance. A constable was at once despatched to söcure the craft, and find out its owner, who, no doubt, was implicated in the plot. When the man reached the place no such boat was to be found. Strict search was made for the body of young Baynes; but although the drags were used un- ceasingly, it could not be brought to light. No "one doubted that the young ruffian had met his death in the stream that had witnessed so many of his villanies.' A man, supposed to be the boatman who had aided him in carrying Kate away, was soon afterwards apprehended and brought before the magistrates. When told the charge against him, he simply : smiled and requested to' lie allowed to communi- cate with Mr. Batcmam ah attorney very much sought after by thé criminal classes. Mr. Bateman,, för; thö defence, called upon Kate Conway* to sweai* that the accused was the man who had been employed by Baynes. * This the girl "declined to do, though she felt convinced, in her own mind, that he was the guilty party. Still, remembering that it was nigh t time, and that she was dreadfully alarmed, she "declined to run the risk of accidentally, perjuring her- self.' "To the best of your belief it was this man?" asked the lawyer, ""'1" "Yes." <(Now don't you think it might have been tlds individual or this t" As he- spoke, Mr. Bateman waved his hand, and two men came forward from the body of the hall. Both, strange to say, strongly resembled the prisoner in dress, figure, and countenance. Kate was perfectly confounded, and the more she looked in the three grimy, cruel, but stolid faces before her the more was she puzzled to know which of them had been her companion oa that memorable moonlight evening, ж-- P.OYS í)F EXGLAXI). (M .'.V i. ifp ROMANCE OF FRENCH HISTORY. ï'/r '!■•• л •:, о '" Гл~: л v e.4l a;b' .4-.., &- . ) . j-*; > ' ь\;; j;'" ,í;;l to tí IfilÍOlP V*' 11 .л- i- _ '. И lb у. О WaVb К 'i' Si, '•S ?a< no j ;i; ; м г ;eu;* о i а ■%,•<,<■", ¡, ! v pa ta-- !(, î (,.t hi • po»p i;,t ;ií:,.t » í Wnn i aú\>\ a! T >b aaas, " '' p :i» ; - l,va v.' Tin; urbano luv* yrt\ ¡,i\vc,.T, «ady ШОГе, "Yon ант d ere." an jüe.na! ae'b.r,, o; iba j-piio-," win (a , I t ■ i *" tip -bayer, ¡¡n* ?иИ'Г ем»ЫаЫе who Ья<{ Ьи'Н с;»* ta «Чк i : .И".: baaneo ado í,,a. manv v:oer¿ - V- !.,vi. Lana Uí> ум;;::.; ПСПСС Г' oe* While yoe, w-Tf* ní'terdue: ю *Mtk< < bnavav h< r iíUí,>i Law rb-en i'i мл- ,*nifaeef .ittd >i î1 I'".' i.'.* oaob, I j УО Uni tb !l b¡< V« ГУ t!;!,-:y to Г<;,4« i ! ban noai, ш Wiiiüii, wiiíi ü .4WÍÍI eiitTeut ia hx; "!b H «i.» yon m,í ppo><- — .he . lie is Lidbg" abv'.l hete: ... . ^ - , .mi . I xboiúd Uardlv tiiiiiк . j . .>Г Ииго П ¡'he Г"("ао1 ц : s •. - * I, ;tr,«í x.'í;sl i, ííf:• -г thi. \vi;;.'|í i-.jivÍ!H'' ;\\' t'-p ;(iUMi3*îi1---I hbaíl ?" ПН - Д b.'ty; y b* ^; ,» yo-;." f'}.!i<-J Ыг» Ib'iU-iíi;*;;, *" i :( b./ t M! Í!.' 'í -И I'iViiit/' A ru;,; «/f biii^bter. H: nbb'b t1 % < * г f !b" Ш;1" 'л* ^ (fnto jrinecb niíide the pnbc^ir.nn тл^ге 1йп-:П« }¡,^- í'V;y;y [v^'Tt.xIJ a* i î í í it Iîl- îï'J fit b.'H '¡.'jíí'.-.'y 'i'»," lu íb.; П\м*ПС OÍ Ji î :b .'t ; i; .y i.;b'""ib lÜ .• *' Ib-;, * i- your т'жсу/' i Iw, *• N<>-л- b-r jbin íbü %r/í.i ':;L'' ; тли*,." b' '"';4\ *M Vrííii;;ly." suit! Mr, fbb"n:rj:, 1 - ,-íbfyir î bt* lf' <:'¡>ln bi !v»'*", íi Iíh f « ft ' f b, "Tbr '.bb'.-r cutí tab" <т,Ы*г n;' s Ht' jru'ü in!«» ''y^î> niy, ,-'«y .'íu'íiti'iy, bnt m'ííji;»' л, jtp; «rrbcîîdl b in ab ,b * ^ A:,! i;ií'"l tb" ¡Snauish marrí;n,r< <*u', ïîi;-, '" i U 4,и,1**« « , , Ali oM î.-MÎr had i'^f. is»'î liu.-líiUi*Í, íUíU «m tb'cîav ut • ,7a *' u*\ 1 м' -V . ,.. r 1 « 'ib; -лч-rtby «•гр'П.пи аГм-г ''.^и^ш;|, tbn f^nnrai Ihm- 1нм-/},Ь,жг, w»;r.; .^.'ucwhat. пш-Н-шИ^г-а! : иг..и;и', Kmii« 4i; Ыгап1ш, u.vu^t î,,- v, ьа:1у bccbii«./«l t.> haw anytir.ii:c f-мЬ ^^b |;н- ;(pp,,»ria-at Un* mullir*. 4í Xabby." :-ítíd . Frcî.-'ie I'íhíhí M-п^Ш' ni that tum*.^!. id* b.< «ИЬи-, m id ко the case cainí» to an end. « a few Ktitche whiî** th« g«ith*:riiig м taking place." | ¡»n»-ra»í*ít and was iiiitibeii convicted Oi" havit»4 ¡•r;ml r«4)iinï Kafi- Ьопич and, аГ.ег я teinh-f . д Ье> "гг и ¡<: то Yotwa; i л Dil«.— Have a good î •4il'-;'1 ior ^ijutity for bis own î'atbrr. ¡rlUnu ' 'turned U) Lr&ii* m i%*V, i v'VAm (>r !iM¡V,'4 ш Ь;,те a dreadful colds At t.) и; ,v,i:ii'! ïim.-jt Ь-eame known that tb< Л Mir; ■vim- w!b in .store for nhen r<*«jn«>ted t-г «Л în^ bt'- ri- г, иг Цнщс Hi:*'!»Jary, bad Л b-f!' г '.vas îyincr цр«,р ):¡, do-L. liso ;и:Ьг»л'"''« a w.-ddia«r. »Sor-nua a< a, -pabaa bb'vi-r bfv»a b lbo boja had -adía n d louitd b> b-b r,"ba-f when у hi an- >Г";П'.г ;o bbaP Miad уыги-е j The « Ь «vaaniaanob,' Loáis f'hiiíppe a* tac ebw al b., be- bay, ищ nvo-. jn/^d íb" Üorid p-.a- 'f' if Jî,u I;k" У'пи' Р^'Ш-г, Abjuro_((f W;i;, ;;1 :i v-rv ааощаЬаа- posjîaai, baa i«,;?;,bo-," j;a;o-b .,п a '.v.'td»y. bb,, ynbrui ю lao-y nv baí.¡ v. h(i ,f |f ji4Í <( p,1 jtv ¡,, t h- * baaab ^ Tob tb- reaoer ao ba^T in atayota, ?b - {;'''1;^ч li^dmiiota ^ ^ul-агн bd if yoa -'«;b;:¡Jd-; i о,, ;L, Wo aav ia bbe,:boab Ibi'a. : of baaiaa,. ui. : '«'• fi"!ri '' boabiaa /м-Гш Г'а^;ьа'^,а!1'а if ' уои^«^аГи11 , WíÍ4 ^^nabí.d d bulked by ?be aaiaea b'eebi 'ao ,-aao! amount oí oarîoaa v to ba*av («Vr,lt 4 „t4l u ,j * * r wasted tie- Oovornntein .bad saea aa ?" 41 V'i4 h" ib'tVl!;; Tî' :t',,Hiî' Л 1" "A ^i'NTbHM^N «',; Alabeiaa in -.-Плац bondit aao,tni of patronage ibat if waK „ -ow ео'д ne laat a-o^Io еч.,ч„ Iba ало-гу ми, d*v, f.a ;| ,si» Xa bu i tad *i his brow grew ¿lera. . .».»oos to medicai *кШ, ь»# pn^ciibu íur him. 'Хим ¡ üutiuii. The ba," . f the Jeber wa.> t !¡re:;teaia'.r, and ' П'-цто, leivbapnv.-.a.baao-i! iЬ»« raa-r» prepared and « Ьгл'а.Ь',- bois, 1 ho people of Frauke, were un- ''nid. v.as not ае,сЫошоц to haabva; threat H :t'hainiat..aaai a tU«r Ui> palb-rd wit b th.- ota а-л".,. ; »rn>i, , t a! h.-i/ia-y that Luids l^nibpp'- ib!"!>î ♦ dad',. eontbkaa:o 0f u .|M., rjy i;,jj-a N'-i relief es- j|v Mil р}:И.м fandiv a^randiseiuont ;;a. (i raa -.aa-bhimr in tiie bbbaviO"' Mvîe !ifbd":ir",!' how-v.a, tb* -'.aatb aaai yea', for a [ i]u. |,;fîii)>llfi jnm.oa-s wliieh "had brote-at i.ooa, -Ai а. Ьл;К1;То.а,- N.. ,'u.r.H v.a' P0f -d rv !'Ьумсь.:а ;л ■ ... .„. ain^aaa aaoaao d et tan i^;vy.1]lt. 4,;rt|ajs murr;;i,p,,aved tbab, i:y wa- pro. von wiO baa! thai *i lot br о |o I, k'b;,lJ':; ,!;г;,>'" i:; y\v; !i lS'4 ¡J;ií,T; -'n>'H>d í!a av.- aa y ana ami of oda пш in»-îm-,- to о-аП, >hï ¡anea tae i advaneo Uno }''!i,'<"'d :daa, \ on bav- ¡¡onbbi'd ine !í«L ( i.bVb^ hbb „:у. "•'^ 1 " •« {«'-' i -".'-; ^"'-.iMsph. Kaleíp,;,,,: '.>ví'v> г.'1.:!,^';;;^Лм^/а!пмГто drávJ ^- Aívrb'i-b- Foae-b nraa^ ;> o.aa-ara na;o <'-,owa\ .aaíí .'av. r b> yocsaab-, ^h,, ruí. o,4,b!e,r, i} ,¡ у л,.п, t0 „ицр«г nu b' ! f-v. :- -Г íor? :>.a Мао ro.s « a-a/a, -^ana^íoi; "I i, ИЛ YNta-'d* j, Tía'panait, - o-n'a .»iiy î.^^v.., . d, j in an at-uek l í lo;-* 'л auo;-htr |oay '.' ¡y au.,r coolly stuoped for- war*h V*si'vr ,vh¡ oofa- j#r»aty W"ia'' >aíd Ьь; 44 bat f h*:rr in огЛ> '.v.- lu ь, Ht Mo '\»ad ars<> rar* nl;o^v h; iL- o":- j'.aa /' "1 u,l. л';,mit f!,!»4,., " ,n'a!"iv'ä jtubsa har. ,..:f. d'h-" h'3ч.'д 'ч vv'jooOrr í h< у arr, aoiiit y:tai¡h* i *lnwu," oruoií'í;:)! î 'ro.o;.' .h >;oi.! îhu\.",r,a îno h:¡ p'i,\ n\ ¡í,,. Aîvi / !'дг<\ wb«»! o'fid'aa;^ « .«'■« <; far a'OÎa)*o :a:a ii-.b'Hiy. 'чр :;í,!v' udjîibO'H híb hovv *a¡b ,irí'"H, t<.-d; aha. aad.d*<4 >vo/h j i-.wh waiîh- : î . л »oh <;i, :o.a. la,, агооа, -da ï a ia.O'r/; î,!uii ol R.>bia, whioii iiaO hat àu, )>vA:'--y*; af f!;».:1 arao'iya! гауг> Ц о'*-; = ''г''Л <-d\ a;o,l ih-.-d a ô'îf hrady Í ,o î 0" rr.j- r* (,f iibHilu r í aj'-ya :¡1;oí o y ¡íá.' ft'ínü la ï 1 H' taurn: iba: s¡> ihr h(,a^ A uro ti:»; vo'tuf i.ty caytivity in a *"bi,; ) t.io • <:h' * к u> hr, ;.,atioa via^ W'obt h o yívc ít yua i-» f. »f'O'ya yr: -„ t;bs ;a cytod a; av>thur— ¡ irOO'O', Лb a yon, soy bnh Ahhaîj yov'r ay y¡o¡r' <:aabo„aiíük with a yaod grarr. Ii K-ihiii JJmikí did; turn ant your pockets ía" tha funr.it, it served you; right;'' Tarsia,! -.'Mo ,0 g..; I Jbavíi with raro !" ее"а<;Ы from ai! gifcn at thi^ nnpnraiiclcd bit of plain speak-. a;y rorrr«-/â f-íM'h. M<»a у,гаг-д:ч цаеея/' lia added, bou 1щс to Uie queen's liaikry ■ a.> r.bh-'l iVum thr ьиш-гоан i hbíb / f hha, -111 aaa-oy yoa!" rb.^a ta- ta labia oral ''h- b,h:r a a, «: W.-.a 44 h : Л, aav V a vosa* ¿a-a,, b or'- r! ía; aal< ;* >a iabív", ;a,al, ,~s, h.oíhaaba b./ hice wM i*uv<'í¡S"d. "di'j«; bhb-í 'M *' hoUboi r;i í-ybrdy, '4П;а*' íV'Trt" ao I" rrvh o\ r/yhody o rao k- líí • oí :yay íaaa.rbt !"? «•^..•b.ataol ab' thh ro?f. u Ibo-ioto! a lid 'la- »{ o-ria wiih a ara\'aa «.«f j'1}'- \ V ■, my fri«-ahrt aad'^ib,^ ; a f,balaba aah ofír-i*- aar,'' rwA tho traa aja/ai ab b ,abíorrr ;'а>гц a'Û ао/ао. Ii - íaa aïi h,.;-- га/лау and drawu¡,t ibau^vif ay- *' íLirhar'b- hïut,n>li a^'aa* í I rorayrd yi-oa. íh.Utk • ta и1»о^1лЬ;}/ m'A a iaoa baio tra'n.ai'd h.'0>;/> ■h t,bar 0' :oy ^a, anl ia | nriioaba* branny of tha littío , aaiv oí h ola a ílood aad ha » гаоа, í' thought ^b.ú r aar'.I hr a ood lark и.- toakr a. a hid in tía? wood- , witii íaraa ial-yuauty; ií:a-«vd* üa t% faotaaa'lao í ! rao' '.a.yrd .aaoa; baaà' whh taaaa, litad, uü tho4 ya ocal ocoradon, yon }>c;rc<,bor í hat ыу аоШ|ДаагС aa' rr-'ihrb г»; a iVaHaT • ! LO!" "I da,! b abad lashiy tho li rat yri/ \V"d, I'd loi yoa oí!, ibí4 íííioa «/aly ho taircfo; h.ou yhm} and yyv*o him tiai two caiiallo-dicka, and yuar тогу bort hi'-.-hyr,'7 ' I dlio baho»,., g lud to l a latoiï at ihm yrioc, ov«a*v 11 via a hou»yf jaa .^ ,.i-î'm hio^od if didn t! •* Baroa dr Uuajaoa you aui.aaio dato/' t (Vor da iaoo. 'aS^y, * Id ..a you? Juy cliddrca' in Kobia and \5.аала/' ** \\ it'll H''l ыу iraoaa ^radra-í к ira//' rc:-| «что. 1 od Sir ïiuyery dri:¡(hicd tu think that h« would ahí* bo* ídloma-d to koop iua head in tho ri^ht plactí—oa liia Himulà- r.<. d'hoa, from anions tho o^roup of га>Ые dao]"5. turbia, da a-,cd in í.ao fiyO^y of faída-O'y wa.í 1 d íordt ta> rnaavr, tho r<»ys', ¡,ai oao-ritai h» ardiObaia Wal >глгЬ t,t, and î.i.o 1 v*-':y ÎVhaa-,^ hlosar^U-o &ad AHau-u-íbir- nao ib- Ь« л^(,у,,чу Adr.by^? íhooadit it. ja a fch^ahao; ?a ,< So yat аГаа ayyaar- ;aao IsKí'ai,'»a araí fay o; a fb( с-лии üi froía tnr rayhs yia^rfar, î ïo a a Ь a. «"Vaib hr hardly krarJ irons tho aaiv-oab draa.say. "A.-; for Ibi;a" J anybuijy, I biuil ooab..(o.ar ua.ir ULk ;iad c*U»tí* to tia; ri 'bîîbb iübia ötalid fentfi liobm Myod—litfi oí ЦтШч-r don!?' So that wme nettled. »яё the ortitain of nur hífbo t i na _ ;h, vw,,» Îr-atî! ^-iaa-'-a- a--, ,.a-i f , aaia? \ tia- uaa-V î»b.i:»-;s'i a ;a f .vi/).':• as- aiauai-a i a'^a a*aS |iiaa:sad, plav;a. .a*aa, , a ama'a <«f aaaj-i -a' u[\ ij,,; j tía '«« ;aî <•> Í ':, r «-, ^,¡. ,м, ,, „t—. Па a, дн ai orb-.- tbr a-a: • ' и|'ar¡ t'a'/i'i-rr'a.vfi. ( a-jaaa« аада L "i "I Wiait waa щи»!,-: \\ };,, muí \v..ai '-va-: bí>: .'i',, a- t;u.at,a:u< d.; I l'ai- a, a • IÍ fällst;:; Wbaf \\,ш1мн,ч^-;; How mi; h j oaktd- | aaau'-y lia< I be?'; ' ""~~ Sia'!,¡ wf" amaii^ tin; <\v,<-s\ U,tm w'ba-a wcav; (»\'av ;H ;l w„r?l iih: ha»* íu.«ú.'nt, f rr»;«,<î" •ап'л'.а'.-d apa! ¡ana aaa '.\aíhm ¡ •••!■« «mí,. Ь' J! ""ia".a;i,-; h.\r"Wi\y, I \ Sauí.Xi.aa aaa ána ",.a-/( adv.-rt ;..-d f*a* a baiaíin r j,, .J;!Í<,: v," M U-h* .мп«'!у kuaiv/ y.»ur imiti'.a"' aa,al oiu» : bMjkk«'<.|„îr, n-r.nv.-d а Ь-иии,аПу чд riii-aa 'iaava' , Wh'-îi íha -ia-'^ra bad \vi! '".ar':i*»va, ¡r u1 i>",v. .-fa^aaaa'')'- I <'<'*'''« '« y^irn;: nan whu iiv«.*n-«td ; a:ii b-- w:i.4 *• у. •■•и' : ra>ai\a-a thaï a ¡'n-vannai ( ¡ovaa aaaaa hIí* »* íitíá.arruv^ ! ¡r fVraa'd, ;ia: 1b" í«»n.bv;:r: v v^ms *' >íy nam's" !"(• crií-d, »• i-, Hj,; Uirl,*ry » aiccaa^l w i f а а«->а ,aaaf нн.н и i iaaaaa-га «d ¡ a1 a;i.',;a lar ,и 1 i'.îa>v/. Пит*- и,.чу ам? '>а>а !.\mv; "Ги?! ;-<>ц v-П га<а а1-}" -а'/ьа »ааа?5. каналу, hap-aa, Лга-.'о, {>•♦ Laaaa'ia.a' * .а»- а;а von «л Ьи а^а aaaayf«, шина Iha J :д fi j f,aa îiaa >I r. i' a,: - Par^, 1 Jy ,p,, .* i p, п ]((.» p \Pa'a , aaa ií! î fa- м!пч-; aas v, •ab? ^a,a Ir " a f b; i a-, v ;i ar-ía a. J ',■■! ^ '}»■ ',, . ab ;a ï í-»' ai,; pair y i a¡au.ü.. t mí a,a:-a:¡í .r-a4 326 fllAT 1, 1S70. BOYS OF ENGLAND. TOM LESTER: OR, THE SECRET OF THE RED POCKET-BOOK. By the Author of " Вов Luíiley's Secret." CHAPTER XXIX.—{continued,) HE new landlord of the " Dig- gers' Rest" answered Tom civilly enough. ** Tere be drays going down to-morrow, and ze next day, mostly always. Теге be goot honest fellows going down mit mein own dray to- morrow, and toy zall be glad to have your company "What time do they start ?" inquired Tom. "Tere is one of zc goot fellows," replied the German, pointing out a brown-faced digger, heavily bearded and whiskered, who was smok- ing a pipe over a bottle of pale ale. "He zall be able to tell you all you zall want to know." Tom crossed over to the table at which the digger was sitting, and was soon put in posses- sion of all the information he required. Lazarus would furnish a suitable box for the packing of gold, and Hans Wertheimcr would receive it, and charge himself with its safe custody until five o'clock the next morning, at which hour the dray would leave the door of, the '* Diggers' Rest." Tom accordingly procured from the opposite store a small deal box, bound with iron at the corners, which he shouldered, and carried to the tent, where it was filled with gold, and the lid screwed down. "Now, Snow, my boy, you shall help me carry it to the * Diggers' Rest,' " said he. The extraction of the gold from the quartz excavated during the morning occupied some time, and the sun was approaching the horizon when our hero and the young negro set out. The precious box, safely deposited at the "Diggers' Rest," and a receipt obtained for it, Tom and Snowball refreshed themselves with a bottle of ale, and strolled into the camp. Most of the diggers had ceased work for the day. Many of them were preparing their even- ing meal of tea and damper, in front of their tents, and the red glow of their fires upon the white canvas, and the columns of blue smoke culling upwards, gave the camp an aspect even more picturesque than it had worn when our hero first beheld it. Round one of tbesc fires, half-a-dozen villan- ous-looking fellows, wiry-framed, sallow-com- plexioned, and enormously bearded, were playing at cards. They looked up as Tom and the negro passed, and oar hero fancied that he saw one of them nudge his nearest fellow, as if to direct his at- tention to them. "Dem nice boys for a small tea-party, Massa Lester," observed the negro, when they had passed the tent before which these fellows were reclining on the grass, smoking cigars. "Some of the scum of San Francisco, that has boiled over and reached here, Snow," returned Tom. "Where de gold is dere will de scum bile ober and Ъе gaddered togedder," said the negro. "Dat is what I hear chaplain say once; least- ways, it \s somefing like what he said." "Well, we will get back to our location, Snow," rejoined our hero. "I have no wish to come across half-a-dozen such fellows in the bush." It was now growing dark, and the resolution was a prudent one. Robberies were becoming not unfrequent on the gold*fields, and at this period no police force had been organized, and the diggers had to rely upon mutual protection for the security of their I property. \ Parties at a distance from the focus of attrac- tion, like Tom and his companions, had not ( even this resource, and depended upon their seclusion and their individual means of defence. Our hero and his sable companion reached their tent, however, without encountering a single person after they left the camp. Just after daybreak, however, Tom, who had risen so early to get some coffee and damper before setting out upon his journey, saw several figures emerge into view, at a distance from the haze that covered the scrub, and proceed towards the Black Forest. CHAPTER XXX. THE PERILS OF THE ROAD. The haze which had covered the scrub at day- break was dispersing before the rays of the morning sun, when Tom Lester reached the point at which the track to Melbourne was crossed by the stream. It was there he had arranged with the digger whom he had met in Hans Wertheimer's shanty, to join the party who were going down to Mel- bourne with their gold. As he looked up the road, he fancied he heard the sound of wheels, and in a few minutes the dray came into sight, escorted by half-a-dozen diggers/with guns over their shoulders, or pistols in their belts, the recent murder of Cock Robin having increased the feeling of insecurity which had been previously inspired by the'knowledge that there were men in the camp whose coun- tenances were very far from prepossessing, and who seemed to divide their time between play- ing at cards find prowling around the tents of diggers reputed to have been moré than ordinarily successful. "Hqre you are, then," said the digger,, who knew Tom, as the dray came lumbering up. "The more' the merrier I I have got your box on the dray." "All right!" returned Tom, and on they all tramped together. As they entered the shade of the Black Forest, our hero thought of the figures he had seen moving in that direction soon after sunrise. "Do you know whether any other party has gone down this morning?" said he. "What, with gold ?" returned the digger. "I have not heard of any other, and I do not think it likely." '' "To look for gold, perhaps," observed our hero. "I saw about half-a-dozen fellows cross- ing the scrub, between my location and the track, soon after sunrise." "Between your location and the track?" re- peated the digger. "Aye, going towards the forest," said Tom. The digger looked grave, and gave a low, prolonged whistle. "I say, chums," said he, "that looks queer, This being the opinion of all, it was agreed that a sharp look-out should be kept while going through the forest, and that, for this purpose, two of their number should walk a little ahead, and two a little in the rear, leaving three with the dray. Tom was one of the rear-guard, and trudged on by the side of his comrade, t alking of the prospects of the gold-fields, and keeping the dray well in sight, and their ears open to the slightest sound in the forest. The sun was high above the giant trees when the party halted to rest and refresh themselves, having brought an ample supply of cold meat and ale, damper and j;ea, on the dray. While they were thus pleasantly engaged, one of the three who were seated on the grass near the dray glanced quickly towards the forest, and then held up his finger. "I thought I heard a rustling in the ,bush," said he. The words were scarcely uttered when.a red flash streamed from amidst the trees, followed by a cloud of white smoke and the simultaneous crack of half-a-dozen pistols, and one of the diggers rolled over upon the grass mortally wounded. The horses, startled by the report, set off at a gallop. This probably disconcerted the robbers, who, fearing that the hoped-for booty would escape them, partially emerged from their concealment in their eagerness to stop the flight of the frightened horses. The two diggers had sprang to their feet as their comrade received the fatal bullet, and in a moment each had fired two or three shots into the midst of the group of robbers. The latter had fired at the flying dray without bringing down either of the horses, and now four of them—two having fallen—sprang forward, yelling and cursing, and rushed after it. They had not seen Tom and his comrade, and did not know the odds which they had to encounter. The advanced guard of the diggers had sprang up, cocking the double-barrelled guns which they carried as they rose, on hearing the report of fire-arms behind them, and saw the dray coming down the road at a gallop, and a cloud of white smoke rising amongst the trees. Letting the maddened horses gallop past them, they ran back, and were just in time to raise their guns to their shoulders as the four robbers dashed into the road. Both fired, and another of the robbers fell forward as he ran, and rolled over upon the grass. The desire of revenge, rather than the hope of carrying out the object of their expedition, prompted the survivors to fire again, and as soon as they had done so, and had seen one of the diggers fall, they turned and fled. Tom and his companion fired their revolvers" at the same moment, and another of the robbers fell on his hands and knees, but sprang up again,, and plunged with,the others into the forest. "Poor Will Raven has got his quietus," said one of the diggers who had been with the dray,, as he looked upon the pale countenance of the- digger who had first been shot. "Aye, he is dead enough, poor fellow," said Tom's comrade, as he knelt down, and placed a hand upon the dead man's breast. "Well, every bullet has its billet, they say. We will put poor Will upon the dray, chums, and carry him down to Melbourne. As for these fellows,, the crows and the dingoes may eat them/' "There is Joe Harris down, too," observed another digger. "We shall have to leave them here, it strikes me, till we find the dray.'V; Joe Harris; supported, in the arms of his com* rade, with the ЫооЛ welling from a round orifice a little below the left shoulder, was 'not yet dead j -but 'he could not speak, and it was evi- dent that he could not live many minutes. He was laid dpwn upon the grass, therefore, with one of the slain robbers for a pillow, while- his comrades hurried along the track in quest of the dray. After a sharp walk of two or three miles they found the dray, with the horses quietly picking the luxuriant grass. ''"'»' The horses were turned round, and driven back to the scene of the conflict with. the- robbers. "Why, look here 1" exclaimed Tom, pointing to a crimson spot in the middie of the* track* "This must be where.we left our wounded mate; and see, ttiere is'not one of the bodies left." ?* """'Г""':" They looked around m wondering silence; but though the ensanguined grass was evidence of the blood that had there been shed, and the sulphurous. smell of gunpowder was still per- ceptible, not a corpse was visible.. "This is a queer thing, chums/' observed,one of the diggers. * '\" "So it be," responded, another. "It seems to me the rascals that we put to flight must have returned and carried off the bodies for the sake of stripping them. Those, ^infernal Çaljiorhian Yankees would do- thaVfór the sake of .the to- bacco in a fellow's pouch." '' ",;?*,"> : • * Well, we cannot leave the dray while we scour the bush for corpses/' observed the other* "We must tell our story down at Melbourne, where I should think it will make a stir. Perhaps after this we shall get some police sent up to the camp, and mounted escorts provided for the drays bringing gold down," "I think Joe could not have lived many minutes after we left him," observed the com- rade of the unfortunate man, with a regretful glance towards the forest. Then they again set forward, with the same precautions as before, only they had now only one of their number in advance, and another in the rear. They got clear of the forest without seeing anymore of the robbers, and, by riding upon Mat i, 1870.] 327 BOYS OF ENGLAND. the dray by turns to rest themselves, they were by nightfall half way to Melbourne. Just as they were thinking of halting for the night, and bivouacking on the grass, a red light was seen flickering amidst the scrub some dis- tance ahead of them, and the driver of the dray bold the reins irresolutely, as he strained his eyes into the fast-gathering obscurity. "I think we will go on a bit further," said he, with an encouraging chirrup to the jaded horses. «' There is a party making tea and damper yon- der, and if we join them we shall be the stronger, Ъу so many in the event of there being any more rogues about." > In about a quarter of an hour they came up with the bivouacking party, and found them to be a motley group of immigrants on their way to the New Eldorado. The horses "were released from harness,, and haltered with long ropes, one end of which was attached to the dray; and the diggers sat down to make a fire, and prepare their" evening meal. CHAPTER XXXI. A CHASE AFTER YANKEE PALMEE. \ It was evening when Tom and his companions entered Melbourne, and the banks and bullion offices had long been closed." The boxes of gold were lifted off the dray,' »' therefore, and carried, into ilic principal ;- hotel, where alone the lucky/; diggers could obtain lodgings, and where, as:a matter of course, they had to pay an extravagant price for the áccom- modation. :,v H' It must not be supposed, however, that because they were quartered ih^he principal hotel,", and paid an extravagant price for their accommoda- tion, they were ¿í^ged in an extravagantly luxurious manner. On the contrary, Tom and three others occu- pied a double-bedd* *i room, the scanty fumiture of which was of the v*Qmmonest description, so great was the difficulty experienced in keeping pace with the constantly growing demand on the resources of the city. "Excuse me, my lad," said the oldest of the diggers who had accompanied Tom, as they issued from the bank at which, they had depo- sited the greater part, of the money which they had received at the bullion office for their ; go) d' the next morning, ^you arGyoung to have so much ¡ money, and this place is full of temptations—j fuller, since the gold discovery, than ever. Our chums are npt a bad sort of fellows, but they will have a spree ;now they are here, with more money than ever they saw before in their lives, and more to bß had for digging ; and they will get into bad company, and perhaps lose their money. Now, my advice is, keep your own company, my lad, and if you are going-back to the diggings, get away from here as soon as.you can." Tom thanked the man for this good advice, the value of which his first impressions of Melbourne had taught.him to appreciate, and was about to enter a shop for the purpose of procuring some of those accessories of comfort, which, in a high state of civilization, become necessaries of life, and which could not be procured at the diggings, when he was accosted by the digger who had -walked by his side during the first part of the journey down. "Oh, here you are," said he. "I thought you had given us the slip. We are going to have a gallop, and come back for a glorious spree at night. Come along, Lester." Tom excused himself, saying that he had some business to transact; but it was only by the exercise of a strong resolution that he resisted successfully the importunities of his companion of the road. He had an idea in his mind, the conception of which was due to his chance visit to the bush farm on the borders of the Black Forest, and its * realization, now that his gold was disposed of, absorbed all his thoughts. Having packed his small purchases, which included a lew books, in a black travelling-bag, which he deposited at the hotel, he set out alone for a farm situated about ten miles from the city. More than a hundred horses were grazing on the undulating pasture land around the solitary farm-house, and upon these our hero's eyes were fixed as he walked up the meandering line of cart-ruts which led to their owner's abode. "Want to buy a horse, sir?" said a stout, jolly-looking man, whom he met near the house mounted upon a strong, grey cob. "Aye, a good one," replied Tom. "Only a horse with some go in him is worth anything in this country." "There are some of the best in Australia, though I say it," returned the farmer, pointing to the animals with his riding-whip. "Cheap, too, as prices are now." The price of one of the best in the herd was soon settled, for though the value of horses had, since the gold discovery, participated in the general advance, it was still considerably below »what the same animals would have realized in England. "I should like that black one," said Tom, i pointing out one of the handsomest animals in the herd, "If I can catch him you shall have him," rejoined the farmer; and, taking in his hand a noose at the end of a long rope which he was carrying upon his arm, he trotted towards the grazing herd. As he approached them, the horses raised their heads, and turning round with a flourish of their heels in the air, galloped away. The farmer followed them at an easy pace until the herd wheeled in their course, and then spurred his horse, and dashed towards their heads. On they came, thundering like a charging squadron of cavalry. As the farmer approached, they.. swerved suddenly from their course, tossingi their long manes to the breeze ; ,but it was "too late." The noose flew from his practised hand, and fell over the head of the handsome steed' Tom had selected. : 'v" " -V A halter was procured, and placed on the animal's head, and then the noose was removed, and Tom received possession of his purchase. He was a fearless rider, though he had not crossed a horse since he left Dorsetshire; and, with the end of the rope in his left hand, he sprang upon the bare back of the noble steed, and patted his neck which shone in the sunlight as if his hide was black satin. "You are mounted like any gentleman in England," said the,farmer, as he chinîcéd in his palm the money he had received for the animal; and Tom had never felt prouver in his life than when he turned the head of his Bucephalus towards Melbourne and rode off at an easy canter. He purchased a saddle and bridal on reaching the city, which he purposed leaving, early the next morning, and, having ridden to the hotel, and left his horse in the care of the ostler, he dined, and then sat down by the window, alter- nately thinking of pretty Lizzie Fenton, and watching the living streams that passed un- ceasingly below.' It was growing dusk when he left the hotel for a stroll, the streets being then cooler and more free from dust than during the day. As he turned back from a walk to Canvas Town, as the encampment of newly arrived im- migrants was called, saddened by the sight of so many rueful-looking women and crying children, lie caught a glimpse of a face which presented a striking resemblance to the sinister countenance of Yankee Palmer. The man, who wore the garb of a sailor, emerged from a tent, and turned towards the city. The road between the camp^ and the city was unlighted, and the suspected individual was no sooner seen than he became a mere dark figure, hot to be distinguished in the gloom from any other. Our hero resolved, however, not to lose sight of him, and he followed him into Melbourne, without once withdrawing his eyes from him. The sailor turned towards the water-side, and Tom had to get nearer to him to avoid losing sight of him. As he passed a public-house, from which sounds of drunken revelry proceeded, ,the sailpr paused, and looked in at the open door. The light fell full upon his countenance, and Tom was convinced that he had not been mis- taken. Palmer entered the house and Tom followed. A motley group of sailors, diggers, and im- migrants was collected before the bar. ** Secure that man !" exclaimed Tom, pointing to the American, as he entered. "He is sus- pected of a murder at the diggings I" Yankee Palmer started, and turned sharply round. His sallow countenance had suddenly become- cadaverous ; his angular features more repulsive than ever. He looked at our hero as if he would have liked to tear him into pieces, but was probably restrained equally by the knowledge that Tom possessed a revolver and by the presence of so many persons. ¡ He drew his knife, therefore, and, as Tom stood, in the doorway, he made a rush towards theback of the bar. "*:7 He was probably aware that the open door which he saw afforded egress into a large yard,, enclosed by a low fence. Wounding the right arm of a man who at- tempted to stop him, he dashed into the yard, followed by our hero;and several of the by- standers." They saw him cross the fence, and then he was lost in the darkness and the cover afforded by- piles of timber and deals. They followed, hut not the faintest echo of his* retreating footsteps could be heard. "He must be concealed," exclaimed Tom, look- ing about the yard. "I have him," cried one of the pursuers, and at the next moment the American was seen to break cover, and bound a\yay into the dark- ness. -The man .who had discovered him had received! á gash in the face, and another in the left arm,, and hasteneçTtp.gct his wounds dressed, whilst Tom and the rest continued the pursuit. They could just distinguish the retreating figure of Yankee Palmer as he ran in and out amongst the piles of timber, looking for some- outlet from the yard. All at once they heard a yell and a splash and the American disappeared. As they ran on, the sound of the sea beating: against the harbour wall reached their ears, and. they understood the meaning of the yell and the splash. In a few moments they stood upon the quay, and strained their eyes into, the dark waters of the harbour, but Yankee Palmer had already disappeared. CHAPTER XXXII. A THRILLING ADVENTURE. At the close of a, hard day's ride .Tom Lester alighted from his noble black steed' at Farmer Fenton's open door. "^ The sun had sunk behind the forest, and the tinge of rose which the declining luminary had left upon the fleecy clouds was fading out. The farmer was sitting at his door smoking his pipe, and gazing .with a pensive air upon the unshorn flock that bleated in the distant pas- tures, and the far stretching acres of whitening grain. • " Ah," said he, as he looked up and recog- nized our^hpro. "How be .you, my lad? I be right glad £o see you, that I be; and so will the old woman be." Lizzie Fenton had run to the door on hearing' the sound of the horse's feet, and recognised the handsome young stranger before her father had doné so.; One look and she turned away from the door with a richer glow upon her fair cheek and a brighter light in her blue eyes, and fan into her own room. "Why, what is the matter with the girl?" said her mother, approaching the door, where the cause of Lizzie's heightened colour was apparent in the handsome youth whose hand her husband was so heartily shaking, Tom read a welcome in the little woman's smiling countenance, and hastened to shake hands with her, while the farmer called a lad whose sable skin, woolly hair, and negro fea- tures, declared him one of the aborigines of the I;( »YS OF EXí.LANJX i'OYS of f.nt;l.\N!>, л 2: 330 ГМАТ 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. rally ask. He had taken two or three of the brass rings from his fishing-rod, and was busily engaged in screwing them into the ceiling of the room. What was his object in so doing we shall вее. Having arranged the rings to his satisfaction in a row from the centre of the room to near the door, Freddy passed a long piece of thread through them, and secured both ends to the roller of a map that hung upon the wall. A final look round to see that all was right, and then our young friend marched into the dining-hall, and made as vigorous an attack upon the bread and butter and weak tea as though he had spent the morning in the per- formance of a variety of virtuous actions'. Professor Moeritz seemed to havejsome vague idea that he was to be victimised! When the morning,.meal was over, and the boys had returned^some to the play-fields, some to the school-room—he kept very carefully in the centre of ¿he apartment devoted to learn- ing, not daring even to sit down, lest pins should have been stuck in his chair, or some other joke played. "Just what I want," muttered Freddy, as he prepared for his magic. "Tell me; I'll lend you a helping hand if possible,'* said Fitzgerald, who loved a joke dearly. "You won't blab?" "No—on my honour." "Then stick this fish-hook into the crown of old Germany's hat. "Give it here. Why, you have some cotten on the end o| it." "pf coVrae. A hook is no use without a line." Fitzgerald, under pretext of asking some ques- tion, went up to the professor, and, when his back was for a moment jturned, inserted the fish- hook in the little ventilator in the crown of the professor's hat, accomplishing his work without exciting the slightest suspicion. A few minutes afterwards, while the professor was explaining to a few of the boys the princi- ples of the luindcludcs zeitwort transitivum (active and transitive verb), his hat suddenly flew from his head. « Wer bat mein hut Г (Who has my hat?) he inquired, looking round the room without being able to see the article he required. "I really don't know, sir,'* replied Egerton, who had not been enlightened as to the joke. "Here it is," said Fitzgerald, restoring it to the professor's head. Moeritz continued his lecture, but in a few seconds the hat again flew away. "Der teufel I" ho roared. "Dis hat has bezauberung!" (the hat has enchantment). Strange to say, it was brought back to him, this time from the opposite side of the school. Our young friend Fitzgerald for the second time placed it on the head of the professor, who in rather angry tones, exclaimed— "Now you all shall leave me. I vill not have one near so as to touch me." In obedience to this order, they all stood some distance from him. "Now, Master Webber," continued the German with a chuckle, "you shall pe at ze bottom of all this, but-" «* But it seems you can't keep your bat, Is not mine a better trick than yours?" "Yes, yes," said Mocritz, as he stared round and at last caught sight of his chapeau, which seemed to adhere to the ceiling. "How have you done it?" "That is my business, sir; but am I not a clever magician?" "Very." Freddy would not explain the secret, and for a long time the professor was in ignorance of the means by which the trick was played. The joke being at an end, however, more serious business occupied the attention of our young friends. They had to prepare for the half-yearly exami- nation, which always occupied the week imme- diately preceding the holidays. CHAPTER XXIV. Л DAY'S SPORT. One of the most popular games at Lexicon College was hare and hounds, the hare being one of the boys considered a good runner, and the hounds all the others who thought fit to follow. I suppose you all know how the sport is managed; but in case this should fall into the hands of any young ignoramus who has never participated in the pastime, I will just state that the scent by which the hounds follow is composed of small shreds of paper; the hare takes a large bag of this, and scatters it as he runs, being allowed (generally) ten minutes' start*of the hounds. The hare gives an indication of the course he intends to take, and where he intends to stop if he is not run down. On a fine Wednesday morning Frank Egerton announced that there would be hare and hounds at Harfield chalk-pits at four o'clock in the afternoon. Every spare moment the small boys had was occupied in tearing up old newspapers, exercises, and other old papers into "scent" for the hare,- on this occasion personated by our friend Lascelles, who was a splendid runner, keeping his wind for any number of miles. It would be a "Wister," as Marsham ex- pressed himself, especially as the hare had decided to take the race-course, and then get down into the village of Stratford, where there would be plenty of hot work foi them 'after their three mile chase over the downs, in the shape of meadows, plentifully crossed by wide dykes and artificial water-courses. ^ Four o'clock came, ancTthe chalk-pits were thronged with boys. * Professor Moeritz, who saw the concourse from the garden of the college, imagined that another fight was about to take place, and started with the laudable intention of putting a stop to it. After toiling, up a steep road for a mile or more, the worthy German came upon the group just in time to see the hare buckle a bag of the paper scraps over his shoulder, and start at a long, slinging trot across a stubble field, towards the high, furze-covered downs we have before spoken of, while Frank Egerton and the Earl of Pembridgc consulted their watches, and re- strained some of the younger hounds, who wished to be off at once. "You'll have quite enough running before you get back," said the King of the School. "Bah !" exclaimed Webber, " it is nothing." "You won't be in at the finish of the run, Freddy." "Won't I! Just you wait and see." "Wat is dis?" inquired Professor Moeritz, coming up at the moment. ** You are not at ze box?" "No, hare and hounds. Won't you join the pack?" "Who is hare?" « Lascellcs." "Then I will. Ho can run nichts mooch good." Egerton and one or two others laughed rather at this. They knew what sort of a runner Lascelles was, much better than Professor Moeritz did. However, after some other chat Frank an- nounced that time was up,, and the whole party started across the field. Some of the younger ones darted ahead at once and outstripped the more experienced runners, who knew that the pace had to be maintained for some miles. A heavy breathing told Frank that the German professor was keeping close to his heels. At the spot where Lascelles had vanished from their sight they found the scent thinly scattered upon the ground, and followed it right up the side of a steep hill till they were fairly among the furze bushes, and felt the keen, pure air of the hills whistling shrilly about their ears. Suddenly, Freddy Webber, who had managed to keep up very well considering that his legs were shorter and his body fatter than any of the others, set up a shout of triumph. His keen eyes had discerned the figure of the flying hare, about a mile and a half a-head, peg- ging along at quite as good a pace as when he started. "Forward! forward!" shouted Egerton, and the whole pack quickened pace as they dashed along the old Koman road, which ran in a straight line for miles. The hare heard the cry, and, turning aside, leaped over a wattle fence with a ditch on either side. Some of the youths attempted to cut him off by taking a diagonal course, but they made a great mistake in their calculations, and were seen no more during the chase. The fact is the hare, after crossing a turnip- field ononis right, doubled back, crossed the Roman road again, and made off across the fallows for Stratford, which village he reached about ttíe same time that the cunning ones found themselves at Queenhampton, a place about four miles in the opposite direction. Continuing his rapid career, Lascelles led the way across a huge pasture, in which a few stunted old elms were scattered about, and,, having dashed through the hedge at its furthest extremity, was lost to view. The few harmless cows grazing in this pasture threw up their tails, lowered their heads, and galloped about in a sad state of mind, as the thirty or forty yelling boys, who still followed, charged across the field; bub in a few minutes the pack swept out of sight, and followed the scent which led them towards the Stratford Water-meadows. Freddy Webber and Professor Moeritz had managed to keep pretty well up, and when .they crossed the road that separated the uplands from the valley, overtook some of the leading hounds, who, in their impetuosity, had overrun the scent, and were "trying back." . Scarcely thirty* out of the sixty original starters were to be seen, the others having given up the. chase long since. í Frank, after a hurried look at his watch, announced that they had done something like four miles in less than forty minutes ; not a bad pace, considering that our young friends are not professional pedestrians, and that most of them* have been hard at work "Gradus grinding" for the examination, and are consequently slightly out of training and scant of breath. Having well quartered the meadow in which the scent was lost, the cry of "Forward!" is again heard on the extreme right, Fitzgerald being the lucky hound to hit the trail. Forward they all went, Professor Moeritz* much regretting that he had allowed himself to- be persuaded to take part in such a wild-goose chase. There is good reason to suppose that here- abouts the hare found his stock of paper getting ehort. At all events, the scent did not seem so so thick. That was a matter of small consequence to the experienced hounds, who could guess pretty4vell which way the course would be—straight through the water meadows for two miles and then up a hill; but which side of the hill would it be? If the hare was very cunning, he might baffle the hounds very considerably. It was thoroughly understood that the run was to end at one of two public-houses—the "Fox and Goose," or the "Black Bull." These houses stood in different roads, which ran in almost parallel lines towards Salisbury, some half mile or more of stiff clay, deeply ploughed, separating them. Egerton kept on running well in front of the pack, leaping the water-courses witb ease, and firing every one with emulation; but all were not so lucky, and several falls took place, of which we shall have occasion to speak pre- sently. At length the hare was viewed again going right up the side of Alderburn Hill. Cunning hare! Would he bear off to the right, and end the run at the "Black Bull," or would he keep to the left and patronise the " Fox and Goose?" That was a question could only be decided by following the scent. At the moment that Lascelles disappeared over the crest of the hill it struck Egerton that in a few minutes time it would be dark. He May 1,18*0.] 331 BOYS OF ENGLAND. shouted to the Earl of Pembridge, who was not far behind, to apprise him of this fact. "I know it," was the response. "Shall we put the steam on?" asked Egerton. "Yes; let me come up to you, then drive ahead." Frank slackened his pace for a few seconds till the young earl once more was by his side. Each then drew a long breath, braced up his belt, and rattled up the side of the hill. "There he goes !" shouted Frank, and as they were descending on the other side they taxed their legs and lungs to the utmost. It seemed almost certain that the "Black Bull" would be the finish of the run, and Marsham, who, with Fitzgerald, kept close behind our two young friends above mentioned, dropped off to make the nearest possible cut to the haven of rest. Frank scorned all such devices, and pertina- ciously stuck to thç scent, knowing that if he could only hold on for ten minutes more he would run down the hare, and thus bring the chase to a close. He was fast gaining on Lascellcs, who, though lie had led the hounds a good chase of seven or eight miles, seemed almost exhausted. Suddenly, however, he changed his direction, turned back, and made for the "Fox and Goose." Thinking that, in the fast gathering gloom he had deceived the hounds, he slackened his pace, a fault which was at once^ taken advantage of by Frank and the carl. In a few minutes Lascelles heard the clatter of their feet behind him, but it was too late then to remedy his fault. The "Fox and Goose" was only about a! hundred yards distant; could he reach it before cither of the hounds?":; He would make a trial at all events; so hei "put on the steam," as Frank .called it, and started as though he had only just started from Lexicon College. 'r Unfortunately for the success .of his gallant attempt, his foes (for the occasion) were just as sound of wind and limb as .himself, .and they, too, increased the speed. 'v" Twenty yards to the house, but Egerton is not six feet behind him. Ten yards bore! Frank is already extracting his arm—two yards,only from the. doorstep—ah 1 a., Hand upon his' shoulder! Caught! Lascellcs gives up at once, staggers up against the doorstep, and as soon as he can? says— Well, you have had a good run for it at all events." "The best of the season 1" gasps Frank, wiping the perspiration from his brow. Then, without any more ado, the three boys walk into the parlour of the little inn, and order some mulled ale. The Earl of Pembridge feebly hints at a good draught of porter, but Egerton reminds him that cold drink, in their perspiring state, would be very dangerous. After an interval of something like twenty minutes, Marsham and Fitzgerald appeared, having walked over from the " Black Bull all five then sat till it wanted but half-an-hour of the hour when they must be in school, wonder- ing what had become of all their companions, and especially of Freddy Webber and Professor Moeritz. While they are wondering, let us retrace our steps and see, if we can, what has become of our fat young friend and the German tutor. Both of them found that the water meadows before mentioned formed the stiffest portion of the course. The water drains and dykes were many of them half full of water, and a short jump or a false step would certainly subject the unfortunate hound to a very severe ducking. The professor was the first to come to grief. He had made a leap and a good one, but unfor- tunately as he was in the act of alighting on the opposite side of the open drain, his heels slipped up and Hen* Moeritz went souse backwards into the water, which fortunately was not deep enough to drown him. Freddy endeavoured to pull up, but was un- 'fortunate enough to slip forward, and went J sprawling on top of the professor. There they j lay, sprawling in the mud, weeds, and water, i like a couple of amphibious beings rather than , Christian gentlemen. j "Ach 1 Mein Gott 1" ejaculated Moeritz, as at 'last he rose like an ancient river god, with a ! crown of reeds and water-cresses on his head. ■ " Webber, where are you?" "Here!—Oh! Jupiter, what a sight! I beg I your pardon, I meant Neptune, for I am sure you only want your trident to look the character exactly. Hi! Chawbacon, bring that pitchfork this way." The rustic thus addressed did not condescend to reply, and, having freed themselves from some of the filth that had encumbered them, Freddy suggested that, as they were both drenched to the skin, it would be advisable to quit the chase and make for Lexicon CoUegc by the nearest route, in order that they might change their clothes, and so avoid all chance of rheumatism, and other kindred ailments. Good advice, Freddy, but why not ask Chawbacon to direct you, for you have never been this way before, and may take a wrong turning? Freddy, however, was confident that he knew the way, so off they started. Both our travellers, who saw that night was quickly coming on, were aware that a hill had to be climbed before they could get to Ballsbury, consequently when Freddy led the way up a steep, miry lane the professor followed with implicit confidence. However, after a mile or two of stiff walking, they found themselves on the downs before alluded to, but at what part of them was rather more than Master Webber could tell. "Derc is cin^aus 1" suddenly exclaimed Pror fessor Moeritz.' r ', J ,f'y " A house 1 where, sir 2" asked Freddy. . .." See, see 1" v^" v And the professor pointed towards a spark, of flame at some distance. li Let us go there," said he, "unt see Ц dey can .direct us?* '. "Freddy assented, and on they walked, /ШЬ it became evident ^that the light did not proceed from any liouse;;but from the camp of;"some gipsies, who~vciy,'feequentry pitched their tents on the ;\vild hcathu: /: Now Webber, though brave enough in general, had a few cowardly points in his character -"for instance, he was desperately afraid of frogs and toads, and, moreover, believed that gipsíés travelled the country for the whole and sole purpose of stealing the eldest sons of rich gen-, tlemen. '"The author, having met a good many of the wandering tribes in the south of England, is able to state that they do nothing of the kind; they may be poachers, but not kidnappers. Freddy halted as soon as he had a good view of the camp. "Why, they are gipsies 1" he said. ÍC Ja Í Bohemisch peoples. But dey knows dere way about, ás your friend Marsham shall say. Let us go unt ask dem." Freddy felt just as if he had been walking into a lion's den ; but he did not care to confess his cowardice, so he walked forward, keeping just a pace behind the professor, however. Professor Moeritz, probably, only knew fear as a lexicographical definition, and could give no description of it from personal knowledge; he cared as little for gipsies as he did for unruly schoolboys, and probably, if the chief of the gang had offended him, would have commanded him to learn one of the odes of Horace by heart. As it proved, however, the children of Ishmael were extremely civil (not so their dogs, which had to be severely beaten ere they would hush their noisy barkings), and, when the professor inquired the way, directed him. A lucky chance it was, too, for our friends, for they had been walking the wrong way ever since they had been on the downs. The gipsies, however, pointed out the constel- lation of Ursa Major; by keeping just a little to the right of that, the benighted ones would be able to strike the Queenhampton Road, and get into Ballsbury by that way. So they lumbered along painfully across the furze-covered plain, then through a turnip .field. As they emerged from it into another miry lane, they heard a faint "halloo 1" some distance from them. Freddy answered the cry. A few minutes afterwards Crawley emerged into the road and limped up to them. The youth was in a terrible pickle. In forcing his way through some of the quick- set hedges, with which the face of nature was in that region adorned, lie had torn his trousers and jacket in a most dreadful manner. More- over, in crossing some stiff clay land he had lost a shoe (serve him right, the young fop, for not wearing thick boots like the others),'and, having suffered two or three tumbles, was plentifully plastered with Mother Earth from head to foot. All this he explained as Webber and the pro- fessor came up, and'I am in duty bound to say that the sight of his. forlorn schoolfellow cheered Freddy in no small degree. It was a treat to see some one several degrees more wretched than himself. Crawley also7 cheered up; being no longer alone in those huge, gloomy fields his spirits rose, and, as Freddy seemed to have forgotten their late disagreements, they walked along as jauntily as the state of the road and their wearied limbs would permit. So they trudged along till at last they came into the turnpike road. Then they paused, quite bewildered, for they had lost sight of Ursa Major, and did not exactly know in what part of the heavens to find him. Consequently, having missed their bearings as well as their great bear, they stood bewildered jOn the edge of the turnpike road, not knowing* .whether they ought to turn to the right hand or to the left. Their indecision was soon at an end, how- jcyer. "A rattle of wheels and horses' .hoofs .was heard, then alight was seen. •'The * Wheelbarrow,'by Jove i" exclaimed Freddy, The "wheelbarrow" was the epithet contemp- tuously applied to a lumbering old two-horse- coach that ran every day between Ballsbury and a town sonic fifteen miles distant. As it rolled along the two boys screwed them- selves, and made a run to catch hold of it be- hind! Freddy succeeded in so doing; but Crawley,, being less fortunate, had another tumble. Half-an-hour later Webber reached Lexicon .College just five minutes before the gates were- closed. "Crawley was, at that moment fully a- mile away. The gallant hare and the other hounds had been home some time, and, stiff and tired with their day's run, were sitting round the tables discussing the various incidents of the chase. <( Ah, here comes Freddy: now we're all in," exclaimed the Earl of Pembridge, as the young- joker entered the hall. "It looks as though he had been too tired to walk, and had rolled home,'' observed Egerton. "A nice crusty roll he is too. Won't even speak to us." "Where is your human kindness?" groaned Freddy. "A poor fellow comes in half-dead, and instead of sympathising with hiih you only perpetrate puns:of the vilest description. How- ever, if I am in a pickle, Crawley is in a worse." "Crawley!" exclaimed half-a-dozen of the boys. "Yes. I left him limping along with only one shoe." Freddy then ascended to his bed-room, changed his clothes, and got down again just as the supper bell rang. At that meal the head of each form had to present a list of any who happened to bo absent. The doctor scowled as he he saw Crawley's name; but at that moment the door bell rang, and the servant who answered it, returning, announced " Master Crawley." "Bring him in," said Dr, Whackley; and in another minute the hapless urchin stood before all the school. (To be continued, Commenced In No. 166.) inVS OF KNGLAXD. . a ''.<• w< i. In hiñe. тч: P nee ,, ^va.i? dreVv'f r ! ürnv-'ii î Îí<* fa'X' !П'''Ь! » t i in avi i en eaa eV, 1- Im.'.. Mt;î, and w-dia-d í>ne<*y' , -'-.i- *v/;.'í- M" i»! .: í Л- ,4 ttií !'.'!', whs i'< Л î . . - ; n > ■ м т lo ha- u'î.-'.i ie :« :: ■ .:.(!!('<• feeh«* í eir:vd .v î i»« ;c,} ^; :\ еаашыау is !» '.: Why .'с"?: <н !ad и- г í i - - •llî:!«'ï" » d !la' р*аЬеа :i ь • í "Т.ч.' en-, î ií 'ta- > :- с,- í küMW -a he îrned ! i • • b,. eV •-»' in y- i- .m -i 'bt ai -ее f a iV< I ami ím-'\ •;*'u much eavehad, 'Va'k I eareJb 1 \u » x?IV]y Ьла-V, ;:¡''i Wíiii h for aand t r nf у\ч!^ I Tí: ever?*! „иивИИИ—_б55», ! 1 ),"\-,'¿i! ШЁШШШ ШШв, Шт . _____ ^^^^^ИИ , Iii:.* I i'.'u! >c5)î i.M.-í ui Ь«л r;:c- : Al lí¡i- a bin-i i/í íiürrui' r:,i! I ! -, 1 I b- h < r;î» • л ¡í('i: l" Ii*- I í i и ;; i ¡. *.'¡.í" ¡ i "Miv ji- Ii» ou]* iii'.xi ;.i i,v ним- И <1гп;;к < !î ils*' i^nlcî.b» r-n«l ^œ|iP Tbe oonstemation thirt reîgneâ *w 1 ' 1 !,n•;;n »ani«<4 at hint J by the two men, he had stealthily removed the poison bottle, and poured its contents lato a irla** unseen by any other person. ( t _ The death of the bold, hardened ,lVn;.; l:' i 'Í UiiU'; , , , , ГииТ1,'Л1Т uF KITTY ÜULIiOüii- (SKß ^ BILL.") biüta ul' the CltóJ US VOillkvted Willi v,'iir-,ir>^ 1 hi,. ni.s fít-ак,, im* i..i."\v ;п;и. "An'« uhar. had / U> d«< with this Г* Miid' Гш< |»owfrful ehdms of th<> man who hud b*ffV- tnfî^-ît? Mb *f"*d Innkirtf at: onrh : ïscko, * Г dare yon fo thf* i-ivn-f/* 'su wMid«-faîh* r»îlurrie-î to the world were re I rh;i •■»,, 4 uad* Ihm! ihr tuí Ь'-:\ î ,n, alíd tía ^ , ^ > d/0" » íhj Titrante ; you wirb hf»r murder, a¿ weil хш the atteni;»tcd: •.rmrnlwm. í«* г*1гап4Г«1у bitiUirht toother a^airu >V VXvi . , iaai-der • this i>,.y. 14>пу it. iiyini can »г<1ц\:Г wrnt. down to the оЫ »pul v,hcre, at lwtöt." two ^\Vh« îmî угщ ?- ht îfîiçjrti !;я -^.b !и j l(,üí C;lîJ iXrA U U a ]¡t5 Г was il^?«,f ih,.w hud hwn bon.. } 1 am >«>Hr,i".V n.j.iïva. U/; » Thaiy-u will pr^v b-.dVr,. a jury of y«mr'w:i% and np.,n thai a anîa^ г-м-, and'then, ¡ ,"î ,obJ 1 j а ;!,!;!!:-г win.: and eluíd. !hi у ашт:шд, i eh;u\'** vt*n with the murder о Г mv: many strauL'e r.mf ha*/.ardt)u.s <--Teuts thai bati: Г>»-*^ »'<<' *!<,;tíb »'.ry,..i r»'p..rti-d к»., sind th.-v wibe Maud liarr-U!" «"id nocd-^biîtfo Mi;.v..you, Bu' t*,-band' A b-iifnl ^.-nvinVan s.,r-id arr>^ Taib'*H Id4iVii:eiM''e.. wn.;, :n ih'j t'iui, aîvvii\< рпп|ча.-. . IVe»\ aimo^t turning lis *»mbi*u enlour t*> an < ü.V.Mi !'»'-! «red iaa h» îî»a noiv.i î » asliv whitr. ,a y.mr títíílty head !,% 1 II- saw Hiat la; had played Ids fall card, »i ay mns tmm n-îrained the ; Lad ioht t!m eame.. _ , . t ач »Mr. ie.ired,;' said Mr. Stanley, """ V !|1 *' , ,;dd. í: ; >л \ '],-■ know b r bi¿, l'hiî V" •Рме!« h., iht hatí!': 'd Пие-V*' vía, , î^n.-a Ь a-, a .-iïïii-,v-b;d! e. Í va w as/,/, a a' î»'.''.' ae-vi- ¡-V h« *'* dvma'* ae1' a. vtra'e dan naa; trae ■ e.r vur ее -a,'4 >,a I lee e!a<'i «í P e; -'a,' . d ; d ,d,>vo„ bo^» iH'or. Ь*«' ¡rv?iа;.,»1 ЬоГ*»:а: îaaa yvb a.ad Ha îvl' «ara iba! Н/ laia!r--dv ba-i ^ -Tiiaíbí га.; ' Ьк,н;aa: bay i or boa,. i-'< -, ;.■'< bara \u- Vrai s vaaV"'1 a.- 'a . ba>' :!a,íV oííV" !«!а* akaa < • aaa"." o,;bv i , i ka bo.a- o,p.-: aab ,*' vboa aaabí bo !'a- ja-o-;■: a iaa;a,'.-'/a, mc.;bf ja-î' к ,< a t a<,a i.-- a,o ir di aa aro?" • ;* a>- a ;. i ::ao, У; a! ; <• whole world he could call bis fr О a ■->>-: lava," af-Vv" !' rr • i; 'I- a '' 'a a ha, :itU-v а о, k,. ',, , aa- .i,v • * . aa"'" :i' '11 ■' ■ ■' О ;-, У a ( i ¡< !: У, í •< I, ООО f í.» , aia, aavv' íí-b-íy fоУ/мгаа- к ai к ал ка- i-h î" a - '< a ¡ W'.y. a s'.'1 f на tao : h bib yi a Í : 'V/a,;.-/aa'ai a::a' :d a,ov-a "vaaa î.. ■ -a ar i aa b;aa, ha ■ ,,,. j , : ,1 ya-i t'/ a ! j.a ay il" a ah,; '* "* a. v, ,ai aa'*'»"-'; ''« aai la. a(o- о îk v a m a.a-kb-a , •(,!, a.- b, woi'a, ;: • v hao-r a 'Vi;-: \v,ï\ h, claimed the fattier, "no'such thing; it was A priest the other day, who was examining €OBÍinaiittoii-class in the South of Ireland asfce so wis ' enter to oreoare them for another'' aii better wo•îld.,' "Bein*,** said the priest, the ar "l booo- lav 'baav',*' .aaa abo prka-í., l' for aítvthín^ ■ ": г^"Ь»'гГ'.а" ya; , ; \ аа,- v ta ! a>- o.,atl'.4."\ *> >: ¡vay b- p.aíb-v 1 !>"V" nabt." < î a ; ab b< ía a b *ob4. .'ov1,,— She aavay a:a! tarions f>> j',o,v;»i"fi- aa-l кмкаа i natal-' flava a «^ntob; vabaarl H» fCOTO •a 1 h-aa 'i'ovar' la, fra'ao* "b-a y' ■'.o. y-v baab o;a brakí' ;!aV 'aay", V- « Л »•»• b-n,* aaf fvv<* S/iab-o |,Лн«! ; |а'уг^>'"?а oí¡ f Jw. »yaaiaT in vdn< tla-a* а*ош!»: vivad «b "XobamaaL > kr^ aaafa ¡yvír /! l now ado j —Y«.a bavo two Ьа^н tîatf, ааак''- }vvi a y;ar ¡ Ida b,:."v of «oríanoi fboa аьаг'каа! а!>ааМ!а |!Г(' !aa v: '-baa v* a d bobof oaaia'a-j o, b- ' "{ nu'H ' dba ,k'iar^ w.t-í boaa ay in profound i «f o'V v !* a-,.- faakoii oí ^hka* bi nlay b hnh^l aîîaa- ílay ba«! ya^.-b ?h„; baira-r-, ¡oía ly (- ïiîoî'o oaoaaîH ].';<ГП г fra,tía Л baayoaa .'tí'¡a'' ao loaw aa?, what íübd í.í?* .\ ;a,,V i o;a i? i a- taba!» o,t tk( ra. ai' :\n iiv-ot«-', «bau;! biy/' Dawn with í b-' baa.a'uawaa >aí- ta that olb-af, u'.'o .a-a 'y» Vahy i y' íbaa^ b ba, üad ív bat laaava !b-" bav;' a'nrvabk Idoia a r^voa! a- Ib ,savak íab oí í;v<-.> < vy va,-' «у ii;,avai ni î, ,k" taab i i vai;, o; ; j a a,s i f y o:' b' ■ • î -, ала , b i a/ 'aab jií-î b-< a a: ,4 Л oaaunvMAX raaî aaa- of ЬЫ í-hhtW т>т\Ъ>гч' "ffabr ^imbo^ г:и»»«Иу "airmmvl tb>\- >b"-.r«ld yrv waikaaa bonayfaaa vfomñt oav iav bay Ira! , ov-ry >íyn uf baaralîîa/ "khuw a a¡4! ty ¡ Tb* íd'iíd и'.ъ ]vaav4 ia a?a\ayv »as tu ,ih , in Ни Knabaj*-/ Ла;« :¡a , vbabs^ «ч vo-y aa а , o^oaao-av ,.raírayyd" which >*нага:Ь av-vahdo!« ,í!i liJ' raori'ov.a ;\b-.«a íba" a'bak (ííi iba balawibov v,v,rv,:r.lî<'iî' Ь-па'т! y cross m"S oí Un- i'r:;! lo i ub^aan/ a , :y I i".: ü,,í«I < 'o'ar b !.. í\v;t4 :,ui;. .) aaraj, aab J^' i h. ! • , t : bul ( 'o ;\v <'v 1 ,vu'? Si«-;tr» - ' . !<■'! ia ine \< ar !H;¡>. mhí ¡s 1 nv, : . ' í a<'. fк * :').<" F''» î"*' < t* t i,( u> ;,h i.v í '!:<•. i,« •!...<' Л« uís (-Í .\ : •'. i!:': < X;¡<'i • i "i i .y ;: í'< ,'î !;asi. hbí'fc»"! <¡ l y; ■ i, ■;. a'.'oíi ; :tuu i•!»; í )н' ï зtг.* ¡ «: , . i'Sr^h büvr î.;-;.! l¡':! ,' V// -i *. !m U tí.W!' oí' fv<'bf o ¡:- * w;,t... < <,'i»U)í(1*/b' ' a'o. ; , ппл'Ш W'.i'xo or Tin; лагиш.-ifí an ''Ossifia:: •-Г - ! nJ',-. :>r,r\¡y say l¡i;*f, íuWardw CV"!lifj^, ib* fí'íH»|,K •Г !«'< ,.'j't,¡ií; '.VT'í í'i Ьа^;-,--л1. >Ií of I uo --•n :Ф-г jíart ai" sir^ntra-vMs of *1м* ïio tai'ízeiit'í. v.f ILe AiclibLrílioj, of wui пНтт him t-. «v: и- la'^lia'aIj-îw.'-ti t!^ ihr anl;*-v ..í \%тк,и!!оч bv ï оц'ч f'i-ilif.u-' - 'им! Ufn' м.а .i-üh-. ,ф {.аа;аут «.ani)ataai4 i>vl:U яГ,,,г he с.чр<-Псп{ írmn b"r.,ac- Ы> Л тг-,^,:^4u;binv,.,;a uitr-b,,î a u, • TTa ï.ro.—],.J, t;, .vf.);v. о;;:Д :a ai, ча-r-i 'r.-iu:,*- h:vl ii^'l hilLn^ uy-Иа« :^^N-^îkfri^ v<-.!nir/n.<, nirj ^■•"h'bi ï»y ba îvô. Jf" m-i vi« mit. For il^bin:^ lîa- t/n-<] y^nyio of i^rmi ; y^ .V* 1*1- ' ^W-. - *" :'Д - -1 "' itY'iî^M^ Ь!*; ,'4V-,":,li*bf Г - ла1уаа<>. I.'ii a,oope4 to it-i very di^atisiied ai thtí siaie oí d-cuyíniu vi>i¡^r Iúuíhí iaai oesaaaí FcMck awaitm- to traa- : íí-i'í í;í! fa-aiia;»';!. fiakint: niyíd ,ЧгЫ*^ Л voraia;. Ьп •Лт*\ w-л- hum min*;, üu> !•v.-¡.< <••• aa-o , o.-'-u-i ••• a-,.., ¡ - .... , л. ..*.«*tít, ''Alt v«. í«í«1 u<í»Ír*vrtiMÍ lÏM*. íít other R<íe. i by two yetr? îaier, ;"; ■ <- *- « 3 ■ y - .!* ^a«i-rl ¡Ii\ wams -с mrú aj ai4>duci.4:,ljíf. r1 ^vín-u I * Tba tiity ta iíauon Is vory iaüoa'dfcly ■ . ■ . .■ , . } '; . ;':'" ^r "r ,¿ MKÍ'íouiy a drum i\CI v»-a^ l.eüi'ít an-l a shut w;*tí : wítb isirly Kngiieh Ычк-ту, ^ .r,'! ,7.'.^. Г ^ 7 ^'^цГ^кГГ- -Ir<'¡ For iiisiiinee. it wüs tbc coital аш! '- ^ - а • ■ '..-'.^" ''> / '-к > '. 4*. э Tbtî *'оь!,..'{ va г i'"!»/ l'-tí'ly rotîowvî, asa! . of Üm- I »uk^ of N^rmataiv \Yi!lí;m •" *' '"' -u^.^ , t"4 Um laïus, and íelL 1 Aítcr fco had completo!v subícetad this cOEiitry . jakéi. 342 [May lt 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. TOM LESTER: OR, THE SECRET OF THE BED POCKET-BOOK. By the Authpr of " Bob Lumley's Secret." That was all they said; and, after watching at the negras extravagances. "Now, what ari. them till daylight, the farmer,made them and you going to do?4* their wounded comrade mount .upon a dray, and drove oft to Melbourne, where they were safely lodged in gaol. CHAPTER XXXlI.—(co}iti?iueS). œpN a few moments all was still again Я throughout the house. II It was long -befóte Tom composed him- dsb self to sleep after' Ihis startling incident, which he related1 to the farmer and his family when they assembled next morning at breakfast. '' Fenton looked grave, and his wife and daughter turned pale, as they listened to Tom's story, "I will cart that fellow off at once," said the farmer, "I would Rot do that/' observed our hero, who had been pondering in his mind a scheme of his own. All eyes were turned inquiringly upon him. "What would you do?" said the farmer. "I should let- him Temain, and let him admit the robbers," replied Tom. "Goodness 1" exclaimed Mrs. Fenton, with a look of surprise at the suggestion. "Why, we should all have our throats cut, perhaps!" "Oh, no. The robbers would be captured/' rejoined Tom. He then unfolded his plan for the capture of the robbers, and, Fc'ntôh expressing his acqui- escence therein, he rode away from the farm immediately after breakfast. It was late in the evening when he returned, accompanied by Dick and Snowball. Mrs. Fenton and Lizzie retired at their usual hour, and then the farmer entered the lumber- room, followed by Tom'and his companions. The robber looked*up in surprise. "Look here, you sir,", said the farmer, "I know your game. Now, you will have to choose one of two things, cither to do as we tell you, or to be taken out at once and hanged on the nearest tree. You have seen something of that! sort of justice where'ou comer from;' I will be bound." - *,,r .*' *' "What is,this'£or?".inquired ,thc robber, raising himself' upon" one' arm/ and regarding them with mingled, surprise and terror. "I tell you wc know you," returned the farmer, "Now choose,- while you have a choice left/' "What do you want me to do?" inquired the robber. "Only to let your friends in when ttíey come, and to be silent," replied Fenton. "If you utter a word of warning, you will be shot down like a mad dog." "I am in your power," said the robber; "you must have it your own way, I suppose." "That is well," rejoined Fenton. "Now> wc will keep you 'company till your friends arrive, and see that you observe the compact." The robber muttered an imprecation as he laid himself down again, and then all was still, y ^ About midnight the dogs began to bark furi- ously, and cautious footsteps were heard ap- proaching the house. They came nearer—nearer, and paused under the window. Then a gentle tap on the glass. ¡ The robber rose ¿om^ns couch, and' crept into the front room, • ""■Ci4^e\' ¿tf/?'-,' ¡ V Tom and his companions Ъеда'чЙа*onto-'door, opened, and, peering from their ?amb'usb> sayr two dark figures defined against'thc-dim'-ligi^ \ without. ;V'x ;/ . *' Not a word was spoken.-. l. >>$'$fä The two intruders*stepped into thé'róom;>ántl their confederate closed the door^witkHhe simulated cautiousness with which: he had opened it. Then Tom, Dick, Snowball, and the farmer rushed,, into the room, and the jobbers were seized \ and boùpd, before they could; djçaw a weapon, or* : even comprehend tlie situation. * j While fronton was procuring a light the J wounded robber crept back to the lumber-room, not caring to meet the reproaches o\his betrayed comrade's. "Trapped!'' growled one of them,'with afero cious scowl at'Tom and1 his companion's; CHAPTER XXXIII. A DISSOLUTION OF PARTNERSHIP. It was not until after Fanner Fenton's return from Melbourne that Tom Lester quitted the farm-house, and rode over to his location, whither Dick and Snowball had preceded him as soon as they were sufficiently rested. He received at parting a warm- invitation to spend his Sundays at the farm as long as he re- mained in the neighbourhood, and the posses- sion of a horse enabled him to avail of it, as he was prompted to do by the feelings with which he was inspired by the charms, no less of-mind and manners than of face arid figure, with which Nature had invested the farmer's daughter. The gold-mine continued as-productive as at first, though worked in a very.im'perfcct and un- scientific manner, which did not allow the finest particles of gold to be extracted;^ defect of which our hero was fully awarer!b*ut did not possess the means of Tcmedying.?r y The approach of winter at length warned our three lads that their operations would have tobe temporarily suspended; * 4 - Drizzling showers began to fall,1 and both the tent and the excayatión grew more comfortléss every day as thé uncongenial season advanced. One morning the excavation-was found 'half full of water, anü the roar óf the fall sounded louder and hoarser than our lads'had ever vheard it before. Rain was falling heavily, and-water oozed round the lads' boots when they stepped towards the excavation, attracted by the pattering of the rain-drops upon the water which had accumu- j latedwithin.it. • I "All that is over for the next two or three months," observed Tom, as he quickly returned to the. tent. The. wet season has set in, and wiil last at least a month';1 and when thé weatherJ improves we fehall hoV be able to work till we1 have got a pump arid pumped out our work- ing." "What is the next move, then, Master Tom?" inquired Dick, with an anxious expression upon his brown face, now much browner than when he had left England, and with hirsute decora- tions upon his upper lip. "That is, in a great measure, for you and Snow to determine," replied Torn. "You have been a long time from your homes, and have not the motives for absence which induce me to desire, for the present, to remain in^Australia. You are both richer than you can ever have ex- pected to be before you came here, and I do not see why you should not return to your homes." Snowball's eyes4 sparkled at^the suggestion; but Dick appeared ta hesitate;'?, ' ' 1 "How much arewe worfch/Master Tom?" said he, after a-pause. l' •"Inclüding4¿egolpl in hand, taken at a rough estimate, over thirteen "hundreel pounds each," replied Tom.' t:" ." That includes ,that Üig nugget of yours, I reckon ?" rejoined' Dick. "Everything, Dick, according to agreement," said Our hero". *^J/- J • ■ f- -ä "* i ■ "But that is ne^vâirp&aster torn/,'protested Dick; "you gotïhafr:'nugget all'yourself, while Snoiyball and I were agleep, and that\pught not :jtôvcôuht to^us." "" 4"' .V'" ''/;But:you3iñow^Dick,-" returned Tom, "thcreV has*been%1íri^day7when I have ridden over to^nfóri's^ím^añcl1hav.e not touched .pick or hammer," * ":^;r' 1 . '" "Well, Snow arid I won't bê hard upon you, Master Tom," said D'ick, with a smile pláyíng' over his. brown face. "^Vo^now-that,big nugget counted for pretty nigh.half what, we have got. and so we won't take more than a íhousanó^p'punds a-piece. ЛУШ. wc, Snowball Vs,, * , ;' "Thousand pounds Л's repeated Snowball., capering, about,the tent.with open mouth and rolling eyes', What him like? Nebber hear'of^ so' much money before." "Be it as you will," said our hero, laughing *i Me go to de Cape, and marry Anna Maria Érown, a-nd Ublike genelman/' replied Snowball,-, danôing round the tent, . \u, Well, there is somebody besides the old folks that would be glad to zee me," replied Dick. ^ "And then there is the inducement of double pay for $he voyage home,. That is a, consideration you 1 zee, Master Tom. So, on the whole, I think I will; conclude to go back to Lyme, hoping zotoc day to zee you there, Master Tom." The gold and their implements and utensils- were packed,, the tent struck, and Tom's horse,, whiqh at first seemed inclined to resent the indignity,.converted into a pack animal, It was late in the afternoon when they arrived,, wet to their skins, at the house of Farmer Fenton, which Tom made-the end of their -first stage for divers reasons, one of which was the opportunity which it afforded of hiring a dray, which, with the tent converted into a tarpaujin, would con- vey them to Melbourne more comfortably and* quickly than they coula make the journey at that season by any other mode of travelling. "Well, to be sure 1" exclaimed Mrs. Fenton,. holding up her hands. "Was ever three such drownde^ rats ever seen before?" Tom shook hands with the farmer's wife, and while the little woman was according the like- welcome to his companions, he turned, with beaming eyes, to Lizzie. "You naughty boy!" said she, raising her glowing face and lustrous eyes to his counte- nance, and shaking her curls at him with an air of reproach which her smile and the tender ex- pression of her blue eyes contradicted, "to ^omc over, through such a pouring rain 1 I declare- you are not fit to be touched." ,, "I assure you," said Tom, as he removed his* dripping over-coat, "that I would not have in- flicted upon your respected mamma the presence of such a trio of drowned rats if the unfortunate murines had not been driven from their habita- tion and pursuits by the rain," ■ "Ah, you should have given up sooner, ..Master Lester/*-' observed.the farmer. J'There has .been - quitó,a,migration from the diggings during the last week, for them that was working in the stream found rather too much water. Rut then you aren't acquainted with the seasons in this colony yet, and did not look for such rain in May. Why, Lord bless you! this is the wettest month in all the year in Australia." "Finding that so, and our hole full of water," said Tom, "we decided to abandon the under- taking and dissolve partnership. We have been tolerably successful, and my mates are going to take their shares and work theii passages home." "And you ?" inquired Mrs. Fenton. "When fine weather returns I hope to resume operations," replied our hero.. "In the mean- time, if Mrs. Fenton will not find me too much in the way, I shall esteem it a great favour to be allowed to hang my hat up here as a boarder." Lizzie's eyes, which had been fixed upon Tom's countenance with an expression of the deepest interest ;4yhile he was speaking, now turned anxiously'towards her mother's. •y, I do,not know how wc could manage, unless we:;clcared out the lumber-room for you," ob- served the little woman, with a glance towards hei husband,Tas if torread hiá mind upon the subject in his good-humoured countenance. ; "That >iR.ido?capitally," said Tom; "and I;Will>;bririgV;up-;furö from Melbourne on .the-di^^ Mr. Fenton *totfake;do3vn "my mates;and our things. I hope J0ü^varé;qüite agreeable/sir?" "Quite so?Master Lester, quite so," responded theiarmcr. Lizzie's eyes brightened at this, and our hero, 'as he caught their expression in a furtive glance, thought himself the happiest fellow ;at the Anti- podes, f г г.Л\; It was arranged thaj; Tom shouldjslcep; pn the . sofa, as he had 'dono every-Sùhàay night for several Weeks, and that Dickend the;negro, should be accommodated for the night in the lumber-room. • While the farmer was giving a last look to his horses and cattle, and Lizzie and her mother BOYS Or'ENGLAND.. 343 Were busy in the back room, Tom turned over 1 a few books that were lying on a side-board, and, opening a portfolio of music, found the name of Lizzie Fenton written inside the cover. Lizzie at that moment entered the room. "Would you like a piano ?" said*Tom, looking tip quickly, and catching the 'girl's.' eyes upon him, ''~J[\ "Of all things," she exclaimed, "I am so fond of music." "I have been looking at a relic of your school- days," observed Tom. "When we came here, my music* had to be given up. It would, be hard to find a music- master in the bush."' 1 "A piano would * stand well in that recess," observed our hero and, perhaps, it would not be so difficult to* 'find a music-master as you; suppose." , ;4;r *"* ~ Lizzièlookéd intently at him for a moment as if endeaybttring^to read his meaning; and then, coloùriri^^Âher^interpretàtion'of^his remark, ran out; of the room. ^ 4 "You\HUineed,the tarpauiin^to-morrow, lam thinking," ''observe^ Fenton, onTethrning to the parlour.* "Thevrain is coming-;dowh ; right on end, and the'« sky' all-;round-is;'as";black as my hat." ■ r:-vv Rain it* did^and* an ^ as persistent: and, intolerable;; as ;an4Á.ústrálian dust-storm injKovember. . ¿f \, Tom-and^, Uik ^companions 'ma^èHnémselvès as comfortable .under the tarpaulin* as was possible under the circumstances; but it Sírás with a; feeling of satisfaction;notto say Telief, that ,they: saw, through^/'th'e" steadiiy-de%cnding.rain,\the roofs of Melbourne .rising, above thqscrubbyî wilderness around; and the dull,' grey.sea bound- ing the prospect.- . . X Dick and'Snowball had no difficulty in getting a ship, and the hour sooniçïwne^when oúr'three lads лvcre to part. * '■:-' "Good-bye, Dick," said Tom. - "You* and I shall meet again some day in Lyme "Regis, and stir up the memories of old times. Snow, you have stuck to us like a brick, and I hope you will do well. If I ever call at the Cape, I shall expect to find you a thriving merchant." The services of Dick and the negro being required in getting ;the ship under weigh, Tom shook hands with ;them again, and in a few. minutes he was: standing ,on the quay, and the ship, with ail :her sails set to the breeze, was moving out of tne harbour; CHAPTER TOM'S RIVAL. The murky clouds had opened a little, and,a grey light appeared in the breaks. The rain had ceased to fall for a short time,- but, a thick haze covered the land around Fenton's farm,, and enveloped the distant hills. Farmer Fenton was smoking his pipe by the fire, and* his wife and'daughter sat, on the oppo- site side, occupied with some needlework. '■ "It would be nice to have a little music to. enliven these long evenings, would it not?" said Lizzie, without looking up from her work., "Why, bless the" girl, what is she thinking of?" exclaimed her mother, looking up in sur- prise. ;. "Only something Tom Lester said thé evening before he went away," rejoined Lizzie; slightly colouring. "How long have you left off calling 'hïm blaster .Lester^ Lizzie 3" inquired the farmer, looking p,t her/through a blue haze of'tooacco smoke, "Oh I he. likes to be called Tom, and. Master Lester is so formal I" returned Lizzie, raising her head, and shaking back her ringlets. "We should not reckon* him a stranger now even in England." "It wouldcnqt be easy to makaa stranger of him,'* observed,( Mrs. Fenton, '.with. a smile. "Though; there is a gentlemanly';bearing, and manner about bim which make it hard to believe; that he basteen a common sailor, Ъе is öne of the plcasantest young fellows that ever entered a house." "What a difference between him and Dick 1" said Lizziei rtÍíow, Dick looks like a sailor as he is, but there is something about Tom that makes me think he must have turned sailor from the love of a roving and adventurous life." "It does seem likely," rejoined Mrs. Fenton. "Though he has been here so often, he has never dropped a word about his relatives and connections in England," . i,y'rIS'that the dray?" exclaimed Lizzie, start- ing up as some distanfc;sound>reached her-ears, and running to the ^vindow.v^' lldo not see it; but I am sure I heard something."\ (< It: is not,0, .observed her mother. "I hear the pattering (bf¡'à' horseV'feet ^upon the wet ground, but norwheels." л\. ' ^ , У*Х should not jwonder if this bît;of a. break in'the. wëather-jhas brought/Luke ^ Dempster oyer,',:! observed tfte farmer;'^ " He tias'.not been •here for'some фае?'-^ -.i-Jf/; Д^'Ч* *. Lizzie turned-from'-'thei^ihdow" with a' look expressive of 'disappointment, and' rësumed -her seat by the fire,-' . -,. \f!'j*. ..>iw.. $*д$. The pattering of*a; horsèy'feâvcàmë':'nearer; and in a few minutes they?stopped close to - the house. , -V/ 4 (. y "Won't you open ;the door1 tô Lulçe^Lizzie?" said the farmer; *,. ,f fyj ;Tb!e girl rose slowly, and placing her work* on the~4aÜe:'> opened; the dôor tjust as the visitor touched the'latch:j .;; He was'5' a^brbad-shouldered, big-whiskefed man* a dozéní years the senior of Lizzie, ' and, though hot decidedly handsome, was} certainly not an ilUlooking fellow. j 'sft}1 Good evening, Lizzie," said he,'extending his hand, as he entered the cosy parlóur. "It is as good as a Ht'bt'suúshine'this dull weather to see your bright eyes." ■ * He pressed with "some warmth the little plump hand which Lizzie placed in his broad palm, and "crossed over to the fire, where the farmer and his wife received him with a hearty welcome. "Did you: jsee one of lather's drays on;your way, "Mr.-Dempster?l' inquired Lizzie^ who^had resumed her sewing, while the young man took off his overcoat and shawl. "No," he replied ; adding, with a look towards the farmer, "Do you let your drays out, neigh- bour?" "I lent the one Lizzie is asking about to Master Lester, the young fellow who saved us from, being plundered and having our throats cut by1 those rascally Californians," rèturned Fenton. "He is coming to board with us during the wet ^easoñ¿ and he is bringing some furniture up from Melbourne for his use." "Oh, indeed," rejoined Dempster, over whose somewhat heavy features an expression of dis- satisfaction had stolen while Fenton was speak- ing. „ '* It will be so pleasant to have company- these long evenings," observed Mrs. Fenton; "I dare say it will," said the visitor, glancing furtively at Lizzie ; " I dare say Lizzie especially will find it very pleasant." "Why, you see, Mr. Dempster,!' rejoined the Jittleavorriah/" Lizzie has no companion of her own age, aridfit is natural that, she should find the sociçty of such an agreeable young fellow a relief from the dullness and monotony of a life inthebushV' "Do you find this young fellow very agree- able, Lizzie?" said Dempster, the shade upon his countenance deepening .as he looked fixedly at the little beauty, whose colour had brightened perceptibly while her mother was. speaking. "I like his manners very much,"^she:replied, •without raising her eyes.. Dempster ground his teeth, and moved un- easily upon his chair; but he made rip remark, and an awkward pause ensued. . "There is the dray 1" exclaimed Liz2ie, drop ping her work, and clapping her, hands glee- fully. . bhc ran.to the window* and saw through the thick haze and gathering darkness- the dray lumbering heavily over the muddy track.. "Lizzie seems greatly interested in this young stranger," "observed Dempster, leaning towards 'Fenton, and speaking in a whisper. "It is nature, Master Dempster," returned Fenton, with a quiet smile. "He is near her age, you see, and, as her mother says, she feels the miss of old companions." "She has been here long enough to have got over the parting from old schoolfellows and the like," observed Dempster. "But there has been nobody to take their place, don't you see," rejoined Fenton. "Then this young fellow comes in her way, and I must say he is as good-looking a young fellow as ever you would'wish to see. A gentleruanly young fellow, too; arid yet without a bit of stuck-up nonsense about him." t -... "Here he is Í" exclaimed; Lizzié^nastening to open the door, as the dráy.lumbered' up before it. .. . : vv;;\tv:>. "Now, Jack," said the .welcome voice of Tom Lester, before^ he became^v/sible!to" the little beauty?s beaming eyes, as he called to:one of the grim-looking aborigines.whom Fenton had in- duced 'to work for him-when his labourers deserted the fârm for the more exciting pursuit of gold seeking, "bear a hand with these traps, my lad. Hère we are, self and traps, Lizzie." 9: "Can you manage with'Jacki Master Lester?" inquired the farmer, coming.to the'door. ■ "All right, Mr Fenton,V returned our hero, as he carrieoV in a- wash-stand with one hand and a piece of,carpet with the other. , "Do* let-the-help,'' observed'Lizzie, stepping outside and\rëcèiving some small articles from Jack. . \: ^ "This is^a neighbour of .ours/Haster Lester," said Féntori,»"with a motion'."of the>arm towards" Dempster^ " Master ^Dempster's;* farmáis • the next to'.this, about twenty: "miles-to the east- ward." fj-.rjsliall'. be-glad to make your acquaintance, sir," said Tom Lester, frankly, as he offered his hand to the.stranger. Dempstefrcoldly, and without speaking, shook our hero's:b^d^9-*^^.v>^>fv; "Whatever^havevyou got there?" inquired Mrs. Fenton, 'as 'the rlastcartideHvasr*lifted from the dray ancl brought"into;the parlour;by;Tom and the aborigine. . ».-. >s" - -v- "This recess will-be'ijust-the1 place for it," observed our hero with a furtive glance at Lizzie. т ... "A piano!" exclaimed the young lady, clap- ping her hands. "Oh, that will be delightful Î And what a beautiful music-stool 1" "You do not object to its standing there, Mrs. Fenton, I hope?" said our hero, whom Lizzie's pleasure made radiant *with happiness. . "Oh dear, no-l" wasr.the*rcply;- - "There it shall stand, then, till—well, we will talk- of that another time," rejoined Tom.: "I am not • going to leave Australia) jusfc yet; - "Better see about? supper, missus,'? said the ïarmèr. "Master Lester: ;is! as hungry as * a hunter, I will be bound." 1 Tom, however, was displaying the* piano to the gratified eyes of the little*beauty** and ihad to'be twice summoned to the table.i , Í ... The moment the cloth Avas - removed, Lizzie ran to the instrument, and sealing Herself-before it, her beautiful: face beaming with>nleasure," ran her fingers over the keys. Tom was by her-side in a( moment with a parcel of music tákérí frorá a box* which had been carried into his room; "Here is the prettiest waltz of'the season*,1* said' he; pi acing a piece before .her;? As the delighted' girl evoked, the ! sounds she loved* and which- sTiej had: not heard since she had left England, Torn bent over her, turning the leaves, and whispering praise, while Dempster sat dumpily at the stable.: '.'I like that,now>" said Fenton; whcii the waltz was concluded.' "Makes the place cheery, don't it?" -"• That boy seems to think so," returned Dem'p- !stérrin a hoarse w.hiper, and with a scûwl in the. direction of our hero and the pretty piariiât. *fWliyr what aib . you, Master Dempstei?'' inquired Fenton, regarding him with a look of surprise. . ;■ "Oh, nothing," replied Dempster, ■ .rising hastily, and seizing, his shawl and overcoat. - "Surely you are not going to leave: us to- night?" exclaimed Mrs. Fenton^ looking up in suprise.; "I have just thought of something" I bad for- gotten, and which should be seen to without loss of time," returned Dempster, inventing an ex- cuse for a display of passion of which he was half ashamed, . 344 fi.'AT I. 1Ч7П. BOYS OF ENGLAND. 'WHAT AILS YOU, DEMPSTER?' INQUIRED FENTON, WITH SURPRISE.1 M But the night is as dark as my old mare's tail !" exclaimed Fenton. "You had better stay till morning and start at daybreak." ■ No matter," said Dempster, huskily, as he hurriedly shook hands with the farmer and his wife, and then extended his hand to Lizzie, who had risen from the piano. "Good-bye, Lizzie." "Good-bye, Mr. Dempster, if you must leave us," returned Lizzie, placing her hand in his, which clasped it tightly for a moment, and then suddenly dropped it. Tom Lester proffered his hand, but his rival turned away without a word, and strode towards the door; and while the farmer and his wife locked at each other in amazement he was gone. CHAPTER XXXV. A NARROW ESCAPE. Otjb hero had been resident at Fenton's farm about a week, when, during a temporary cessa- tion of rain, he one day accompanied the farmer to a small lake, two or three miles from the farm, to examine some snares which had been set for kangaroos. They had not left the house five minutes when Luke Dempster, who had not been seen by any of the inmates since the night on which our hero returned from Melbourne, abruptly entered. He was pale, and the anxious expression of his heavy features was evidently the reflex of a mind ill at ease. "Why, how pale you are, Mr. Dempster !" ex- claimed Mrs. Fenton. "Are you ill?" "I am not well, Mrs. Fenton," replied the young man; "but it is not a doctor I need. I have had a severe blow, which, it may be, that I shall never recover from. May I crave a few words with your daughter V "Will you hear what Mr. Dempster has to say, Lizzie ?" asked the little woman, who, after what her husband had told her of the young man's strange remarks on his last visit, had begun to understand the position of affairs. I would rather Mr. Dempster spoke before you, mother," replied Lizzie, becoming very grave, and turning alternately pale and red. Luke Dempster tapped his boot with his riding-whip for a few moments, and leaned against a table, with his large grey eyes directed towards the carpet. "I asked you, Lizzie, some time ago whether I might think of you for a wife," said he, at length, raising his eyes, and fixing them upon Lizzie's lovely countenance. "I told you I was too young to make up my mind upon such a matter," replied Lizzie, with downcast eyes. "Since then I have done my poor best to win your affections, hoping that the day would come when your heart would respond to mine," con- tinued Dempster, in a husky tone. "I believed that your heart was free, and that I had a fair chance of winning you. Suddenly this young Lester appears in the bush, and wins in a moment the prize for which I had striven во long. Is it not so?" "I do not know why I should answer such a question from you, Mr. Dempster," replied Lizzie, the colour upon her fair cheeks deepen- ing at the mention of our hero's name. "You have not the right to ask it." "That carnation glow upon your face answers me," exclaimed Dempster. "You love this boy adventurer, whom nobody knows, and I have not a chance left." "Upon the last point you are quite correct, Mr. Dempster," rejoined Lizzie, nettled by the manner in which he had spoken of our hero. "You never had but a very small chance, and now you have not the ghost of it." "Your mind is made up?" said Dempster, whose facial muscles now betrayed terrible agitation. "As regards the effer which you honoured me with, firmly and irrevocably," replied Lizzie. Dempster struck the table with his whip, and, grinding his teeth with rage, strode towards the door. "And, as regards this Lester ?" said he, turn- ing round as his hand was on the latch. "When Mr. Lester makes me an offer, if he ever should, I will tell you, if you then care to know, what answer I have given him," returned Lizzie, with an air of dignity. Dempster's eyes flashed in a manner which their ordinary appearance would have led persons to suppose impossible, and he seemed about to indulge in a violent outburst of passion; but he checked himself suddenly, and, opening the door, mounted his horse, and dashed off at a gallop. Fenton and our hero had, in the meantime, taken a couple of young kangaroos from the snares, and were returning to the farm with the animals over their shoulders, when the report of a gun startled them, and a bullet whizzed so close to Tom's head that he heard* the sound of its flight. He turned quickly in the direction whence the report proceeded, and at the same instant a second detonation struck upon their ears, and, as another bullet whistled past his head, he felt a sudden smart above his left ear, and, reeling two or three paces, would have fallen upon the ground if the farmer had not caught him. "Who can the villain be ?" murmured Fenton, looking in the direction whence the shots had proceeded, and where the would-be assassin was concealed in the deep umbrageous recesses of the forest. "He is a good marksman, whoever he be, for it was only that turn of the head to look where the first shot came from that saved the lad from being shot dead. Tom, my boy! The poor lad is stunned, for that be only a cut like; but, deary me, how he do bleed!" Stooping down, and supporting our hero upon one knee, he bandaged his head with a handker- chief, and, abandoning the game, carried him in his arms towards the farm. When they were out of sight from the spot where Tom had been shot, a man issued from the forest. (To be continued. Commenced m No. 109). BOYS OF ENGLAND. 345 SfAY 1. 187(1.] "A LIGHT, BOYISH FORM DARTED IN FRONT, AND CAUGHT THE REIKS." THE ADVENTURES OF A BRAVE BOY IN SEARCH OF HIS FATHER. CHAPTKR I. THE RESCUE. EAVEN preserve them! they will be clashed to pieces!" exclaimed simultaneously half-a-dozen country labour- ers; and "Oh, oh, oh!" screamed as many females of the same class, who were engaged in reaping and bind- ing together a field of golden wheat. The cause of these outcries was a pair of runaway horses, attached to an open carriage, in which were seated an elderly lady and gentleman, and a little girl of eight or ten years of age. The coachman had lost all control over the high-spirited horses; the lady and gen- tleman and little girl were paralysed with affright, for in less than one minute, unless the horses were arrested in their mad career, the vehicle with its occupants must inevitably perish, for the horses were careering down a slope that led to an almost perpendicular chalk-pit, full seventy feet in depth! Another scream burst from the women, for directly in the path of the carriage were two infants who had crawled into the centre of the road. At the moment, when all hope seemed to have departed, a watchful Providence sent a rescue. A light, boyish form sprang, with a single bound, over the stile, darted in front of the horses, and caused them to rear back; then, springing up, he clutched the reins, and, jumping actively aside, hung on to them with all his strength. Happily the terrified coachman now found his presence of mind, and lent his aid towards the rescue, and by pulling the single rein he still held, he seconded the boy's gallant efforts. The vehicle turned slowly round, the horses tearing up the ground with their hoofs as they felt the pain caused by the side pressure of the bits, until it stood right across the road, the off hind wheel within a couple of feet of the head of one of the infants 1 The lives of all were saved through the noble daring of one brave boy! The spectators now came rushing down in a body towards the vehicle to render assistance. Down came the vicar and his man-servant, too, at full speed, for the vicarage was but a few score yards from the spot. "Permit me, sir—madam—to offer you the accommodations of my house, close by," said he. "Your horses are certainly not in a fit state to proceed, and there is no inn in the village where fresh ones can be procured." "We shall give you too much trouble, sir," replied the old gentleman, evidently perceiving the necessity of the case. "No trouble at all," replied the vicar. "I and my wife and daughters will be only too happy that it is in our power to render you this little service. Let your servants take the horses and carriage round to my stables, and perhaps the lady, with our assistance, will be able to walk the short distance. You perceive my house is very near by (pointing towards the vicarage). You have had a most wonderful escape." "Wonderful, indeed!" exclaimed the old gentleman, with a shudder, as he glanced to- wards the yawning chalk-pit. "I can scarcely understand it," he added, after a brief pause. "It vías providential, sir," returned the vicar, with solemn emphasis; "a miraculous interposi- tion of Providence." "No doubt o' that, yer reverence," interposed the old village sexton, who was among the crowd of rustics ; "for all on 'em would ha' been crushed to death if 'twasn't ha' been for young Bill Benson here, as nobody seems to care about." "Bill Benson I" exclaimed the vicar, in amazement. "Aye, Bill Benson, your reverence," chimed in half-a-dozen voices, now gazing towards a young, active - looking lad, with a bright, intelligent countenance, who, though he was tall, was little more than ten years of age. He stood on one side, his face and hands cut and bleeding, and his ragged garments rendered still more ragged by their rough contact with the road, yet, apparently, the most unconcerned of all the spectators present. "Bill Benson!" again exclaimed the vicar. "Pooh! pooh 1 What could that slight lad do towards checking the speed of those terrified horses?" And as he spoke, he looked at the old gentle- man, as if to ask an explanation of the mystery from him. "Beally," returned the old gentleman, under- standing the look, "I was so much alarmed for —that is to say—for my wife and grandchild, that really I can't say that I recollect what arrested the progress of the horses. They seemed to me to stop and and turn all in a moment, as if drawn aside by some invisible power" "Indeed, dear grandpa," said the little girl, "it was that little boy that jumped over the stile, and rushed towards the horses. I don't know what happened afterwards; but the car- riage turned, and the horses stopped, grandpa." "Incredible !" ejaculated the vicar. "Itwor Bill Benson," said a young farmer, now speaking eut boldly in support of the lad; "and it's a shame not to give him credit for't. I wor coming up the hill t'other way, and I seed it all. I see the boy jump over the stile, and seize the horse's reins. Hadn't a' been for him, not one on 'em had a' been saved." "It was a noble deed for such a mere child to perform," interposed the old lady. "It was indeed," replied her husband; "and it shall be fittingly rewarded. Come here, my boy," he added, addressing the young lad, who hung sheepishly back, and looked as though he 346 [May i, 187a. BOYS OF ENGLAND. wished himself anywhere else than where he was. '* Come here, Benson," said the vicar. '* Come here to grandpa, little boy," said the child, in her sweet, musical voice. "It was you who was the cause of saving all our lives," and she glanced shudderingly towards the yawning chalk-pii. Thus urged and requested, the shy boy was obliged to comply. "Please, sir, I didn't mean no harm," he said, tugging at his forelock (for he wore no hat), and making a series of loutish bows as he-spoke. "I seed the horses tcarin' along, sir, and fknqw'd as they'd go into the chalk-pit if they';jvarn4 stopped, and summut' made me jump over Ше stile, and run to 'em, sir ; but I didn't mean no" harm; I,didn't." K-\ "Like Vas. when yer jumpt inter the river arter yónng'Sam.póggett, t'otherklay," cried'the young fafmer\wHö4iad*prGfibusiy spoken, with' a merry langhin ;,; ;, ^ . *V ««Yes, Master Kicliârd^ replied:the bóy¿ "you see, I didn't rneaii',tó'dof;Ä#but Sara Doggett couldn't swTiin^n6; móre'h 'a:: stone and I 'gob-? whopped for trjat^I did.''->';-' "Grandma, * what" does- Ker"irican by being*. whopped?" inquired the little girl, in a whisper. "Being beaten, my love." "Then I'm sure." sbe;4vent on aloud, "you won't be beaten for doing я good action. It was like a hero. Isn't he a yqüng hero, grandpa?" "A brave boy, I warrant'," replied the old gentleman, "and I'll makc^a man of him." "Л boy with some good impulses," put in the vicar, gravely; "but" "But what, sir?" inquired the old lady. "Ahem! I'm afraid, madam, he comes of a bad stock," returned the vicar. "Pooh, pooh!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "Ahem! I—I'm sure, I beg your pardon, sir; but what I mean to say is that I don't câre a fig what a man or boy comes from. Will you per- mit him to accompany us to your house?" *' By all means, if you desire it, sir," returned the viear. ,; In a few minutes the party reached the vicar- age, where the strangers were kindly welcomed, while Bill Benson was handed over, for the time being, to the care of the man servant, whom he accompanied to the kitchen, not yet entirely divested of his fear that he was going to be punished for the gallant action he had dared to perform. In the course of an Ъоиг* tea, which had been preparéd for the unexpected visitors, ^eing over, a message was sent to the kitchen, by the vicar, for the boy Benson to go. upstairs into the par- lour immediately, j The strangers had, rh£anwhile,heard fixmi the, vicar the brief history of the boy who had Întcîy rendered them such an invaluable service. It is soon toldf' ',' <>c Some ten or eleven* years before a young woman in a condition, of extreme poverty and distress had come to the village of Hilton, and sought rest and refreshment af the cottage of one of the inhabitante. , - She had, evidently, seen.better days, and, if her language and appearance were not exactly those of a highly educated lady,, they , were cer- tainly far superior to those of the villagers. She had expressed her intention to continue her journey (though she did not s,ay whither), in an hour or two; pub she had scarcely seated herself in the cottage ere she fell ill, and requested to be taken to the workhousc, as she had no money to pay for medical attendance. Her wishes were complied with, and in a few hours she gave birth to an infant. An hour afterwards, she became delirious, and the doctors declared that her life was in danger, and that she probably would not survive the night. t , > The vicar—the Rev. Henry Barlow—was. sent for ; but when he came thé* poor young woman was unconscious and speechless, and before midnight she was a corpse. Once, and only for a few moments before her death, she recovered her senses and her speech. She asked to, see- her babe. It was brought to her. "What is your name? What name shall wc give to the child ?" inquired the vicar, in a gen- tle voice. "Name! name Î" gasped the poor woman. « Call—call the babe—Benson." "What Christian name shall wc give it?" continued the vicar. ¡ But. the poor mother had relapsed into a I state of-insensibility, and in a few minutes she died.. • V Г From¿ the manner in which the dying mother^had responded to the question relative to the name of her4 child, it seemed doubtful whether Benson; washer own maiden name or the-name of'the ;child's father; and yet the plain circlet .öfvgoldjon -the mother's finger— the only particle vof jewellery or ornament she wore—seemed До imply; that she was a married woman, and that her infant was born in lawful wedlock. With the exception, however, of a few shil- lings T inkier pocket, the poor woman had nofj thing-save the clean, though coarse, clothing^ she wore; . ¿ *. ^jWhçn--:her pockets were searched after; her "deceäse^Trio^ a card, nor anything by^which she might have been* identified, was* foünd.v } - ^íthbugh;:;as- he grew from infancy to boy- hood,^ vyoung :r-Benson -naturally' acquiredb-trW clownish;; loutish-loot peculiar to childrétf placed- in his position,-ne'hàcVa* bright, intelligent eye]- Lhis features were wçll formed, andtherOiWas arij expression of latent spirit in Iiis countenance! which told that he lacked but the^opportunity to:, rise above his present low ly condition^'1'' Such was the boy who nowr, with-an awkward* bob, and a tug at his forelock, as if he intended to pull his head off his shoulders, made;ihis bashful appearance before the gentlefolk in the snug parlour at the vicarage. "That will do, Benson," said the vicarcome forward. This gentleman wants to speakto'you. Answerjiis questions properly, and mind you speak the "truth." "Yer reverence," answered the boy, boldly, reddening to the forehead, as if the implied doubt of his, truthfulness ¿had roused, his .ire,.,*/.yer, fevcreùcei' I warn* t never " df card to * speak the truth." "Well, well," replied the vicar, "I believe you do speak the truth, my boy. I should be glad if you were as obedient and respectful to your superiors as I believe you to be truthful." "Please, sir, returned the lad, "I allers be 'spectful to you and, to gentlefolk, but I doesn't call the work*us master and missus my 'speriors." The vicar raised'his eyebrows,, and glanced at his guests, as much as to say— "There, you perceive thp, bold, obstinate temper oí the boy!" "" Come here, my lad " said #ie old gentleman. '" My name is Colston—Timothy Colston, of Manchester, and of Colston Hall, Derbyshire, I am a great cloth merchant," he added, proudly, "and a rich man. And I am proud to .boast that I am the founder and builder of my own fortune." He glanced towards the vicar tas he spoke, with—notwithstanding his pretensions to demo- cratic feeling—something of that purse-proud air which is so frequently apparent in men in his position. "I was once," continued the old'gentleman, again addressing the boy, "almost as poor and destitute as you are now. Now, to-day, my lad, you rendered me and those near and dear tb me an inestimable service, and henceforward! mean to take* you into my own hands; Should you like to'be a rich man?" "Ees, sir. Sure I should," replied the lad, his eyes brightening. "1 thought that would be your answer. Well, now, suppose you were already a rich man, what would you do with your money?" '"Be I to speak the truth, sir, right out—bold— I mean ?" asked the boy, glancing, somewhat ap- prehensively, towards the vicar. "To be sure ; and we all, this reverend gentle- man included (looking at Mr. fcariow), will think better of you for so doing." "Well, then, sir, in the first place, I'd pay some chaps, as I knows, lots o' money to whack the work*us master with a horsewhip as long as he could stand." The whole party laughed out loud, and the little girl clapped her hands with glée. "But what would you do yourself, supposing you were a grown man, with plenty of money?" The boy considered awhile. Presently he went on. , "I'd go all. over the world, and see all the f orrin g countries, as Jack Simson, the sailor as rwas down here telled about, -and 141 gin every body plenty o? work, and pay 'em well, and when ¡ I growd old I'd come home and buy a big farm, and feed pigs and oxes—bigger pigs and oxes- nor Farmer Jackson has got.?' "Well, my boy," said the .old gentleman, "that's a good idea of yours about giving honest people work, if it could always be done. Nobody can get on honestly without working, and being- sober, industrious, and careful. I'm going on to Manchester to-morrow, and if you like I'll take- •you with me, and set you to work in my ware- house. Añ*d> now rhy lad, I thank you in the TQameaTof "myself, my wife, and my little grand- daughter, Sarah,-for the noble and gallant deed ;you performed to-day." "There was one individual who had always ■shown the boy a little teriderncss. That' was •the woman who had nursed him during his infancy. She nowjvin'taking leave of him, took ;frbm her neck a riarrbw, faded, black-silk ribbon, 'tó'Hvhich:^ a bweddih£-ring was attached, and hungit' rourid the^neck of the boy, saying— Billy, my deaf, this ring was your poor dead mbther's. She (meaning the mistress of the 4vorkhousfe)rdoesri't know as I've got it. She ytecn it on- 'your mother's finger, and went for Ï6. take it offvfbr\ herself; but" it were gone. \Щ my belief, Bilious yer summàt o' a genel- man's son, and I don'tr b'lieve yer rïgluV-name's Benson, artcr all. Look'ee here. 'Tain't of'en as a weddin' ring's marked wi' anythink but the gold mark, but this here ring is broader nor ordinär, and one day when I were lookin' at it, I see three letters on't. See, here they be— • A. G. S.,' wi' a stop atween each to go by. It is my 'pinion as them letters is your father's and mother's Christian 'nitials, andyer father's'nitial surname., .If so, yer right name begins wi' S. You rhirid t7iat, and p'raps some day summat may come on't." The poor woman gave the boy a long, parting- embrace whicrr, although he didfecl-somcTcgret at parting from the only human being who'had" always behaved kindly to him, he was far from returning as warmly as it was given. The next minute he1 stood beyemd the work- house gate. He .turned and gave the gloomy building that had hitherto been his only, home, one triumphant, parting look, and bade it' fare* well íor ever. CHAPTER II. j^) V*C; PASSES'OVEIl SIX YEARS. ^ ] ., / Arrived in Mandipsier,;our, youflg hero found himself in a new world. / W Everything seemed marvellous to'hint who had never seen ariy to,wn ;lafger than the* dull post-town neai; his, native village. \j Mr. Colston's warehouse occupied a pronaincnt position in one of, the leading businpss streets ;* but, besides his\çounti7 seat— Çolsto'n Hall¿ Derbyshire—Mr. Colston possessed a handsome town residence in the'suburbs of Manchester, where he occasionally'resided for a few days. On his arrival in Manchester, he was clothed and supplied by his new, patron wlt¥ everything necessary to his comfort^ and. after a few^dayshc was placed in the warehouse to dp duty/ as an errand-boy in the morning, while he went", to. a respectable school every afternoon. '-, /,'J¡ He was lodged in Mr. - Colston's.. Hpùsê,^ fa- Manchester, under. ' 't£e *, care. of r tjie... house; keeper. "( , .' , 'c^-. r- From the* housekeeper,* who was "a motherly old lady, young rBpnson learnt th^t: the-little girl, Sarah, was Mr. ¿(Jolston's = .nearest 'relative, and that she would^one day, inherit all his property." .j ..,-/*.< .J.; "And'a fine fortune,it,'will 'be,"^dded the old housekeeper j "for though*' Mr., Colston lives in good style, he doesn't epend.'háíf his meome "Was Miss Sarah'statbef Mr. Colston's son?''' inquired the boy onetday, soon after his arrival at Manchester. BOYS OF ENGLAND. 347 Mat 1, 1870.] "Yes, Mr. Charles was master's only son," replied the housekeeper, with a sigh. "Afine young man he was," she went on," and a sad day it was for his father and mother when they lost him." "How did it happen?" inquired young Ben- son. *' Did ho die young?" .; "I'll tell you how it was, my boy,, though it's a painful, story," continued the housekeeper. "You must know that Mr. Colston,lhas branch establishments of his business in America, and on the continent of Europe, and about two years after his marriage Mr. Charles set sail with his wife—the mother of Miss Sarah—to look after the branch establishment in New York, leaving the little girl, then little more than a year old, behind them. The vessel in which they sailed was lost on the American coast, and everybody on board, crew and passengers, perished*" For four years Benson faithfully performed his duties at the Manchester warehouse, and, at the same time, diligently applied himself to bis studies. He was now nearly fifteen years of age, and if the vicar had now seen him he would not have recognised the loutisb little country clown in the tall, well-built and gentlemanly-looking youth he now appeared. Twice а усат, for a month at midsummer, and for a fortnight at Christmas, Mr. Colston had invited him to the Hall, in Derbyshire, where he had been kindly welcomed by Mrs. Colston, arid by little Sarah, who was now growing up "a beautiful young woman. A strong friendship had been formed between the two young people—a stronger friendship, perhaps, than either Mr. or Mrs. Colston would'1 have approved.of had they known all. But when he returned to the monotonous duties of the counting-house at Manchester, he experienced an irresistible longing for a-more active and adventurous career; and, as he grew older, the story the nurse had told him.' recurred frequently to his memory, until at" length He felt an unconquerable longing "to commence a' search that should reveal the secret of hisibirth, and held to a firm, belief that he would one day discover this .secret, and learn who bis father: and mother really were," Another twelvemonth passed?.^ away,*:;. áhd; he ha4 - now passed his sixteenth^year,' and,! though still but a £>oy in years, was "almost атшш' hrçtature. * ',„,/, ;':?--r;--' And at' this period the long-wish ed^foroppari tuhity ,to travel was afforded шлЫт quite un- expectedly. Mr. Colston had given up his establishment in New York after the death of his son, and,"-for several years, he had had no dealings with America. ,',But the recent opening out of the country of New Mexico had tempted many 'persons to endeavour to establish a trade there, with the wild and savage Indians, and with the scarcely more qvilized Spanish-Mexican Creoles, and Mr* Colston had been .informed that cloth could be exchanged among ,thegc people for skins at a most enormous profit* -, He determined tx>" send an Agpntthither, and he spoke of his purpose one day at breakfast when young Bensou [was paying- bis customary summer visit tp the" ЦаЦ;л "I wish I knew whom to send,"; he observed, speaking," as it were, to himself. if It is.extremely difficult to find such a person fna-lTequir,e, • ' He must possess a -respectable education, be must be onewhom I can implicitly trust,. and* at the, same time, .he must be young, healthy, fearless, and capable of. encountering and enduring hard- ships and perjls. Where I am to find sucha person, I'm sure X don't know" There was silenpoiqr some moments. At length Bill Benson spoke. "Could you , trust me implicitly, sir?" he inquired, with a blush at his own temerity. "Yes, ,my ,boy,"r,replied the old gentleman, "implicitly." "I think, sir," the young lad went on to say, "that I fear no hardships or, perils. Thanks to you, I have considerably improved in my studies, and .(he hesitated a momqnt, and again blushed deeply^ ere he proceeded)-." I am sure if you were to send me to New Mexico I would study your interests better than I would my own, and, if necessary, at the risk of my life." "You, my boy I" exclaimed Mr. Colston. "Yau are too young for such employment. If, now, you were eight or ten years older, I might think of it." "I am almost a man in stature, if not in years," returned the youth, modestly. "I think, sir, I have as much courage, and as great powers of endurance as most men ten years my senior. It is an occupation that I should delight in, and I do truly believe, sir, that I should return home successful." The lad's earnest pleadings prevailed, and it was arranged that he should set sail for Nicaragua at the earliest opportunity, amply supplied with the requisite funds and goods, and with letters of introduction to the leading merchant traders of the country. A few hours after this arrangement had been made, he and Sarah met in . the grounds sur- rounding the Hall to take their afternoon stroll together. The young lady looked pale and agitated ; thé young lad was flushed with hope and agitation, and excited with pride at the great trust that had been reposed in him. The former was the first to -speak. "Oh, William," she said (thé boy had always been called by that name by Mr. Colston and his family), " how" could you offer yourself for such a^perilous enterprise ?/ I shall never have a moment's peace, of mind^ after you are gone, until Г sec you safe*homc againOh, I wish you would yet alter ,your mind,: and1 let some one older and stronger go in your'stead." Benson replied^, "; "I did;-not'think, Sarah, that you cared so much for me?/ "li & "And whyLnot*?" answered the "young lady. Do!' not' I and'nvy^grándpa and i grandma "owe our lives to' you 1, fortnight ^1Шат*г:Всп&Ьп sailed' from'Liverpool fdr IsTicaijaguay^he агйИ Sarah having, before they párte¿tyse"crétly promised to correspond with-.one another 'as^ften as oppqiw ;tunity~should offer,*- ^l^^S^i^^^"^! Mr. and Mrs. Cölstoh4oök"*ä '-kmHl^rrewélf of the young ;bd at .the; Hall, though the old gentleman subsequently accompanied his youth- ful protège to Liverpool, and saw him fairly off to sea. Sarah liköwisa shook hands with.bim-jtt the Hall, and even gave him a parting kiss in/the presence of, and with thdfpermissiön—in fact, at the request, of her' parents; hut tjto old-, gentle- man and iady were perfectly ignorant* of tbe fact that the brother, and. sister, as they inno- cently styled themselves, had previously taken a prolonged yet- hopeful farewell of each other in the grove, in the ,rear ôî .the little park. It was estimated that William Benson* might be absent for three- years, though .really it was impossible to form any idea of the probable length of his absence, since so much would t| depend 'upon circumstances, of thc^ nature of which all parties concerned were"yet. ignorant. At the expiration of seven weeks he landed at Nicaragua, and wrote thence to acquaint his anxious friends in England of his safe arrival. Hojnpw^liscovcrecLthat it would be necessary^ tólnm'íd gefiö New Orleans," and then proceed* up the Mississippi River*to St. Louis,»and there to connect himself with some party of prairie traders. But it was accomplished at last, and he found himself in the then rear frontier capital of St* Louis (beyond wh'ich, almost to the Rocky Moun- tains, all was desert or forest) with a< letter of introduction to one of the leading merchants of- the city, who received him kindly, and soon in- troduced him to a party of traders, who were, in a few days, to set "forth for the great prairie city of Santa Fé".'' He found tbe traders to be a set of extremely^ intelligent men, capable of meeting, with equal facility, the role, either of the refined, educated' gentleman,' or the rough and ready, daring, generous backwoodsman. In the course of an hour he found himself, apparently, as intimate with them as if "he had known them for years. "So you arc an Englishman, sir," said one, addressing Benson. "You are young to com* menee the career of an Iridian trader; but you look as if you possessed pluck and good temper, and they are everything. I was but seventeen myself when I left Yale College, and commenced a trader's life." "And I am not yet quite seventeen," replied Benson, smilingly. "Not You don't say so! Welï, you are a tall, stout young fellow for your years. And now let me ask you a question, my lad ; what is your speciality?" "You mean, I presume, what is the commodity with which I purpose to commence my- trade?" "Exactly so, your especial commodity?" "Well, I have with me some hundred bales of various colourad English broadcloth, of various textures, from superfine to that which, perhaps, is most suitable'for horse-rugs." '■■^Hem;lr./:Arid\vcry good stuff for traffic, too; but excúsenme, you have, money with you, I ¿fesume^o'r at least the power qf drawing; upon: some* bank?.*?;Mind,^I don't,ask this question with any; sinister \motive. We Indian traders .advise,-trusty hclp^.and confide in one another. IWe couïd "never: get along at all-otherwise. If you are nétî prepared to do as we do, I tell you beforehand'..* you'll never do for a backwoods trader.}? ;^;iv( . :. - r^'l ampreparecl.I am willing to confide in you,,ánd take your-advice. Mr. Richards, the , gentleman to whom I brought a. letter of introV; auction, assurée! me that I might, place implicit confidence in the regular traders." . < *' . - ^53ф$-Richards-is a capital fellow, and;knows-. ûsSvell.^^Hè^âid^'elong to qur fraternity until, he got married. It's a jovial, glorious life, young', sir. The very perils we run give zest to it-, But •Richards did well in telling you to unite yqur* self with the regular traders. There, arc a set of villains-rthe refuse of the Atlantic cities— who stick at no atrocity—who; sometimes han^ upon our skirts, and try tp inveigle;.youngsters* and greenhorns, and. woe to the luckless wretch who falls into their clutches, He may-consider , himself fortunate if he escape with life. But let us return to business. You- bave money, or it's equivalent?" '" I can draw to the amount of £5,000, if ne-; cessary." , , .. "Hum! 25,000 dollars 1 That is more than- you'will need. . If you'lljta^e my advice, you'll draw, 5,000. :dollars,. and purchase knick-knacks with the moiej, if you, wish to do a successful - trade ; and'this is just the place to purchase them. ^ l and two or three of my friends will go, shopping with you to-morrqw morning; You ■mnRt rinfit tret Kuob *nnfin-nR* пя. wß hare: Bv- ÖHAPTER III. THE PRAIRIE TRADERS. The • position in! which William Benson now found himself was strange and exciting fdr a- youth of seventeen years, to be placed in. He stood in a new country, free to act accord- ing to his own judgment in matters in which a great stake was involved. He was a merchant on his own responsibility at a time of life when most lads of respectable parentage are still school-boys. must just get Buch. * notions* as we hare,, By- the-bye, you are supplied, I presuume>,.with amisî" .■ - •• "I have a good dQuble-barreUcd .pistpll and a> fowling-piece." , " Pooh! child's toys. Leave them here behind you. Such things arc worse than useless, in the wilderness. You can use a Colt's revolver?" • • (To be continued.) "JOHX" asked a physician of the apothecary's apprentice, "did Mrs. Green get th6 medicino I ordered?" "I guess so," replied John,44fori saw- crape hanging to the door-knob this morning." BOYS OF ENGLAND. THE KING Of THE SCHOOLS A »Vw < ьь 'Д no wíi.l win 5 !1!,-т,':,;!г:^ л а . ;'aa¡r !» »"« a I bar Ki:«: M Iba Л' farad» . ,,:if| w.'ii'ir. rJ ;rau,»-" tí',*' ''}> >')i bda>' «•y, \rj ;" wanted da !Ь-ríar j ua rr br.aak in ч)1>< 1 - ! i í¡<- v.'!^"' í, .y ¡t,[, '.V; * ir* f""tMi.r). ;>-î f F Ьгачч], "•ьм)ЛУй. ji,,r,„ иу W. M^a;rFaarth'karry*-bd¡,Hj . Пг Ь,(Ч |(fl v,/} n ,>vi.„ a:,(i a ard ' < ':' <" .J !Í- Ï Ь ar !(-Г "í í , ;¡ ,n ,,( i i y ,d, j(- <->Л; , ¡a<,,< , aa; •'- ! « f«T«:\m- i Ь г ..vw, pdvai- г< -ль '.Um. In riin }.'.;'Лм- ndrad- ; v,/.mt.,',r |b*.'m' Ьнп,- ;í -о act in a" bon! i?- mí: ¡""¡i м Ib'.O v da dar- * i t \ •'•<■; -4ni !! - ••>;-; i p"- 'а-Ла—; ^ {,,. }i ( - J y;íV/, ,„f •\v- .„•• I í aab» F ■ í W ! M ' í í íb.da-d l>. V adar!, ! ^,:,!í and maiilv m?:íiíi^r "ü'K-nt; i< »k- r,f i y niiicti spi V" д L/.v ito thrc Л ¡lev :i f; lííüi t:*4 that « Tawiiy с:оиМ ^ITrr fio la1! I er í'X- |4auaiif.f-Kr SO flatteringly that the 1^^|НННН|Щ-bashful German could ^HPäW^ "^e sacken mir 4л ich nichts zu mnifiMfteM weis" :У' i, v,.4Í-;<* î'ir Jи ■ ¡ï !í л и foi; H' .'Mi; 1 k: reply.) ¡ 1 !,y a. *'i 'in X' -»/îy.a >■< i •v/i'il. .i!"»rr a>:yj ;.î vv',y. 'а Ь>}щ (Iíscu^kí* .и ía t hair bcd¡*o<*m a o to Un1 tn;f*Tí ríifití í* <*fiîpOit wîh- .*î<» »î U'-'inUih^ i r* ] Two y.,i;îi/ 1a-li«*>' i;s Baîbb'b-y ri.iopîfbin'd. < •« ' diiT-fiit \\'.чуя f ,f ¡/ruiir/ Lan.". Ihr iai, i,. tob i htm í-) «dt dnwn. ;<>f f-^npf*, ihr г»микт at ипсе ynrrfsrs that Ï aliud«» ¡ Loîidnn ni n v*»ry earîy aror, thon r,o тг.^г*' till 'ГЬг К .'м/'>!' I h»' S.'ir../, î/; j .,•]!• ^ ;:ïrb<îa; c»r I ta Kitt- ard < à-a way, ¡ pa^t rrdddny—nn ;¡rra.a/' îïï two adar-, tlsi'-iyrii Нн-у j« ífu-d :iî th*' Ьш^'Ь | U» dday-ï tt» Oî»nu mrruít к* ¡ntr,üi-îanf 4^iryv aavv: *♦ I tell rr,\i wlad if ;s\ b"> С ^rd«;. г< -'iv» «1 !.. ta.'dr- ha .ybrf и- ^ Níí-'íí a r<-rn i-'-si* ^.••m-'d ^. , ia*r«. -'.ч-у ?-/ d.- i" laa-yaa-a-, 'd.rj Kal ' 11 d>«" í'¡*-,,j: ** ! *Ь, ¡ a da f, r rri? í|.ai! b¡a at' ?na .-viiiara:*' 1 h}c,\-,,v Wiiiickley and ;r:i* ?/id.-r d--«d M':iirUía«iw f» w.ujd- r buw . m.'ub- чп агг.ш.у. ин-ut which I 1*;.! у bad yiaa.crauuíd, î th'-y mann>;••(! ta гк;и itrínv Fr;adk l'd laa^vn i<> , ** Wdatf í^lduf:* ofí' WHSsímj.'y thr 1<>чП( rf a míschíUK'c ti mi ; ih<^aa ;** 1 hnw ragnty d На; * !Л í»aí' ibi-dit b:;v.'Indad-'ü ray uf I drnj. • Л priHid>»- of ''аП^.'НЯ »4r-rr',.,'}K'nd''HC«' was, <'f ' >v.a !;n.»w liuî î *Ч .id»!' íi i:tîd; r¡-af-:df а! ал;» b'rank ítud ; «ч.-п-м-. ^d.. rs c« í- 0« .» í".^ db.ah p;f!*tdy rrv.'ní- ; l.i" ^pr-si/s í*üd i L:lbC'jíi.Cb pi4/C4Vd«Ml tu üjc dreturds biudy, i ciici i.Le _.lrls tu tduir hará ,L,tic, "WrH, taV wdut -4 if ya.w wâîJ?" b<;' T: г **ха:»0?»;И l<»í.- t."H¡, v íhr a-drd? kiadi;., !dry »ailiaad, Ьч.^мр up íroui ¡ia'-v pr'-vdiv.,' :Ь" a* í í i í-• vjar tir- 1и-ок la- \va- rra"; , dira ,uI-'O^-Ta'd <:* !ahy; а»«м' on hand, and pxri:uníír.r thn Hrcnm?tanrr-s nndrr ¡ nnr<«} stadia, t ,nser-d»v=; я rai the € "VVHM'h 0.,ry tij -t r." «i t:i>' ïîîd'.appy youth badb'M! '«ífa-r V'"< :d !:ма r;r.-, I'd- liif u'ay. ;r< r' ÍM4 fi ÏI ffincriFS bf m<' 1 bat })r did r(d play flii ï to hi< у^на»' f,rdyd' ; 'г» »\< d !: f d1. <»tor, n d« li Kj."»-r:..u' A •/!;! bad, Juu.-b» ,i, 14 I: ls«'-,rnr' Uad h«* di'i not Idllru' ;th». îr'yd tir- í h;i'*'' !»! a r yd il!i/df* .'гмаа-г, Ird '.vardrrcd ■ ni 4,\:<% H l\ U ^f!'b, a p' !?d vV'!i",4' 'I' ),/»..« d d Wad 1! "и #,nd. and vvh.- na- ¡;»k< n к r t id.* « ;dc:dr d*vus. Wtd!, ¡ \% .d ;i :b 1 'Vd! i.»;t d 4£ bjîU : í!-a/ Oa' brdd1 !rif-í :¡'í .,fi¡:;-»- n ;;d"d ir, :r! (t;aaâ. aa 1 íad«,: :;,r '«ajr in ;d '.■'•'я.*' '* :4,vt- ' r. ta'df ¡j¡ \¡,ít,' ra id-' ï!»a < ¡ííM-l.-П! ¡ >I sddiad :ar;ja'" : üarrad! ihn уиа raidi íaír ai w:*;ídi-'.; 1 Kaid Freddy. Wrbb'-r « « )}' farra: 1 aa a!; a¡r <.v;n í'-rr -•nr.d.í-» ¡ü»ri!¡< i;, n dio М;и>Ь;ни. ' b.- ín irnd-ra b* í-n- t Ida la/л r:r: ar j traía a-r- Í4;diy .aarh-dd" y*»c r:v.-i ?■* ib,- !ьгу.." a,, :y,,v ;y; d a,j,an'.'r;d da íabba" TLr ;•)«> :¡t d.av ;a b'a' daWír d, '/.."• ra di- 11 ua-d Fr- barí ;-a a it of aira -íbaaaa iV.d it.IT 1, !.Î7!Î. j HOYS OF ENGLAND, Ivo ту i voz- - ол'. ;и 3 ' i >;г »: o 1, ■ *.]' \\ k«'*'N iiiî- '"'I' î. .о - к î k;ik k<--o rnv-k' ! î i , ;ь,: f-»r;i,'"' «гк.'"Г. '■ ; ),-,:, о- ;¡'-!bc. í <■!. tk- '• i tk<'!0 k. >k-,<< bícli Лет fired a f.и :. rith" Vt к ч" ;i ь-; »"! ) ЬОЛ.Л-Ч'к t Íí;i1 t Ь ' ¡ Л V>TV kíkkí,, f.i-¡ -Л\ к- ' * . Г i-i; bi»;;, ;í I :\'í \ ) ¡;, ,L, , к, Up clambered the I ;¡rm<'- í w,* к }»» ■:{,-,.iwiú víb" < -i !i 'к v. * ;0 )<" с:* Tîi'Hn: , v.i.- -\ V»,; i. 11.' ;v.o:;;>< u kk • !-. -.'"ir ;. >::•': » -lo:kr i,' y-: :" i i 0 ■ ',. -'л *• V ;o: ■ к v. ■> i к/ .;' f • i-n j.;,í( ;,. *■ II :, к.,г a ?;o лло-, » 'ys* k"f i-r t;,';;, jv>;^ а- и j. ,v\o,y ]■";<•« S ^ < í í • : i !'!!'. >»Л1 к*! Ь TkoO'i ¡i«Lr ¡t.'íl? •:i-'*;,o'.v:. ici" ki • к:*! Ьу 'Л ;,}' <,,' tí,' К oí til" 4-',kíH»í ir..i'''- M s.;«"-t ■ «•?: ;"!• íít<- *i'i'7Í:v* шло wonM кч>/ ¡o Y, \, \ » я W¡ •! Ik!1, kv !:•: ght Bnffíilo § small par possible it fend Wild not death. '■i лоЧоо* «>; к-»<;,- :• «.k kiln 1л.o k< V д,« upyroark л;,л к.ю;' There \v,v no Kirhi vwib?" л?, h»» ro!" vk у ' -■ i*î у. ;,,г»н-,*г. f./í ík<-y !ii:ikt *. -i »»' «'b' -o-„':, '4,r.i "л-r," íí-; к !i, a ik-î Nu r<* :< скли out ii'-гс wiiu c^be Lliítóikí Laif whilu. who L г,i» ]•♦']• ííod ->f :\ h-i, : (/:у"к ;o:d v< «-,H - ;М, wkk'h ;)«: wiük;;; Ь'Г:.!|' и- i,., ь t Of 0. л'. 'i-)tkt, 'v an.**; 'f v/]k',k. I'.- b.'.vd, :,uk j Íü-ivutU-r •* Whut, :h>- ,лк ka»*.'4Í#¥Ílcolonel? ктьгл ;; : -/ l.mv Me isn't a у о ;0 о,, y ufï. My b:ira- - T.:» í/' тто/ ',ko i, "î ;,ч-;» i/V.»r ¡n Lrbt-rfy—. s civ к; к, M •-" ü:oi" í,- If at Perkins* My o,:irUT iv*k. wkk bo craz]r to see y"i, л!:- ;i '.v. r at ikO I О a ko.f fo,:.i i'« :>', \o*i:"y/J,;l<: kui чк***к b<- O,,» ;, k, fк" ьп-о-коу !'v" k";o'-I k« r laîk ubutit y«-u a k,iiidi:eá ttmee, \\"ky .;.-.iki \vu" Tr/kt пни и!? Uk/li b.ivt-k< -m- ,'vk-i'fe.j and the old \o>;n.oi -л;к mo k.Hvñ h;i ï lh• ho' in и îîki.t'iO-, *Lk:,kí ;и,«1 ооше in.** 4- I w* ~ iir ,nhl к !k "but 1 left th-ечЬгм l ïL a bud к'o :Uhí îhh,- ^ k;4rk - îokii. Our w;»'.'goii м bagged, 3J0 [Mat i, 1870. BOYS Oí" ENGLAND. "Вер," said he, "how far is it across to the old river voad?" "'Bout a mile, mas'r cap'n—'bout a mile, I reckon. Yonr waggon isn't ober thar, is it?" "Yes; I left it there and got out here some way. But no matter. We can get there, can't we?" "Yes, mas'r cap'n: dere's a old field here on de left, but it's kind о overflowed now—de water is high from dem late rains." "No danger of missing in it?" * "No; mas'r cap'n; all hard ground. Only jess de water m de way." "It is just where I want it," thought Bill, аз he knew the water would hide his trail. "Ben," said he, "do you know there is a war going on?" "Yes, mas'r cap'n, I've hearn 'em tell 'bout dat. But I doesn't know nuffin about it. I spec you do." "Yes, a good deal, and you'll know more about it before long, for you're in the service now." "il/e, mas'r cap'n? Be Lor', I doesn't know what you mean 1" "I mean this. I have appropriated you and tlrse mules for the benefit of Uncle Sam, and you'll be wise if you mind "me and ask no questions, but hurry on them mules. They'll never see Nat Perkins's stables again." "De Lor', mas'r cap'n, you isn't a hoss thief?" "No, Ben, I am not, and if your master had been a Union man I should have bought his mules. But as he was not, I knew I couldn't get them for love or money in any way but as I have. So they're mine till he can get thern back from me, and I shall hire you to drive them and ta"ke caro of them, if you go with mo willingly. If you don't, I shall have to tie you up in the swamp somewhere, even if you starve,, till I get out of the country." "I doesn't want you to do that, mas'r cap'n; but sposin' old mas*r gits hold of this nigger if I goes off with you!" "He'll not have the chance, Ben. In another day or two you will be free, among free men, and never again be in his power." "Do you say dat for true, mas'r cap'n?" "Yes, Ben. I need you and these mules. Will you go on willingly?" "I s'pose I'd better, mas'r cap'n; but by de big gum tree, I doesn't see what it all means I But I is only a nigger, and me isn't expected to know much*. So I'll jes' do what you tell me, mas'r cap'n." ¿ "Do it, Ben, and I'll see you^hrough 'it all." qHAPTEIt XLV. Wiiex Buffalo ВШ got to his camp, and the negro, Ben, found out in real earnest who he was, and that it was a matter of life and death with them all to reach the Federal lines speedily, he proved himself to be an auxiliary worth having. The fresh mules hitched to the waggon were put forward at a rapid trot, for the new driver was well acquainted with the road, and at several points Jae not only gained by making cuts across the^country; but he crossed water often, so as to make, the' trail.' moro difficult to follow. Another day of travel was nearly ended, and Bill was. already lopking out ahead for a good camping- place, when the clatter of hoofs in their fear at- tracted his attention. A momentary alarm passed from his breast, as he saw that it was a woman who followed—a wan-faced but wild-eyed creature, whose hair floated out in dishevelled tresses over her bare, sun-browned shoulders. She was mounted on a magnificent horse, which showed signs of haying been ridden very hard. Bill reined in his horse as she came up, deeming it best to question ,her, though there was npthing in her appearance to denote danger to him or his party. "Where from, my friend, where from?" he asked, kindly, as with a sad, wistful gaze she looked at him. "Mary has ridden far, over the hills and over the plains. She is hungry," said the woman, in a pitiful tone. «* We shall camp soon, and will have plenty to eat there. But here is a chunk of bread and meat to last till then." And Bill instantly took some food from his well- filled haversack, and handed it to her. She ate a little, and then in the same wild tone, said— "Mary saw them lying asleep all around her—the bad and the bloody. She could not stay there, so she rose, and took the best horse and came away, They will follow, and they will kill us all.1" "Who—who do you mean?" "Colonel M'Kandlas, Captain Lewis, and all." "Why, M'Kandlas is dead 1" "No, he sleeps. I saw him. He was asleep, and men slept all around him. Then others came, and they fed Mary, and wanted her to sleep. She could not, and she took a horse, and came away." "Others came!" Bill muttered, for, though he felt sure she was insane, he began to gather some- thing from what she said. His eye accidentally fell on the silver front-piece of the bridle on her horse. He saw a name en- graved on it—the name of one whom he knew but too well. It was that of Bex McCullough. In an instant the thought came to him as to who had fed the girl, and from whom she had taken the horse. A few questions adroitly put drew from her nearly a coherent story—enough at any rate to satisfy him that she had seen McCullough with a party at the deserted cabin of the widow—bad taken one of his horses, and would without a doubt be followed. He now started his lightest man forward with a message to the first Union man or officer he could meet, and then, as night was close at hand, looked out for a good camping-place. He found one even better than he hoped for. It was under a lofty ledge, which overhung the stream, with a little level ravine running back close by, where there was plenty of grass for the stock. A cave, not large or very deep, ran back a little way in the great cliff, and a fire built here could only be seen after entering it. / In truth, it was as good as a fort.! As the waggon could riot ?be brought in, there, Bill carried his wounded mate in; and, .had*. His bed made near a cheerful fire inside.' ^*v The widow had succeeded -in making, Morman Mary quite contented with her situation; and {after night set in, and supper had been cooked and eaten, Bill felt very well satisfied:with** His position, for even if McCullough ..did follow, up the trail, he thought he must have start enough to keep ahead of him some ways yet.; Wearied out at last, he knew that he must get some sleep, or he could not much longer keep about, so, posting his single sentinel . out on the road by which they came, and bidding ;Ben look out for the stock, he laid down near.'the" five. Wild Bill, worn out with continual suffering, also slept an uneasy^-dreamy, slumber,'while1 the widow and Morman Mary alone kept awake. "The latter, with, strange, incoherent and rambling complaints, told so much of her. sad story that the widow, listening with many a shudder, ^learned "what fearful wrong she had endured'ere her brain became crazed. ,; t. And ..it • seemed. to ;her * as ifretribution was but partial, in the mere ' death; of such'* à ,wretch as M'Kandlas. - ''+ :'п^>У%< tffr^ >' ^Suddenly Negro t Ben paused/listcned, and then, starting to his feet, cried wildly—' "They come, they come î I hear the tramp of horses!" Buffalo Bill, aroused by his cry, started up, rifle in hand, just as the sharp crack from his sentinel's gun* told that he was on the alert, and that enemies were approaching. 4 j3?he next second the man himself rushed into the ^cave where Bill had retired for more safety, an- nouncing a body of horsemen and two women as being close at hand. He had hailed and halted them; and satisfied by one expression from the leader's lips of what they were, had fired at the latter and dashed in as he had been directed to do, to alarm the camp. "Put out the fire, mate—put out the fire, and you've allthe advantage," said Wild Bill, in a husky whisper. "Then put my revolver where I can reach it. I'm good for six, if they'll stand between me and the star-light out there." CHAPTER XhTL Instantly, on the suggeston of Wild Bill, at the moment that the negro, Ben, came rushing into the cave to aid in the defence, water was dashed on the fire, and all inside were left in darkness. Our hero had an instant now for thought, and in which to direct his only two able-hodied assistants how to act, for it was a matter of the sternest necessity to keep ready with reserved loads, and not to give their enemy an opportunity to rush in finding them empty-handed. He knew well that if Ben McCullough was him- self in command, and had not been injured by the hasty shot of his sentinel, he had one to deal with who in strategy as well as courage was more to be dreaded than any other man in the country. The very fact that after the alarm was given, the outside party did not at onco rush on to the attack, satisfied Bill that he had old hands to deal Iwith.' They would reconnoitre carefully before they risked life in the work before them. ВЩ placed the bed of Wild Bill behind a point of rock where it would be out of range of fire, and made the widow take Mormon Mary, who had taken refuge with them, into the same place. He also arranged himself, the negro, and his other man in different parts of the cave, when, while using their own weapons effectively, they would be out of range to some extent from an outside fire, and so far apart as to make their force appear larger than it really was. All this was the work of not more tjian two or three minutes at the utmost, and it was done before any demonstration was seen or heard from outside. But the quiet did not last long. % The intense darkness inside made even the dim starlight outside capable of revealing the first move- ment. A creeping form was seen to approach the waggon, raise, look in, then pass on, return,, and listening, as if by sound to endeavour to discover the where- abouts of the party. Unsatisfied—for Bill and all with him were silent —this person crept away. A minute more and he returned, walking boldly, and with him came two women. Wild Bill whispered to his mate— "That's the gal who lured me into the hands of Jake M'Kandlas—the smallest of the two." "Then I expect the other is Sal Perkins, after Dave Tutt," said Buffalo Bill, with a low laugh. Neither had spoken above their breath, it seemed to them, but the sound evidently reached those outside, for they turned, and seemed to discover the entrance of the cave. . 't A whispered consultation was held, and the man hurried away. A minute elapsed, and then Bill saw such odds coming forward that even his brave heart began to tremble; not for the fear .of death, but the thought that he would not again see his dear twin sisters, his noble mother, his darling "Lou." One by one, silently and yet boldly, they came forward, until he counted in all twenty-three men beside the two women. All were armed with rifles and pistols, and some bore sabres. Even yet no word had been spoken aloud on either side. But when his men were formed so as cut off egress from the cave, then McCullough himself spoke in a tone loud and clear as a bugle note. "Men, yon who are hid away in yonder, listen to aman who never makes long speeches, but generally lets powder and lead talk for him. I Know ,who you are, and that we are full Ave out hero to one in there I If you will surrender; I will, treat you well as prisoners of war. If you do not, we will butcher you as wc would so many grizzlies. We know your condition. Wild Bill is too near dead to fight." "You lie, you cuss! I could put a ball through your heart as easy as I did through that of Dave Tutt, if I chose!" cried Wild Bill, forgetting all prudence. "He killed Dave Tutt—my Dare!" screamed the largest of the two women. "Into 'em, men Î into 'em, and wipe 'em out this minute I" The maddened woman was on the point of rush- ing forward herself, but McCullough held her back. The very fact that words instead of lead came from the concealed "party gave him /hope of a sur- render. He told the woman tp keep still, and though his men held their weapons ready to fire, told them to wait for orders. "I-could dash in there and maybe,lose a man or two, but it would be the last of you !" he cried. "I do not wish to see useless bloodshed. I had rather hold prisoners than fill graves, so listen to reason, or it will be the worse for you." "Ben McCullough, you know me and I know you. Together we had a time once in the Smoky Hills which you ought to remember, and you know what my grit is," cried Bill. "Buffalo Bill, by thunder !" cried the ranger. "Yes, it U me, and for old times sake 1 don't want to hurt you. If I had, you know what my needle-gun, now cocked in my hand, could and would do. There are more of us here than 3rou expect, and we're fixed to stay; so, instead of bother- ing about us, go while you can, without getting hurt. All I'm trying to do is to get my mate back where his wounds can be attended to. Let us go in peace, and this will be the end of it." "I can't .do it,. Bill. You must surrender as prisoners of war. You two men are worth too much to the other side to be allowed to slide when you're in my power. Just say youlll.give up* and I'll draw my men back, and you can come out.". í; I don't want to be impolite, Ben, but ГЦ seo you and all with you in Jericho first | -^jid now do you move, or I'll throw lead, for I m tired of talking. There, ready 1 Pick each a man, and ten of them .are. dead." . . "Piro 1 There's no use in fooling ; fire P shouted McCullough. The words scarcely left his hps, when he felt the graze of a ball along his temple which, while it staggered him, killed a man just behind him; and May l, ISro.j 351 BOYS; OF ENGLAND. then, as his own men fired, shot after shot came from different parts of the cavern, and several men falling, made him believe that the force in there was. indeed, larger than he expected. blue uniforms, and a wild,, charging cry was heard outside, and the ranger, almost entrapped, had only time to shout—' "Fall back, men, or - we're lost Г » when the Federal soldiers were seen rushing in. Kicking the fire-ball far out . of his range McCul- lough managed to break through.the incoming crowd, literally hewing his way out with his knife, and with hira escaped a few of his men. Light was now made, and then investigation showed that while Buffalo Bill and his men had been only slightly hurt, two-thirds of McCallough's men had paid for their assault with their lives. The leader, with the rest and the two women, had got entirely away. A pursuit was made—but a man who knew the country so well was not to be overtaken. Buffalo Bill, whose forethought in sending on a messenger for help_had undoubtedly saved him from destruction, was now safe with his partner and party, and with proud satisfaction took his course under a strong escort back toward the lines where he knew he would soon meet his loved ones. CHAPTER XLVII. IN ten days, by slow and easy stages, carefully nursed by the widow and by Mormon Mary, Wild Bill reached St. Louis. Lillie had arrived safely under the care of Frank Stark, and the good mother of our hero was once more happy with her children all around her, Kitty Muldoon was wild in the exuberance of her joy, and when she heard that Dave Tutt and Colonel M'Kandlas had been slain, she fairly danced for joy. "The big bla'guards I" she cried. "Is it dead for sure they are? I wonder what has become of their souls? Sure it's purgatory is too dacent a place for 'hem, andoul4 Nick is too much of a gintleman for such company, bad as he vis. Sure, I'm thinking they'll wander and wander around outside all through eternity, wantin' the bit to ate, and the drop to dhrink, and never a hope of getting aither I" "How is my little friend, Joe Bevins, Kitty?" asked Bill, with a sly wink, expecting to see the tell-tale blush rise on her rosy face. "How is he, sir? Why, he is puty as a saint's picture and as brave as a game chicken wid new spurs on," cried Kitty, as proudly as if the words had been spoken that would ¡give her a right to comb her loved one's hair with a three-legged stool if she chose. "And now, if ye plaze, JUister Bill, win ye be after tellin' me wan thing and that isn't two." "What is it, Kitty?" . "Did you think I'd be after denying an.interest in me bould little söjer boy, that has a heart like a lion and a mouth like a cherry, and is the most illigant dancer just that ever flung a leg?" "No, Kitty, no; it is not the nature of your countrywomen to be ashamed of the one they "give their heart to. I know that. And as to the danc- ing, I hope to see the day, not far distant, when I may dance at your wedding I" "Sure, that'll not be till, the cruel war is over," said.Kitt, with a laugh. ^Ând 'thin,mavbe, there'll be more of yez sailing in the same ship wid poor little Kitty, and good luck be wid us all." Frank Stark came in a few moments after this conversation was over, and^ with a bright smile on his manly face, told Bill he had just had a fine offer. "What is it?" asked Bill. "A commission in the general's body guard?1 said Frank. "You took it, of course?" "Of course I didn't take it!" "Why not? You'll have big pay. and a pair, of shoulder straps."; "Bill, what have I done that you talk this way to me?" "Why, Frank, I talk nothing, mean nothing, but kindness. We scouts get less * pay, and meet a thousand more perils than those who hold higher rank. You are a brave, true man, loyal to the heart's core, and I owe you a great deal for the kind, brave acts you have done for me and my family, * wish to see you do well." "Then keep* me where you can see it. I shall serve as a scout, and under your eye, or nowhere." "Brother, never try to urge such friends as Frank to leave you," said Lottie, gently; "for where your daring leads you they will follow to shield." "Or to avenge," said Wild Bill, gloomily. « For my part I want to be out and çioing, though I know I shall go under before "long. I feel it, and have since I had a dream the other night." "Dreams are the sleeping shadow only of the thought. No man should be so weak as to be in- fluenced by'^his dreams," said Lillie, with grave earnestness. "I,can't,help it î but when a.man dreams that he dies by the hand of a woman, and knows that he never thought of a woman except with kindness, it is something to worry about!" '"Didyou drame that a woman killed ye for sure, Mr. Bill ?" asked Kitty. "Yes, I did." "Then, sure, sir. it'll be a man that does it, for drames always go by contraries." Wild Bill shook his head and then said— "If you'll all listen. I'll tell the dream exactly as Their guns must it was. .^hen, maybe you'll not wonder at the hold it has upon me." Every one drew near the easy-chair which Bill, as an invalid, yet used, and he went on to relate HIS DREAM. "I thought that Buffalo Bill and me, with about forty or fifty of our sort—all scouts—were in camp in one of the sweetest spots in all Missouri, down on the Saint Francis, with our horses all picketed, supper on the fire, and me just ready to eat it, when in rode one of the boys in blue as fast as he could come, and told us General Carr was in all fired pickle down towards the Ozark range and wanted all the help he could get. "I thought we didn't wait to eat supper, or ask questions, but were up and off in less time than it would take a Dutchman to bolt a bologna. "We went on at a gallop, for we could hear cannon from the start, and, after a while, we got into the hill country, and then we heard the. crack of the rifles. We went no slower for this, but soon came where there was a chance to take a hand in. "Sure enough, our folks were getting whipped wful. "The batteries over on some hills across were mowing, our men down by hundreds. "Buffalo ВЩ, says he to me: "* Mate, we can't stand this, be taken or capsized!' "I said yes, and we went for 'em 1 Oh, it was glorious! the way^ we went in, over and through rank after rank, till we got to the guns I We had a fight there, you'd better believe, for it was revolver to revolver, and knife to sabre; but we got tho guns. ;* "I'd"just"taken off my hat to give one hurrah, when a hand clutched my throat, a knife came hissing down hot into my heart, and, as I felt the blood spout, I looked up and saw the face of a woman. She had done it. "fc There's your pay for killing Dave Tutt!' she cried. 'Go where he is, and' tell him Sal Perkins sent you there!' "I choked; I tried to say something to Bill about Lillie and Lottie, but I couldn't, for the blood was all in my throat. ^ "The woman laughed at me like a devil, and it made me so mad that I struggled to rise and strike her, for'I was down, I thougnt, and I hit my head such an awf ul thump against the wall that it woke me up. It was a dream—I know that; but it is a warning, and I feel that I shall die soon, and by a woman's hand." "Oh, nonsense, Bill ! -»Don't talk that way! it Í3 foolish I Lillie, cheer him up with a song/or we'll all get the blues, for they're a-catching as the measles." Lillie laughed, seized her guitar, and, in a clear, ringing voice, sung: A BATTLE SOKG. "The tempest is breaking In wrath o*er the land; The firm earth is shaking Like a ttorm-beaten strand; Proud armies arc moving x Liltc clouds on the blast, And patriots proving Their manhood at last.' Then up in array, And on to the fray- Yes, up and away. Where the war lightnings play !'* Bill forgot his dream in a moment, and his dark eyes flashed proudly as she closed the verse, and he said— "That is the music to get well ont I'll be in the saddle in a week—see'if I'm not." The good girl would have sung another verse for him, but at that instantthe noble banker, Mr. La Valliere, entered with his bright-eyed "Lou," her hair floating in soft waves down her fair neck and shoulders, - and the. music was for a time inter- rupted. For where little "Lou" came there was music without singing, one may be sure. (To be continued. Commenced in Ш171.) Angelina, having said that she was twenty-five years old, Augustus expressed great surprise, re- marking, "How can that possibly be, Angelina? I was bom on the same day with yourself, and, being twenty-nine, it must be—" "Ah! but you must remember, Augustus, that you have, l^ved much faster than I." Tue statement is made thai during one of Prince Arthur's receptions in Washington a welj-known matron went among the girls, exclaiming, ■ '<* Blush a little! blush a littlo I It will look more Eng- lish!" 352 ГМАТ 1, Ш0. BOYS OF ENGLAND. THE BOYS OF ENGLAND LIFE-BOAT. Subscribid to by the Boys of England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. Amôtmt last acknowledged, £287 15s. 2d. Nuova Octavia 0 6 James Wilson 0 3 O. Helharn (Stamford) 0 3 Collected (per card) by John G. Newman, 20,Bridge Strcet,Sun- derland :—John G, Newman, Cd. ; J. J. Cr , 2d.; W.P.O.,2d.; , E. Toveo ("Alert"), 2d.; B. Kavery(" Flo- rence"), 2d.; J. Bar- ker ("Caesar"),2d.; H. Tinwell, 3d.; J, A.M.,2d.;T. H. H.t 6d.; Г. Bell, 6d. ; S. Lilley ("Naiad"), 3d.; W. Green ("Sarah") 2d.;J.R.,2d.; T.Arno, lid.; W. Tinwell. £d.; C. Lovatt, Cd. ; J. O. M., 2d.; \V. Brown, Cd.; D. Spendley, Id.; It. Thomson, Id. ; C. Sprlngett, 2d.; J. Atkins, Id.; J. A. M, (2nd subscription), 2d.; J. Olley, 2d.; J. Hougego, Id.; T. Young, Cd.; E. Sara- "well,Gd.;T.B.B.,2d.; J. Gambrell ("Cos- mopolite "), Cd.; W. .. Thomson, 4d 7 Collectai (por card) by "W. S, Ellison, Chip- ping Sodbury* Glou- cestershire : —- A. J. Foxwcll, E?q,^ls.; A Boy,Cd.;JoLn Tftomp- Bon, Cd.; В. J. Eitz- patrick, Cd.; Mr. W. 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Jack- son, 2, Drake Street, Red Lion Square : — Mr. Jackson, 3d.; Mrs. Jackson, 3d.; Master Jackson, 2d.; Alice, Id.; Mrs. Ed- wards, Id, ; Mrs. Паг- rison, Id. ; A Porter, Id.; EmmaJudd,2d.; D. В. Hamson 2d.; Mrs.Lee,ld.; J.G.J., ld.;Mrs.Snooks,ld.; Tommy Dodd, Id.; Champagne Charley, Id. ; Stoney, Id. ; Fat Jack Id.;. Ada,Id.; 2 0 ^mtsgaiùtm. Amount received up to April 11th, £280 19s. 2d. "THE LAST PLANK." Adrift at eea Î The sport of maddened billows, While on their downy pillows The sleepers sleep and dream Unconscious^. The lost hope o'er— No human ear to hear him, No hope of succour near him, Down, down he sinks beneaih the waves, To rise no more 1 No! once again life tries her hand of cunning, • And sends the swift blood running Along the weakened limbs—the hands . Clutch, as in pain I A plank in sight 1 A life-buoy in mid-ocean, By angels set in motion To bring a drowning wretch From death to life. Saved, saved at last! To God be all the glory- Go tell the wondrous *tory, And bless His holy name For dangers past. 9Л* All Communications to be addrewd to thé Editor, Mr. Edwin J. Bbett, 173, Fleet Street, E.Ç. *#* We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal. %* Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule wa cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents In a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid. •*» Correspondents tcho wish to receive replies by post must in all cases send stamped directed envelopes. The chief productions of Alaska are ice and cod- fish. The ice crop is now a quarter of a mile thick. Why don't some enterprising Yankee go up there and load an iceberg with cod fish, and nangate it down to civilization? What a cool thing he'd make of it! Tub gipsies hi the Hop Garden in Pesth have a curious way of looking after the honesty of their money collector. The person entrusted with the mission of taking the hat round among the crowd had a living fly pat in his left hand, while he holds the plate with his right. "When ne returns with the funds he must bring the fly back alive, as a sign that he has not taken any money from the common property: but if the fly be wanting, or even dead, he does not get his share of the money. Aw ABMiitEB.—The Prince of Wales is the title usually borne by the eldest son or heir apparent of the King or Queen Kcsnant of Great Britain and Ireland. Before the reiffn of Edward 1. the eldest son of the prince was called the brd prince. The title of the Princes of Wales originally distinguished the native "princes ot that country. J.he eldest son of the King or Queen Regnant Is, by inheritance, Duke of Cornwall. Edward the Black Prince was first created Duke of Cornwall on the death of his uncle John Eltham, who was the last Earl of Cornwall, and by tho grant under which the title was then conferred the duke* om is inherited by the eldest living son of the heirap- {>arent. If the duke succeed to tho crown, the duchy vests u his eldest son, bat it there bo rio eldest eon, the dukedom remains with the king, the heir presumptive being in no case entitled to it. Тие titles полу borne by tho Prince оГ Wales are Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester, Duko of Saxony. Duke of Cornwall and Rothsay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles, and Great Steward of Scotland. Reginald Mortmain—(l.) Of Messrs. Longman and Co.. Paternoster Row. (2.) We have searched, and cannot llnd any such river. (3.) The Pix, which il held at the Mint, Is a kind of tribunal of judgment between the actual coiners and the owners, as the trial known by the samo name in the Court of Exchequer is to test tho quality of the money as between the Master ot tke Mint and the people. The Chancellor of tho Exchequer generally pre- sides, or, in his absence, the Lord High Chancellor. (4.) Yes; by the Pope. (5.) Must stand over. Tom Truck.-Juan Leon, alias John Lyons; Francisco Blaneo, Ambrosio, alias Manrlccio Duranna, and Miguel Lopez, alias Joseph Chances, alias the Catalan, and Marcus Vartos, who had been convicted for piracy, were hung at the Old Bailey on Monday morning, Jb ebruary 22nd, Ш4. The vessel on board which the atrocities were committed was called the '* Flowery Land." Oliver Ciiomwell.—(l.) You are not very tall for your age. nor is your weight extraordinary. <2.) In many parts of England May Day ls still kept up. (3.) Your writing is not good for your age. Whether you aro likely to improvo depends very much upon yoursclt. Constant SunscaiBEu (Pontypool)—(1.) They aro not called ** wages." but salaries. The salary is £5.000 per annum. (2.) The same salary is attached to the ófrico of Home Secretary. (3.). It is generally pronounced Pell Meli. f-T.) Good. Bell.—wc nave never read an authenticated edition of the hero's exploits; but as you know all about your fore- fathers. It wrong, you can set us right, for which we will thank you. Loan Warder.-(10 Inquire of a dealer: we cannot tell • you. (2.) AU of them. (3.) As many a* Nature has «Iven him. (4.) Your writing is not яо "very" bad, but practico will improve it; you arc only thirteen. . Maxwell Fault.—There is little doubt but the fault lies with your bookseller. It is not at all likely that tho wrong " papers wêuld bo sent. Wo' have never had any other complaints. F. Adams—You will find, and much better than our spaco will allow us to tell you, all you want in the ** Royal Agricultural Journal." R. McK.—(1.) 2s. 8d. all complete. (2.) No. (3.) Not for a long time to come ; full. (4.) About 5s. Cd. A. U. P.—** Unlucky Bob "was completed In 15 numbers. Those, and tho postage, would cost about ls. Cd. Том Lester.—You will And the question answered in No. 4G; but there is no enlisting going on.' W. Puncher.—Why, the tickets, of course, when they are advertised for. . - Inquisitor 14 Giles Evergreen" Is now publishing in penny weekly numbers. Washington.—Wo are obliged by your offer, but havo no room at present. John You had better, as a matter of certainty, send in V all ** the tickets, as tho drawing will bo coming on, Romdlus—OO About fourteen. (2.) Shortly. 8am SEADUiFT.-The Ancient Mariner " is by Coteridgo. E. Mortimer.-(L) Yes. <2.) No. NEXT WEEK! We shall lay before onr readers the particulars of a SERIES OF MAGNIFICENT GIFTS to be continued week by week, of a most novel, amusing, and instructive kind. Theso gifts will entirely differ from anything hitherto given with any journal. Notice the Announcement Next Week. CHEVY CHASE; OR, THE BATTLE ON THE BORDER. This splendid etory, originally published In the BOYS OP ENGLAND, will, by request of hundreds of readers be REPRINTED IN WEEKLY NUMBERS, In a convenient form for binding when completo, SPLENDID ILLUSTRATIONS; SOTTXEB PAPER AND TYPE. ORDER EARLY OF YOUR NEWSAGENTS. CHEVY* CHASE. No. 1 will bo published Wednesday, April 20th, Price Id, Weekly; Monthly Parts, 4d. THE BOYS OF ENGLAND SWIMMING- GUIDE, (SPLENDIDLY ILLUSTRATED,) Contains practical illustrations for learning to swim, dive, float, tread water, &c, &c, PRICE 2d., OR, BY P0%T, 3d. ALSO NOW READY, THE BOYS OP ENGLAND CRICKET , GUIDE, Containing the revised rules of the game, and Portraits of renowned Cricketers. 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Reissue, in a cheap and completo form, of tho Popular Story of tho YOUNG APPRENTICE; on, THE WATCH-WORDS OF OLD LONDON, In three Divisions at One Shilling each Each division will contain, in addition to the numerous whole-page Coloured Pictures, about 24 Illustrations and 200 pages of reading, bound in stiff covers, cloth back, &c* May be had from all booksellers, price Is., or direct from our Office, 173, Pleet Street, post lree Is. 2d. IMPORTANT TO OUR HEADERS. The Splendid Story of GILES EVERGREEN: OR, FRESH FROM THE COUNTRY. NOW PUBLISHIN^ This Work will only be svpplied to order. One Penny Weekly. CASES POR BINDING. Subscribers aro requested to observe that Са«ез for Bind- ing the «* NlGHT-GUARD" and " ALONE IN ТНК PIRATES LAIR" oan be had of the Booksellers for 8d., or 9d. post free; and for "Rupert Dreadnought " for Is., or post free, ls. 2d. The Volumes of the above Works can also bo had at the following prices "Alone in the Pirates* Lair," bound in green and goW, le. 9d.; or, 2s., post free. The "Night-Guard," bound in green and gold, 2s.; or, poet free, 2«. 3d.' "Bupert Dreadnought," bound in blue and gold* ;or, ■* poet free, 4s. 6d. ORDER OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. PART XL. of the BOYS OF ENGLAND 4 IS NOW READY, Prico Sixpence ; or, Post free from our office, Sevenpence. THE MIMIC STAGE. < Our Readers are informed that all Stages for tbe Plays iaaued by Mb. Brett will bear his autograph, with the following notice pasted on the back :—.„ , « Mr. Edwin J. Brett's Stage for the Boys of I England, Young Men op Great Britain, and j Boys op thh World." I Any Stages that do not bear the above notice are only imitations of his Stages, and our Readers are requested not to purchase them. Printed and Published for the Proprietor, Edwin J. Brett, 173, Fket Street, London, B.C. Registered foh Transmission Abroad. May 1, 1870. il: • „ — '"TAKE MY ADVICE, AM) CO,' SAID THE STRANGE МАК. DISOWNED; OR, A MIS-SPENT LIFE. (THE TRUE STORY OF RICHARD SAVAGE.) 'The Night |t| the Author of " Yoong Iron-Heart," GUAHD, &C, ÄC. Al'KIL Î5, 1870. CHAPTER \.—(continued.) &\, IK LAUNCELOT was so agitated, and so out 3*v of breath, that for a moment he could not speak. Leaning up against the grey wall of the church- yard he waited a moment, while Richard, rush- ing up to him, his first benefactor, grasped him by the hand, saying— "What ails you, sir? Can I do anything for you »" Sir Launcelot, now recovering, placed his hand on Richard's head benevolently, saying— "My lad, both you and I .arc in great danger I have been hunted to-day by a set of humar bloodhounds, and I fear me I shall not even now be able to tell you all I wish." "Had we not better fly to the school ?" criei Richard, forgetting entirely the punishment thai 354 fMAT 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. would of course follow his midnight escape, and only thinking of some vague danger in the present. "No, no," said Sir Launcelot, "I am afraid that down yonder lane arc lurking a second body of villains. Listen to me. I expect that after this night I shall not see you for some time—it may be years. But, be assured that I shall con- tinue to forward to Mr. King the money for your support and education. Do not leave the school at the solicitation of anyone unless you: hear from me." He stopped for a moment as he said this, and listened. No sound broke the stillness of the night save the trilling of a night-bird. "All is safe yet, I think," murmured Sir Launcelot; "and now, boy, I will tell you some- thing of the mystery which surrounds you— something which will live with you all your life —something which will make your heart, young as it is, burn for revenge." He leaned down so that his lips approached Richard's ear. Our hero's heart beat expectantly; his eyes burned gleamingly in anticipation of the sur- prise that was coming to him. But it was not to be. Ere a word could pass, there was a rush of feet, and several dark forms came dashing out upon them from the shadow of the trees. Sir Launcelot had never sheathed his sword during the interview, and he now planted his back against one of the pillars of the old church- yard gate, and prepared to act on the defensive, at the same time exclaiming to Richard— "Fly, boy, fly 1 I can see to myself 1" "I will not leave you while you are in danger !" cried our hero, boldly. This was all he could say, for while he looked around him for a weapon the men closed in upon Sir Launcelot. "Back \ cowardly ruffians 1" shouted Sir Laun- celot, as he kept the thronging men back with the point of his sword, which seemed to flash and gleam in all their faces at the same moment, *' WJio are you, and whence como? Is it my life or money you want, that,you have hunted me thus all day?" 4 *' We neither want your money nor your life, Sir Launcelot Ashton," replied one of the men; "we want y mi, and when we have got you, either peaceably or by force, I am willing to bargain ¡ that no harm shall befal you." Sir Launcelot Ashton laughed—wildly and madly, as it seemed to Richard's ears—as if he saw the impossibility pf escape from the clutches of the men who thronged round him. ¡ "I would not take your word for the life of a fly," he cried. "I will either fîght my way, or I will die here and save you the trouble of carrying out my lady's wishes." And so saying, he made a dash in amongst them? while Richard, armed with a hedge stake which he had torn out during this colloquy, assailed some of them from behind. The conflict, however, did not last long. The men were evidently well paid, for they disregarded altogether the words and the actions of the desperate man, and, while one oí then* was cast down with a sword thrust through his arm, two others seized Sir Launcelot from behind and pinioned his arms. Then another began to tic a handkerchief over his mouth. One of the others springing aside, tore the hedge stake from Richard's hands, and flung it over the wall far away among the tombs. "You're a bravo boy, whoever you are," he cried, as ho pointed down the lane, "but that's ; your way. Against all these what can you do? Take my advice and go." i "I will not desert him," cried Richard, "he is my friend, and I'll not leave him until I see what you're going to do with him." With these words he struggled violently, and succeeded in wresting himself from the man's grasp. By this time the men had dragged Sir Launcelot Ashton to some distance in an op- posite direction to that which they had come. Resistance was, of course, of no avail. ¡\Vhen he reached the spot where they again stopped, he was seized again by the strong hand of the man who had first bade him begone, and there, helpless to aid, he saw his only friend placed in a coach, which had been concealed among the trees on the edge of the lane. Then the men jumped up, the horses began to move, and the ruffian who held Richard flung him savagely to the ground and fled. As he jumped up behind the vehicle it was driven off at full speed, and the boy, rising half broken-hearted from the ground, slowly returned along the road to school. His mind, as may well be conceived, was in a state of utter confusion and excitement. Sir Launcelot Ashton, the sole person from whom he could expect the unravelment of the mystery that enveloped his birth and his pre- sent position, was now carried from him; and, from the manner in which ho had been taken, it seemed very doubtful when, if ever, he should see him again. However, he determined to act strictly accord- ing to his wishes, and to listen to no inducements on the part of any one to quit St. Alban's school. On reaching the house, he found Newton Rae sitting at the open window, anxiously waiting his arrival, and in a few moments the rope was let down, and Richard had clambered into the bedroom. "Well," said he, as he closed the sash, and began assisting his friend to undo the knots in the bedclothes, preparatory to going to bed, "has anything happened?" "Yes," said Newton, in a whisper, "yes, you had not been gone many minutes when there came a tap at the door, and so I laid down on the bed and began snoring. "Then I heard the voice of Redford Allen say— "' Are you there, Master Farmer Y "I made no answer, so he knocked louder; and I said, щ a voice half smothered in the bed- clothes— "' Who's there V "He said no more, but went away," "Ah t I suppose ho was satisfied when -he heard that," said Richard; ".ho thought I had ran away from schooVperhaps. It would take more than his insults to make me do that. But, come, let's jump in and go to sleep. I'm worn out." CHAPTER VI. IN WHICH ШСЛЛЕВ ЦА8 A SblGHT TKIUMFII. When morning dawned, the remembrance of the last night's strange adyenture was somewhat clouded by the recollection of the proceedings of the day before, and the promise of the malignant tutor that he would have Richard well punished for his involuntary assault. On reaching the schoolroom, therefore, he was quite prepared to find Mr. King very gravely desiring him to walk up to his desk. The schoolmaster, who had been apprised im- mediately upon his arrival early that morning, of the scene in which Redford Allen had figured on the day before, had been very grave when the boys assembled for prayers, for the usher, of course, had spared no falsehoods to make his case good. But now as Richard approached him he wore a look of unusual severity. "Richard," he said, " I have heard a very sad ; story in regard to you from Mr. Allen. I plo not interfere much with your proceedings among yourselves, but I will never suffer insubordination. It seems that, taking advantage of some play, you deliberately struck Mr. Allen in the face with some knotted reeds, and forced him back into the water." "It is false, sir ; it was simply an accident," re- plied Richard. Redford Allen was about to speak. But Mr. King waved his hand to him to be silent. The bold, truthful look of the boy at once produced its effect upon the mind of the school- master. "Tell п\е, Richard," he said ; "what have you to say?" Our hero told his story, plainly and straight- forwardly. But Allen did not yet despair. He counted upon Douglas, whose enmity to- wards Richard he imagined would certainly cause him to be against him even in this. Here he was mistaken. Harry Douglas hated Richard—that was true enough. But he had also his reputation among his comrades to look to, and he knew well that, were he to tell a falsehood in regard to the scene in the meadows, every one who was present on the ground would be ready to stand forward and contradict him. "What have you to say to this, Douglas?" asked Mr. King. The boy stepped forward, disregarding the keen look of warning cast upon him by the usher. "If you please, I was captain of the other six," said he, "and I am sure that Richard only struck him accidentally. He was too much taken up with warding off my blows to have seen the face of Mr. Allen. ' Besides, we didn't expect, of course, to see it among the reeds." Mr. King glanced quickly at Redford Allen as Harry Douglas spoke, and, from the look of malicious disappointment and anger he saw on it, he at once drew his conclusion. For the sake of appearances, however, he ques- tioned one or two of the other boys, whose testi- mony was entirely in favour of Richard. "Well, Mr. Allen," he said, " I fancy that you have made a mistake. These boys all tell the same tale. I am sure they are sorry for what happened, but I cannot think it was done on purpose. Boys, to your lessons." And, amid a suppressed titter from the lads, Redford Allen had to pass away to his desk. That afternoon, on turning out into the play- ground for the traditional half hour after dinner, Richard heard a whispered conference between Douglas and Allen. "You behaved shamefully," said the voice of the tutor, who was seated behind a hedge. "I depended upon you for punishing that young villain; and I was never in my life more sur- prised than when I heard you giving evidence in his favour." "I couldn't do anything else," replied Douglas, with the careless air of one who knew he had the man in his power. "I could not disgrace myself before all the school by telling lies. But it's no use talking about that. It's over, and we'll find plenty of opportunities to pay him out yet. The question is, do you want this money?" "Yes," said Allen; "I do. And another thing, I want you to do me a favour to-night. I am going out for a little diversion, and, as I want to come in very late, I want you to slip down and unbolt the door after all are in bed. I tried Betty, but she's no use. Sho's afraid of losing her place." - "All right," replied Douglas; "I'll do it. But to business. This makes five pounds you owe me. You must pay me, mind, when you get your screw from old King, or it'll all come out. I've drawn of him by saying that my father had forgotten to send me any pocket- money." "Oh, I shall be sure to restore you all," said the usher, as he placed the chinking pieces in his pocket. "And now, as we have ten minutes more to spare, let us run across the meadow to Cumberland's, and have a tankard of his foam- ing beer." And with that Redford Allen rose and led the way across the field, followed eagerly by the boy whom he was preparing thus for future ruin and shame. "Old Skin - and - Bones is a mean - spirited hound," said Newton Rae; "but I'll tell you what, we'll punish him to-night." "How?" asked Richard, eagerly, who, of course, was anxious to punish his enemy for his malignant and unnecessary hatred. "We will wait to-night,'1 said Newton Rae, "until Douglas has unbolted the door for him, then we will bolt it again and he'll have to knock. Oh, won't there be a fine row—he's sure to come in drunk." "Drunk!" "Yes, certain. He's gone out with some fellows after his own heart, and, as sure as he comes in, he will be rolling tipsy. Mr. King MAY h 1870.] 355 BOYS OF ENGLAND. will open the door for him and there'll be euch a scene!" "But we'd better not do this together," said Hichard Farmer, "we might be discovered. It will be best to draw lots who is to do it." Newton Eae, after a little demur, consented to this, and the lot fell upon Richard Farmer. Evening at length came, and both our young conspirators were on the tiptoe of expectation. Bedford Allen obtained permission to go out, and the boys retired to rest at the usual time. It was not properly Richard's bed-room in which he had been confined on the previous night, but only a spare one; and this evening he returned to his proper quarters—that is, into a chamber containing six boys besides himself, Newton Rae being one. Harry Douglas slept in an adjoining room. "Boys," said Newton, when they had closed the door, and locked it against all intrusion, "boys, if I am not wrong, Skin-and-Bones is no favourite among you." Л succession of groans followed this. *' Well, then, I am sure you will all be glad to hear that this night he has every chance of being severely punished for his treatment of our new friend, Richard Farmer." (Cheers). "Don't make so much noise, you friends of the usher," said Rae, with a laugh, " or we shall have a visit from Douglas to see what's up. If you will listen quietly now I will explain.*' Briefly he told the plan, which, it is needless to say, was received with boundless delight, and with three suppressed cheers for our hero. When these bad been given Dick said, '* Friends, I am now going down/' "Now ?" said Rae ; "it is too sqqn." "No, no, I'll hide myself and watch Jppuglas's doings. There's a capital place there to hide be- hind Mr. King's long cloak." And so opening the door, he gently gl}ded down in his stocking feet; and without meeting any one, ensconced himself near the door. He was not at all too soon. Only ten minutes elapsed before a slight creak- ing of the stairs told that Douglas was also descending. Slowly he approached the door and noiselessly slid back the bolts. An idea now occurred to Richard, and drawing a pin from his clothes, he stuck it quickly, though slightly, into Douglas's foot. The suddenness of the shock rather than the hurt, which was but little, caused Douglas to utter a loud cry, and in an instant the schoolmaster's door was opened. » What's that?" cried he. "Is any one there?" Douglas, fearful of being caught, slunk away, and seeing a door opened, plunged headlong in, falling among sharp and dirty lumps of coal, for he had, in his hurry, crept into the coal- cellar. His mouth was closed now, however, in spite of the pain and inconvenience he felt; and the heavy tread of Mr. King was now heard descend- ing from the first floor. Richard began now to tremble for himself, for if he were found in such an equivocal position he would certainly have to make a clean breast of it. However, Mr. King did not make any investigation, but walked straight to the door. "Bless me, bless me 1" he said; "how care- less, to be sure! The door is not even bolted. I must speak to Allen in the morning about this." He, of course, imagined that the usher was in and was now comfortably snoring in bed; and, having bolted the door, he once more ascended the stairs. Douglas, who had heard all, crept back, and once more undoing the fastenings, glided away to his room. Richard at once secured the door, and, after a few minutes, ascended also. The trick was better than ever now, for it would be an utter mystery to Douglas how the door came to be locked twice. The roar of laughter which greeted Douglas's entrance into his room told the conspirators what state he was in; but there was no time now for the indulgence of mirth. They must lie still and patiently now for the! denouement. | CHAPTER VII. REDFORD ALLEN MAKES HIS FIRST ESSAY m COMEDY. For two hours the old school-house was wrapped in the most complete quietude. The interior seemed as still and solemn as the moonlight that lay upon the green sward in ex- quisite silver patches. Everyone, even our hero (who had made a re- solution to remain awake to see the fun) had nodded off to sleep, when on the still air there rang out a wild, unearthly yell. A yell enough to wake the dead! A long, despairing yell as from one in mortal agony or terror. Not a living being was there in the whole of I St. Alban's school-house but heard it ; and, In a [few minutes, Mr. King, who slept in a room I overlooking the playground, was looking out of the window in terror. It was from the playground that the sound of I woe had proceeded, and the boys in our hero's i room had here the best of it, as their room was I directly above that of the master's, and in a moment every head was poked out in the utmost anxiety. For a moment nothing could be seen until a suppressed groan drew their attention to a spot where two black things were waving about in the moonlight like the arms of a windmill. "Dear me ! give me my pistols, Emma," cried Mr. King. "1 must go and see to this." "Quick, Newton, dress!" cried Richard Farmer, slipping on his things; "we must go down and help Mr. King, and see, too, what is the matter." Before, however, we descend also into the playground with our hero and his companions, we must follow the steps of the usher, and tell I how he fared. Haying spent his evening as Newton had said, in the company of his "congenial spirits," he sallied forth from the "Bishop and Sceptre" about midnight. He was in that happy state at this moment, that for some few moments he stood swaying to : and fro on the rough 'pavement, in a state of I utter uncertainty as to which way he was to go; but at length a dim recollection seemed to rush into his addled brain, and he began his route. How many times he rolled from the pavement into the road, how many times he embraced the trees in frantic efforts to save himself, or how he stood now and then apostrophis- ing, in no very measured terms, the double moon and double lamps, and double everything which appeared to his muddled brain, I need not ¡ pause to tell. ! At length, by great physical exertion, he reached the school door, and producing a key from his pocket inserted it in the lock. But in vain, of course. "Well, this—is—stop—bad," he spluttered. "I'll pay Dick out for this. This was done on purpose, I s'pose. What's to be done?" He stood for a minute* or two scratching his head for ideas. Then, at length, a magnificent scheme pre- sented itself to his mind. Towards the -window of one of the spare rooms there ascended a sloping roof which was easily reached from the playground by any one in their sober senses. This window was rarely fastened, and the room door had no lock. i He would scale the playground wall, therefore, | and then, crawling up the ascending roof, defeat i the machinations of Harry Douglas. No sooner thought of than attempted. Crawling up the wall, he succeeded in reach- ing the top; but no sooner had he done so than he tried to rise, lost his balance, and fell head foremost into a water-butt. Fortunately for him there was no water in it, only a thick sediment of mud and dirt and re- fuse. Otherwise he would certainly have been choked. As it was he could not move or even call for help. The one despairing cry—the yell of terror which had roused up all the inmates of the schoolhousc—had escaped his lips as he fell. Then, except occasional moanings, all was silent. The schoolmaster and a crowd of boys were soon in the ground ; but except the lads who were in the secret, no one had any suspicion that the long legs which were waving about so idiotically in the air were those of the usher. "What is the matter? How did you get there?" asked Mr. King. "Who are you?" A long groan of agony was the only response to these enquiries. "It is some thief," said Mr. King, grasping the pistol he had brought with him. "Pull him out, boys. Don't be afraid. I'll shoot him if he tries to move." The lads, who had now recognized the long, lanky legs of Skin-and-Bones, now seized hold of them and drew him out. "Bring him," cried Mr. King, "we'll lock him up all night, and he shall go to the lock-up in the morning." In a few moments Redford Allen stood in the hall in the full glare of the lighted lamp. His mouth was so full of dirt, and he was so exhausted, that he had been unable to give any account of himself ; but, now that he was recog- nised by all, he was greeted with a roar of laughter, in which the schoolmaster could not help joining. He did indeed look a most comical figure. His face was ghastly pale, his eyes blood- stained, his hair full of thick mud streaming over his features, his mouth blubbery, his features hardly distinguishable for filth, which dripped, too, from his lace handkerchief. He glanced at the assembled group with an idiotic stare, for in consequence of the blood which had been forced into his brain by stand- ing on his head he had not become sober. "Well, sir 1 this is pretty behaviour, and a pretty example to my pupils," said Mr. King, when at length he recovered from his explosion of laughter. "Pray explain yourself." "I think I'd rather go to bed," said Skin-and- Bones, who was really so exhausted that had he not been' held up by the boys he would have fallen. "Go, then, sir,", said Mr. King, severely, "and in the morning let me see you in my private study, before prayers." The usher without another word staggered up to his room, and the school-house spon re- sumed its usual quiet.: The next morning prayers were said very late, and Bedford Allen came into the room, looking very spruce, but very serious. He did not leave the school till he had evi- dently had a severe talking to. CHAPTER VIII. THE MYSTERY OF THE OLD TORTRA1T GALLERY —PREPARATIONS FOR PLEASANT HOURS. Time glided away, and the pleasant month of June came in. During this time a simple event had taken place, but one which influenced in a great de- gree our hero's future life. I have said that the grounds of St. Alban's School joined the estate of Sir Humphrey Allcr- ton, and that the stream, whose deep waters had been so disastrous to lledford Allen, fqrmcd a kind of boundary. Wandering here one night he saw a vision of beauty—a young girl of his own age, with lovely bright blue eyes and dark brown hair and a sylph-like form. With this little fairy, the daughter of Sir Humphrey, he soon formed an acquaintance, and many & half hour, when he was anxiously looked for in the playground, he could have been found sitting by the side of the stream, twining flowers to deck her hair. It was upon one evening, in the dusk, that Millicent Allerton and Richard were just taking leave, that Sir Humphrey approached them. He smiled as he saw their confusion, "Fear not, my lad," he said, "fear not. I have heard of you from Millicent and from Sir Launcelot Ashton. Come with me, and let us have a nearer inspection of you." The tall, grand old man somewhat overawed the schoolboy. 356 [MAT 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. "I am afraid I shall be lato from the school," he stammered. "Never mind," replied Sir Humphrey. "I will see that you are not in trouble through me. Come, we shall just be in time for supper." So saying, he took Millicent's hand, and, patting Richard familiarly on the head, led the way towards the Hall. I shall not pause to describe the place. It was a splendid specimen of an old ancestral mansion, and that is saying enough. The supper was a very formal one, but yet both Sir Humphrey and Lady Allerton made him welcome, and after the meal was over, the baronet said— "Do you like pictures, Master Richard Sav I mean Farmer?" "Yes, sir; I worship them," said our hero, truthfully. "Then I will show you my gallery," he added, with a significant look at his wife. "Come ; you, Millie, may come too." The grand, dreary old corridor was full of strange portraits—portraits of ancient ancestors —of grim old knights, and dames of high degree, and Richard stared and wondered as he passed through it. Sir Humphrey seemed to take a wonderful interest all of a sudden in this monumental cor- ridor through which he had paced so often— which was his favourite walk—which he, in fact, knew by heart. Presently, stopping opposite the portrait of a lady, he turned upon it the full light of the lamp he carried, saying, "There is a lovely face, child. Look at it." It was indeed a beautiful being whose linea- ments were there pourtrayed upon the canvas. "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever," says the poet; and truly, a glance at such a face would form in your mind an idea that would never leave it until death. Bright blue eyes—golden curls—sunlit cheeks —laughing lips. Richard stood and gazed as one petrified. A faintness invaded his heart. The beauty of what ho saw seemed to dazzle and bewilder, not please him, and he leaned against the wall for support, hiding his face. "What ails you, boy?" asked Sir Humphrey, kindly. "Tell me." "I do not know," said Richard, clutching Millie's hand," but I was wishing that such a face as that might be my mother's." "Good God !—I mean, my dear boy," said Sir Humphrey, as he fixed his eyes intently upon him, " perhaps your wish may be gratified some day. Let us go back to the ladies." Then he muttered to himself— "By Heaven! Sir Launcelot has spoken the truth, and, if /live, he shall be righted." Richard heard the words, and saw the manner, and in his heart, from that moment, wild hopes and desires arose, which the Future, big with disappointment, was destined to scorn and over- throw. He had too much sense of his age and pecu- liar position in the house to ask Sir Humphrey Allerton the moaning of his words, though he yearned to do so, and soon after he took leave of his new friends, and departed with a note from Sir Humphrey Allerton, stating who had detained him. "Suppose we have a pic-nic," said Douglas to Newton Rao on the next day; "it will be a half holiday to-morrow, and the weather pro- mises to be fine." Newton, of course, greeted the idea with de- light, but he naturally deplored the absence of "the girls." "Oh," laughed our hero, "my mind's made up on that point; we'll have the girls too. I've told Millie Allerton of the scheme, and she'll bring six other friends." "How jolly! But old Skin-and-Bones, how shall we get his consent? He'll be sure to go too." "Yes; but he'll be in good humour. He's going to take us to Lanborne Lake, you know, and—but, come, will you leave it to me?" "Yes, with all my heart. 'But how about the provisions?" "We'll go down town to-night and get them; or, better still, we'll collect the boys, get their money, and take old Betty into our confidence. She'll know best what to get." This plan was at onee agreed on, and received by all, even Harry Douglas, with inexpressible delight. As may be imagined, the dawn of that day was looked forward to with eager impatience. At length the morning broke, bright and beautiful. Golden beams, on the cornfields, on the green pastures, on the shimmery lake far away, on the old ruins. The two hours of study, which (it being Satur- day) was all that was demanded of them, ap- peared quite endless, but at length the wished- for hour of dinner came. The dinner itself, of course, was non eat, as, by permission of Mr. King, the pic-nic was to take place at the old ruins. Bedford Allen was in high spirits. Fish of every kind was to be found in the lake beneath the shadow of the old castle, and he looked forward with unaffected delight to the hours which would succeed the more noisy pleasures of the boys. Sotheladssetout in joyous spirits, little dreaming of the extraordinary event which would turn their pleasant party into a scene of discord. Released from school discipline, they danced mer- rily along the sunlit lanes and across the meadows, until at length the place of destination was reached. The ruins were those of a castle which had suffered attack from many a hostile army, and only a wall or two, with pancless win- dows, reared their heads above the greensward: ex- cepting only the keep, which, battered and moss covered, still frowned over the pleasant, quiet waters of the lake. Within the walls, in the shadow of this keep, the boys assembled, and soon began the unlading of their baskets. This operation did not occupy any great space of time, and soon white cloths concealed the greensward, and pies and pâtés, and wine and cakes, and sundry other delicacies, were placed on them. The usher's surprise at these delicacies was scarcely over, when a bevy of pretty, bright-eyed girls.burst into the enclosure, and, to his horror, took their seats on the green grass among the laughing scholars. (To be continued. Commenced in No. 17S.) ROMANCE OF FRENCH HISTORY. FROM THE EARLIEST AGES. By the Author of •' Past and Pbesent," fcc, &c. ÜR last chapter contained an account of the frightful events which desecrated the Sabbath on the 25th June, 1848. On Monday morning, the 2Gth, the rebels continued to defend their barricades with the most obstinate de- termination, and some of these barricades were as formidable as regular engineers could have constructed, being built of paving stones of a hundredweight each, and blocks of building stone weighing tons. The houses covering them were occupied, and from them a deadly fire was kept on troops who could hardly see their opponents. General Lamoricière, who directed in person the operations of the troops, ordered cannon and mortars to be brought up, and after the heavy artillery had made a clear breach through the An Elmira deacon, in speaking in a late week-day meeting, exhorted his hearers to prepare for death, "as," said he, "if nobody dies in our society during the present year, our sexton will have to give up hie undertaking business." "You say," said a judge to a witness, "that the plaintiff resorted to an ingenious use of circumstan- tial evidence; state just exactly what you mean by that." "Well," said the witness, " my exact mean- ing is that he lied." Manly Employment.—Before the invention of jack chains, poor boys were hired to turn the spits in the kitchens of the wealthy, and an old writer says, "They licked the dripping-pan, and grew to be huge, lusty knaves." The Root of Irish Evil.—It used to be said that the Irish people were unwise in relying on the potato. Their reliance on 'taturs was foolish enough, but still more foolish is their faith in agitators. "Doctor, how came you and 'Squire Lucas to be such great friends?" "I don't know, unless it was because I attended his wife when she was attacked with diptlieria, and was unable to cure her." ARTILLERY ATTACKING THE BARRICADES. barriers and reduced many of the adjacent houses to a heap of ruins, the soldiers rushed in and put to the sword all whom they found with arms in their hands on the other side. The chief point of attack was the celebrated Faubourg St. Antoine, which we have already mentioned as having been distinguished in all Parisian insurrections. It was surrounded by troops on all sides with- in the city; and it was thought that this focus of revolutionary fury would only yield after a severe bombardment. The artillery was placed in position, and General Lamoricière was about to begin the cannonade, when General Cavaignac ordered that a summons should be sent to the infatuated inhabitants to surrender before opening fire. A certain time was given, and when this had passed, the attack began. Soon, however, an individual appeared with a flag of truce, and stated that the insurgents were willing to surrender on the terms proposed by General Cavaignac. Some delay and misunderstanding at first took place, and the combat was partially re- newed; but a second negotiation was opened, and the Faubourg finally capitulated. General Cavaignac, upon this, at once re- signed his dictatorship, and was then unani- mously invested by the National Assembly with the office of President of the Council; or, in other words, was made Prime Minister. The Assembly, or House of Commons, now proceeded to draw up a constitution, of which the outline was as follows :— The legislative power was to be vested in a single Chamber, called the National Assembly, consisting of 750 members, elected by universal suffrage, with a maximum duration of three years. The executive power was to be vested in a president, elected for four years by universal suffrage, with himself and his relations in the May 1, 1870.] 357 BOYS OF ENGLAND. sixth degree ineligible for the next term. The national representatives were to receive 25 francs, or a pound a day, and the president about twenty-five thousand pounds a year, with a residence. The proclamation of the new Constitution took place on the 12th November, amidst the roar of cannon, and the display oí military pomp, and the public mind was almost entirely absorbed by the subject of the election of the first President of the Republic. The contest lay between General Cavaignac and Louis Napoleon Buonaparte, nephew of the limpe- ror, and eldest surviving son of Louis, ex-king of Holland, who had been elected to the Assembly by Paris and several other con- stituencies. The result of the election was, I hat the latter was made President riu the 10th December, 1848, by an i-normous majority, the votes being as follows :— 5.434,220 1,448,107 370,119 36,900 17,910 remember, hostile parties; the Arabs being quite as loath to give up their arid deserts as the red men have been to quit the woods and prairies of America. But the French were gifted with indomitable perseverance and energy. If a small party of them happened to be de- feated, a larger band quickly came to avenge their comrades. Louis Napoleon Cavaignac . . Ledru Bollin Haspail . . . Lamartine . . It is intercstincr to that, in the course of the speech which Louis Napoleon made when lie first assumed his office of Presi- dent, he said, " We have, Citizen representatives, a great mission to fulfil—it is to found a Republic."' In concluding our narrative of the events in France during the year 1818, it will be instruc- tive to notice the rapid rise, and equally rapid fall of the popular favourites there. Since the revolution of February three names stood pro- minently forward—Lamartine, Cavaignac, and LOUIS NAPOLEON ADDRESSING THE CHAMBER OP REPRESENTATIVES, A chief named Abd-el-Helim gave the French outposts almost as much trouble as Abd-cl-Kader had done. Finding it almost impossible to subdue this wild son of the desert by force, it was resolved to open négociations with him, and if possible to get him to acknowledge the French supremacy interval of decorous silence, began to speak of the many advantages that would accrue from an alliance between the two hostile powers; all of which Abd-el-Helim listened to with a grave face. When they had finished he spoke, saying that no one desired peace more than himself. Then the French produced a document fairly written in Arabic characters, which they wished the chief to sign. Its purport was to bind Abd-el- Helim to pay a yearly tribute and - 4 wHu.wledge the invaders as his !l2i-.' masters. He declined to do so; angry words followed, and, as the sheik had a large force near at hand, the French began to fancy their lives in danger. Hospitality, is, however, such a sacred law among the Arabs, that, although urged to put his visitors to death, Abd-el-Helim not only refused to do so, but gave them an escort of his own most trusty men to be their defence till they came near the French outposts. But now comes the worst part of the story. A few weeks afterwards Abd- el-Helim was invited to the French head-quarters, where his hosts, in- stead of treating him with honour, seized him, and sent him as a prisoner to France. It cannot be denied that many cruel deeds were done by both parties. (To be continued. Commenced in No. 132.) The wretch who can etand in a pair of slippers worked for him by his wife and scold her, is a brute who deserves to have the gout in both feet. FRENCH OFFICERS IN THE TENT OF ABD-EL-HELIM. Louis Napoleon, and at the close of the year the former two were almost forgotten. ***** Turning aside from Parisian affairs, let us take a glance at the progress of the French arms in their North African colony of Algeria. A colony I have called it, and so, to a certain extent it was, being colonized by settlers who occupied the more fertile spots, under the protec- tion of French soldiers. Encounters constantly took place between the in Algeria. A party of officers accordingly sought him, and were soon conducted by Arab scouts to the presence of the sheik, who was seated on a carpet beneath a tent, his favourite steed stand- ing near. When Abd-el-Helim was informed of his visitors' object, he courteously invited them to be seated on cushions, then ordered pipes and small cups of the finest coffee to be placed before them. They accepted his hospitality, and after an An old lady bought a shroud for her husband the other day, remarking that he was not dead yet, or particularly ailing, but she "didn't think ehe should ever be able to buy it so cheap again." A Western paper, in recommending a candi- date for office, said that il during the rebellion he received wounds enough to kül any ordinary mule." The Most Exclusive Circle.—The Arctic circle, which no one has succeeded in getting into. Show may be easily bought; happiness is home- made. 358 [Mat 1,1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. TOM LESTER: OR, THE SECRET OF THE KED POCKET-BOOK. By the Author of11 Вов Lumley's Secret." CHAPTER XXXV.—(continued). =¡HÉ man led a horse, which he mounted on getting clear of the trees, and rode off at a rapid pace. Fenton had carried his in- sensible burden about a mile, when, as he paused to rest, the youth showed signs of returning consciousness. He opened his eyes, recognised Fenton, and, staggering to his feet, looked around. "Did you see who did it ?" said he. "No, my boy," replied the farmer. "The shots came from the forest, and I could see nothing. Some of that murdering Californian gang, I dare say. How do you feel, lad?" "It is painful," said Tom, raising his hand to his wounded head; "but I can walk now, and Lizzie and her mother will be less scared if they see that I am able to walk." He was very pale, however, and walked fal- teringly. They were met at the door of the house by Lizzie and her mother, who were scarcely less pale than our hero. "What has happened?" inquired Mrs. Fenton, anxiously. "Are you much hurt, Tom?" said Lizzie, lay- ing one hand on Iiis arm, the other on his shoulder, and looking with an air of concern into his countenance, the pallor of which was made more terrible in appearance by the crimson drops that trickled slowly from his wound. "It is only a graze, Lizzie," he replied, with a faint smile, intended to assure her, "but it bled much, and the shock stunned me for a time, and I have not quite got over it." "It is a mercy he was not killed," observed Fenton. "The ûrst shot passed close to his head, and if he had not turned to see where it came from, the second must have gone through his skull." "ShotГ exclaimed Lizzie and her mother together. "Aye," said the farmer. "But never mind talking about it, missus. Doctor it up a bit, and I will tell you the story afterwards." Tom sat down, and submitted his wounded head to the examination of Mrs. Fenton; and Lizzie stood by, looking with tender compassion upon our hero as her mother unfolded the band- age, washed the blood from the furrow ploughed by the bullet, clipped off the hair with her scissors, and covered the wound with adhesive plaster, after carefully drawing together the lacerated edges. "Oh, poor Tom 1" she murmured, softly, while the tears gathered in her blue eyes as she saw the extent of the injury. And she felt that she should have fainted but for the reflection that she was alleviating his suffering in some degree by the aid she was able to render her mother while performing the operation. A linen bandage was placed over the plaster, and then Tom laid down upon the sofa, with Lizzie upon a chair near him; and the farmer told the brief story of the two shots fired from the forest. "And now I will go and fetch the game," said the farmer, rising; "and, as there seems to be some more of those cut-throat Californians about, I will take my gun," he added, as he lifted a double-barrelled gun from its place over the mantel. He went out, and Mrs. Fenton and her daughter busied themselves about the affairs of the household, leaving Tom to indulge in a pleasing reverie, notwithstanding the pain of his wound, upon the tender feeling which it had caused to be displayed by Lizzie. "She loves me !" he thought, as he closed his eyes, yielding to the somnolent tendency pro- duced by his wound. "This sweet violet of the bush loves me, and some day will be my wife 1" Under the influeuce of this blissful thought, he was about to yield to the inclination to slumber when he felt his forehead just touched by Lizzie's lips, and heard a soft billing sound, almost inaudible. He opened his eyes slowly, and looked around. He saw no one, but his ears caught the sound of light footsteps, stepping softly on the carpet, leaving the room. CHAPTER XXXVL LUKE DEMPSTER. Though several days elapsed before our hero's wound was quite healed, he was well enough, on the day after he received it, to make Mrs. Fenton thankful for the heavy downpour of rain which, for several days, kept him indoors, and thus lessened the danger of inflammation and fever. The evidence afforded by the attempt to shoot him that he was the object of a vindictive feel- ing to some one in the neighbourhood, created no small anxiety to the inmates of the farm- house; and it was not without apprehensions of evil that they saw him, availing of the cessation of the rain, set out for a gallop in the bush. "I will keep away from the forest," said he, mounting his fine black horse, "and I have got my revolver; so you need not fear for my safety." He rode off in the direction of the lake, on the banks of which the kangaroos had been snared, but in a course farther from the forest than the one which he and Fenton had pursued on that occasion. As he came near the lake, he was surprised by the sight of the prints of a horse's feet in the wet earth, for neither himself nor Fenton had been that way on horseback since he had been at the farm, and in the Australian wilds such evidencies of a stranger's proximity attracted, twenty years ago, a close scrutiny. The horse had come from the Black Forest, and gone to the eastward over an undulating plain, the extremity of which was lost in the distance. The position of the hoof-prints, relatively to each other, showed that the animal had been going at a gallop. Tern had reined his horse to make these ob- servations, which prompted him to glance towards the forest, and make a mental estimate of the distance of the lake from the spot where he had been shot. Then he turned his horse in that direction, and followed the hoof-prints over the wet ground past the spots where he had fallen, and into the scrub that margined the forest. He was obliged to alight and lead his horse by the bridle, in order to trace the marks where they were overhung by bushes. They led him just within the forest, where they were mixed with others turned in various directions, as if the horse had been there turned round. While Tom stood still reflecting upon the strangeness of a horseman entering the forest, knowing, as he would j if acquainted with the bush, that he could not proceed more than a few yards, and coupling it with the attempt upon his life, he observed a piece of paper fluttering from a shrub, and immediately picked it up. It was a portion of the fly-leaf of a book, upon which he read, with a start of surprise, the name of Dempster. "Stranger and stranger I" he murmured, as he placed the scrap of paper in his pocket. "I remember that Luke Dempster would not Bhake hands with me, that he seemed very grumpy; but why should he seek my life?" Pondering this matter in his mind, and more interested than before in the solution of the mystery, he led his horse into the scrub, and was about to mount, when he discerned some- thing lying upon the ground, which he picked up, and found to be a scorched fragment of paper which had been used as a wad for a gun. Upon unfolding it, he found, still legible, the name "Luke " in the same handwriting as that of Dempster. The wad and the piece of paper found in the forest had evidently formed portions of the same leaf. He secured this also, and then mounted his horse, and galloped back to Fenton's farm. "You be soon back, lad," exclaimed the farmer. "Why, what be the matter now?" "I have found something," replied Tom. "The marks of a horse's feet tempted me to break my promise not to go near the forest, and I followed them till they ended just within it. There I picked up a piece of paper, ánd at a little distance in the scrub, in a line from where the horse had been turned round to the spot where I was shot, I found another piece which had been used as a wad. Here are the two pieces." As he produced them, holding them together éo as to join the baptismal name to the surname, the farmer and his wife started, and Lizzie uttered a faint cry, and pressed her hand upon her heart. "Luke Dempster!" exclaimed Mrs. Fenton. '* It was that evening, too, when he had been here. I should not have believed him wicked enough for this if it had not been for this evidence." "He shall answer this 1" exclaimed the farmer, clapping his hat on his head energeti- cally, and reaching down his gun. "We will ride over to his place—Master Lester, and I and Jack—and arrest him, and to-morrow he shall ride with us to Melbourne, and be lodged in gaol." In a few minutes they were ready, Jack carry- ing a handsome gun belonging to our hero, and Lizzie and her mother, pale and agitated, stand- ing at the door mentally praying for their safe return. A ride of twenty miles, now over undulating pasture land, then through a far stretching expanse of scrub, there and again over green pastures, dotted with cattle, brought them to Dempster's farm. A strong-limbed chesnut horse stood before the door, held by one of Dempster's "black fellows," as the aborigines are termed by the colonists all over the Australian continent. "Is your master at home?" inquired Fenton, as they alighted from their horses. "Him in there," replied the black man, point- ing towards the half-open door. At the same moment Luke Dempster appeared in the opening, and started back with a scared look on seeing who were his unexpected and unwelcome visitors. "Master Dempster," said Fenton, stepping, gun in hand, into the room, "you are charged with the attempted murder of Master Lester, and we are here to call upon you to surrender, and to stand your trial at Melbourne for the offence." "Who accuses me?" exclaimed Dempster, in a hoarse voice, as soon as he had recovered from his surprise sufficiently to speak. "What evi- dence have you to support this charge?" "The** evidence," said our hero, looking in- tently at the young fariner to observe the effect of his communication, "consists of a piece of paper picked up on the spot from which the shots were fired, and another which served аз the wad of the gun." "How do you connect those fragments of paper with me?" inquired Dernpster, nerving himself for the worst. "The two pieces joined together show your name written on them*," replied Tom. Dempster started, and stepped back a pace or two. He seemed unprepared for this discovery, having probably been unaware till that moment that he had used the leaf in question for the purpose referred to. "Enough," said he ; "I shall reserve my answer to the charge until I am before a legally consti- tuted tribunal." "Consider yourself in our custody until we can hand you over to the police," said Fenton, sitting down. "If you have any orders to give you had better give them at once." "Let me think a bit," said Dempster, sitting down, and leaning his elbows on his knees. "This has come upon me so suddenly and un- expectedly that I do not know what I ought to do." Mat i, 1870.J 359 BOYS OF ENGLAND. He sat a few minutes, grinding bis teeth, and j then rose slowly, and leaned against the mantel. The next moment he sprang forward suddenly, shook off the grasp of Tom Lester, who strove to detain him, knocked down the aborigine, and dashed out of the house. "After him !" exclaimed Fenton, springing to i his feet, and rushing out. Tom and the aborigine followed, and were just in time to sec Dempster galloping off at a terrific pace. "Shall I shoot, master?" said Jack, raising his gun. "No, no !" exclaimed Fenton. "Mount, and follow him 1" In another moment, all three were in the saddle, and riding furiously in pursuit of the fugitive. Dempster had so little the start of them that, had pursuers and pursued been equal in other respects, his capture would scarcely have been doubtful; but he had the advantage of bestriding a horse fresh from the stable, and soon began to increase his lead. It soon became evident that the light would not last long enough to enable them to continue the pursuit with any prospect of success, and at length, when the fugitive had been lost sight of in the grey haze that began to bound the view on every side, and a drizzling rain increased the gloom that overspread the wilderness, they reined rtheir panting steeds, and turned them towards their far-off bome. CHAPTER XXXVII. AN INUNDATION. Three years passed after the incidents related in the preceding chapter without anything oc- curring to require narration. Luke Dempster was not seen by our hero or the inmates of Fenton's farm after his flight, and his men protested to Fenton, who rode over one day to make inquiries, that they had not seen him since. Time passed on, however, and the fact that the farm neither changed hands, nor was ne- glected by the "black fellows," caused Tom Lester and his friends, the Fentons, to entertain the suspicion that Dempster was in hiding somewhere, and paid secret visits to the farm at intervals. Early in the following spring our hero pro- ceeded to Melbourne to procure materials for the erection of a wooden house on the spot where the tent had stood, and some common furniture to increase its comfort. It was while he was in Melbourne that the first arrival of Chinese immigrants occurred, and Tom, who saw them land, saw in them the means of carrying into execution an idea which he had been revolving in his mind since the departure of Dick and the negro. He accosted the broad-faced, yellow»com- plcxioned, pig-tailed Chinamen on the quay, and there and then engaged six of them to work for him at a rate of wages, exclusive of board and lodging, which made them stare. Labour being thus procured in an unexpected manner, Tom set out for his location, after ordering, through the Melbourne agent of an English engineering firm, a quartz-crushing mill and a small steam-engine to drive it. Until these arrived, and were set up in a wooden shed adjoining his house, he and his Chinese labourers worked in the same imperfect manner as he and his former assistants had done; but the application of machinery worked a great change in the arrangements and in the results. The quartz was crushed to powder in the mill, and the gold separated by the process of mer- curial amalgamation, which Tom had studied for the purpose. Machinery, the doubling of the supply of labour, and the complete separation of the gold, increased the yield of the mine so much that at the end of three years Tom found himself worth twenty thousand pounds. During this time he had been a frequent visitor to Fenton's farm as the accepted suitor of'Lizzie* Such was the situation of affairs at the time when we resume the thread of our story. It was towards the close of the wet season, which Tom was now enabled to contend with by having all his operations performed under cover, and the excavation kept free from water by the use of a pump, worked by the steam engine that supplied the power for the crushing-mill. The winter had been the wettest which he had experienced, and he had heard of floods in several low-lying portions of the Port Philip district. Awaking one morning a little after daybreak, he heard the fall roaring louder than he had ever heard before, and, leaving his bed to cast an anxious glance from his window in that direction, saw a broad brown stream shining in the grey light of early morning, where there was usually no water to be seen, the course of the stream being concealed by the shrubs that margined its banks. The stream had been rising for several days, but its volume and breadth had increased during i the night much more rapidly. Recollecting the situation of Fenton's farm at the bottom of a slope declining from the eastern border of the Black Forest, and what he had heard on his last visit of the swollen lake and flooded pastures in its vicinity, he immediately dressed himself, with the intention of riding over to ascertain the safety of the inmates. Calling up the Englishman whö attended the machinery, and informing him of his intention, he saddled and bridled his horse, and cantered towards the stream. Both the stream and the fall had been so transformed that a stranger who had seen them only in the dry season would not have recog- nised them. Instead of foaming oyer a ledge of broken rocks, the water fell in a broad brown sheet, covering the crags and shrubs to which it owed its picturesqueness in the summer, and pouring along in a wide stream that stretched far beyond its ordinary limits. Tom urged his horse into the stream cautiously until the water reached the stirrups, when finding that he had not yet reached the middle, and that the animal hesitated to proceed, he wheeled him round, and, splashing through the turbid water that had overflowed the banks, galloped through the scrub until he came to a place where the precipice over which the stream fell was only three or four feet above the lower level on which his horse stood. Urging his horse up this bank, he galloped over the plain beyond towards the upper course of the stream, where he expected to find its passage much less difficult. In this he was not disappointed, the stream, though greatly augumented in breadth, not being too deep for him to ride through it; and jin a few minutes he had passed it, and was galloping over the plain upon which he had rested on the night when he was lost in the forest. As he rode onward he saw numerous rills ploughing channels for themselves in the soft alluvial soil, and all running in the direction of Fenton's farm, whilst here and there in the distance large sheets of water met his gaze when he looked around. With the sound of running water always in his ears, he rode swiftly onward, and reached at length the brow of the slope below which Fenton's farm was situated. There a scene met his anxious gaze for which nothing which he had yet seen of the effects of the heavy and long-continued rain had prepared him. On the roof of the house, which was sur- rounded by water, extending on the side most remote from our hero's point of view for several miles, stood Lizzie and her mother, gazing around them with dismay impressed upon every feature. Tom's heart stood still for a moment at the sight, and then began beating tumultuously as he dashed down the slope, and plunged into the water, which, by the time he had reached the house, rose above his stirrups. A ladder standing near an open window showed the means by which Lizzie and her mother had reached the roof, and upon the lower roof of an outbuilding he saw Farmer Fenton, working hard at the construction of a raft, made by securing several barrels together, and cover- them with planks. "Oh, Tom 1" exclaimed Lizzie, clasping her hands, "what will become of us? Are you, too, flooded out?" "Courage, dear," said Tom, as he urged his horse up to the ladder, and ascended by it to the roof. 4* There has been no rain since last night, and the water has, I hope and pray, reached its greatest height. My own place is yet above water, though the stream has swollen to three times its usual breadth." "Pray Heaven we see the worst 1" said Mrs. Fenton. <( We were afraid to go to bed last night, for the water was rising fast, and at mid- night it jnvaded the house, rising higher and higher until it drove us up here." "I see Mr. Fenton is making a raft," observed Tom, "and I shall lene} him a hand, though I fervently trust that it will not be needed." "Welcome, my lad/' exclaimed Fenton, look- ing up for a moment from his work, as Tom leaped on the roof of the outhouse. "There is nothing like preparing in time, though I hope with you that the water will rise no higher." Tom worked hard upon the raft until it was completed, for he saw every time he glanced to- wards the house that the water was still gradually rising, as innumerable rills flowed down the slope which he had descended, and that which rose towards the forest. "Now we will see about dinner," said the farmer, when the raft was completed; and, clambering over the roof of the house, he descended the ladder, passed through the window, and made his way to the larder by stepping upon the furniture. "Is not the water still rising?" said Lizzie, placing her small white hands upon Tom's shoulders as he stepped upon the roof, and looked anxiously up at him. "Tell me the truth, Tom." "It is," he replied. "But do not look so terrified, my dear Lizzie. The raft is now com- pleted, and at the worst that will bear us to safety." As he spoke, a distant rumbling sound reached their ears from the direction in which our hero had come, and caused them to turn round. "What was that?" said Lizzie, in a tone of extreme terror. "Surely not thunder 1" Tom said nothing, but looked anxiously towards the brow of the slope he had descended. For a few minutes all was still, and then, at several points at once, a volume of turbid water rolled over the brow of the hill, and poured down like a cataract, bringing with it uprooted trees and masses of soil held together by creeping plants and the roots of shrubs. "To the raft 1" exclaimed Tom, catching Lizzie in his arms. His horse, terrified by the sudden rush of water, snorted violently, plunged until he tore out the staple to which Tom had secured the bridle, and plunged into the flood. "George ! George 1" cried Mrs. Fenton, wring- ing her hands. The house rocked for a moment as the rushing waters undermined its slight foundation, and lifted it by the pressure of the air between the water and the ceiling, and then, as Tom sprang towards the raft, with Lizzie in his arms, it gave way with a fearful crash, and the wild flood roared and foamed over its ruins. CHAPTER XXXVIII, ON THE RAFT. Tom alighted safely on the raft, with the almost fainting girl in his arms, and the hurried look which he threw towards the house showed him the building breaking up, and the water roaring and foaming like a cataract through and over it. "Oh, my mother !" cried Lizzie, clasping her hands tightly, whilst every trace of colour left her cheeks and lips, and then she became insen- sible. Tom allowed her to sink down upon the raft, which was tossing madly on the surging flood, 360 [Mat 1,18"0. BOYS OF ENGLAND. "' BEE I' EXCLAIMED MBS. FENTON, 'WHAT IS TUAT ?'" and stooped to catch the clothes of Mrs. Fenton as the poor woman was swept along, drenched to the skin and half choked by the turbid water. "My husband! Save my husband 1" she gasped, as Tom succeeded in clutching her gar- ments, and dragging her on to the raft. Tom turned a painfully anxious look towards the ruins of the farm-house, but could see nothing but the wild flood plunging and roaring over them, and the broken timbers, articles of furniture, and uprooted trees which it bore upon its foaming surface. In a few minutes no trace of the house could be seen, and the raft was being carried by the Tush of the flood far away from it. Tom had provided a pole to guide the fanner's ark, but in the buffeting which the raft had to sustain at the moment when it was launched upon the waete of waters, it had been lost. Even, therefore, if the current had not been too strong, it would have been impossible to return. "We cannot help him, Mrs. Fenton," said Tom, sorrowfully. "We can but pray for him, and trust him to the mercy of Heaven." The poor woman wept and wrung her hands piteously as the raft drifted further and further from the ruins of her home, from the receding site of which she could not remove her gaze. Tom knelt down by the side of the insensible Lizzie, and strove, by dashing water on her forehead and chafing her hands, to restore her to consciousness. In this he at length succeeded. Lizzie opened her eyes, and raised them lovingly to the pale, handsome countenance that was looking down upon her. Then, as the motion of the raft aided the tide of memory, she cast a shuddering look around her. • "My father 1" she exclaimed. "Where is my father?" "He is safe, I trust, dearest, but he is not with us," replied Tom, expressing, in pity for the poor girl, a hope which he was far from feeling. "See !" exclaimed Mrs. Fenton, pointing to a dark object that was being borne towards the raft by the flood. "What is that, Tom? Tell me not that it is my husband, or I shall go mad!" "Be calm, Mrs. Fenton," returned Tom, as he glanced towards the floating object which she had pointed out to him. "He may yet be alive." "Oh, father, father 1" exclaimed Lizzie, as with clasped hands she knelt upon the raft. Tom kept his eyes fixed upon what he had no doubt was the corpse of the farmer as it was rolled over and over by the flood, and was ready to drag it from the water should it come near enough; but the raft was being swept along almost as fast as the ghastly object in its wake, and several minutes elapsed before they were alongside. Then they were several yards apart. The corpse turned over as it approached, and the pale face of poor Fenton was revealed to the horrified gaze of his bereaved wife and daughter. A shriek burst from the lips of both, and Mrs. Fenton would have plunged into the water had not Tom restrained her. "I will fetch him," said he ; and, throwing off his coat and vest, he sprang, head foremost, into the flood. Lizzie's widely dilated eyes were fixed for a moment upon the spot where he disappeared, and then, as he rose to the surface, and struck out towards the drifting body of her father, she watched him with a wildly-beating heart. In a few minutes he had clutched the drowned man by the arm, and was cleaving the water with the other on his way back to the raft. Eetaining his hold of the corpse, he dragged himself on to the raft, and then drew forth all that remained of the unfortunate farmer. "Dead ! dead !" ejaculated the poor widow, as she grasped the cold hand of the corpse; and then, still holding it, she gazed so long and fixedly upon the water that had robbed her of her husband, that Tom began to fear for her reason. He wrung the water out of his trousers, put on his vest and coat, and sat down by Lizzie's side, with his right arm encircling her waist, and his shoulder supporting her drooping head. "You must bear up against this sad shook, my pet, for your good mother's sake," said he, sooth- ingly. "Look at her, Lizzie I Still that fixed look upon the cruel flood." He rose, after a few moments, and drew Lizzie towards the sorrowing widow. "You have a daughter spared to you, Mrs. Fenton," said he, "and I hope you will always look upon me as a son. Your loss is, I know, ir- reparable, but you have the consolation of know- ing that he lost his life in the path of duty." As he gently withdrew the cold hand of the corpse from her clasp, and covered the pale face, Lizzie knelt down beside her, and folded her arms lovingly round her neck. Then the poor widow's intense grief found vent in a flood of tears, and Tom, leaving the bereaved mother and daughter folded in each other's arms, turned his thoughts to the dangers and difficulties of the situation. To the right was a blue line, which grew more indistinct as the early twilight of winter fast came on, and which marked the borders of the Black Forest. Before them, and to the left, the watery expanse was bounded in the distance by a range of hills, towards which the raft was drifting. Here and there, upon the surface of the darken- ing waters, floated uprooted trees, and the car- cases of sheep and cattle, whilst numbers of birds skimmed over the flood, as if bewildered by the disaster that had driven them from theii leafy coverts. Over the wide waste of brown water the raft drifted in a meandering course,' now fast, now slow, as the inequalities of the bottom and occa- sional eddies around groups of trees affected the current. (To be continued. Commenced in Ho. 169). Mat i, 1870.J 361 BOYS OF ENGLAND. DIXON KODE FORTH, AND MET THE LEADER OF THE OTHER HAND.' THE ADVENTURES OF A BRAVE IN 8EAKCH OF HIS FATHER. BOY CHAPTER III— (continued). COULD try, if the trial were necessary." "That's well said. Well, then, you must purchase a good six-chambered revolver and a long single-barrelled rifle, also a well-tempered short dirk. You may find occasion for such weapons. You'll dine with us, here, at the hotel to-day— with me, Johnson, Dubois and Parker, three of the best fellows in the world. We'll talk over matters in the evening." The gallant Indian trader, who was a tall, well-built, exceedingly handsome man of about twenty-eight years of age, was named Dixon, and, though not the oldest, he appeared, as if by tacit consent, to be the acknowledged leader of the party. Young Benson was charmed with their society, and, despite its occasional perils, which his new friends did not attempt to conceal from him, he was delighted at the prospect of the new career that was opened out to him. It was just the life he had so often dreamed of. The party was to set out for Santa F<5 at the end of a week, and William Benson had yet his trader's costumeand other necessaries to purchase, besides the articles of merchandise with which Mr. Dixon had recommended him to supply himself. He^ound no difficulty in obtaining everything necessary. At length the day appointed for the departure of the adventurers came round. On that day, William Benson was surprised to find that his companions were to consist, not alone of the kind-hearted friends to whom he had been introduced, but also of some dozen strangers, apparently of the same stamp, and by some fifty individuals of an inferior class, con- sisting of petty traders, hunters, trappers, &c, &c, who for mutual protection during their journey had united themselves in one cavalcade. All were mounted on mustangs, the small, beau- tifully formed, and long-enduring, though some- time viciously-inclined native horses. Besides these mustangs, every man of the party had his mule to carry his baggage, while many of the more wealthy traders had three or four—some, half a dozen mules. Young Benson, himself, had been obliged to purchase three mules to carry his wares, while Mr. Dixon's beasts of burden numbered the full half dozen. "I¡did not anticipate this," Benson observed to his friend Dixon. "No, my dear boy !" returned the trader. "By Jove, if we were to undertake our journey alone, I would not give a quarter of a dollar for the whole of our merchandise, or our lives. Why, the Indians would possess themselves of our bag- gage and ornament their leggings with our scalps before we had ended our second day's journey." "How long do you suppose we shall be on our journey to Santa Fó?" "That depends. May be three weeks. May be five, or more. I have accomplished the journey in ten days. But, I say, don't you intend to accompany us?" "Certainly I do." "Then why are you not dressed'and accoutred for the journey 1 We shall start in the course of an hour. You have no time to lose." "I was wondering to see you arrayed as you are, and was going to ask you the reason why you had changed your costume." "Surely you didn't expect that we were going to 6ct forth on our journey into the wilderness clad in broadcloth, and unarmed? Come, my boy, quick, and don your hunting shirt; and, harkye, don't encumber yourself with useless baggage. Sou may, if you choose, carry with you one full suit of citizen's clothing. All be- sides will be useless incumbrance." Mr. Dixon and his friends appeared in hunting- shirts of yellow, brown, or green dressed deer- skin, shaped much the same as a soldier's modern tunic, save that they were somewhat longer in the skirts. Over their shirts they wore capes of the same material, fringed with tag ends, cut from the leather itself. Their lower limbs were encased in heavy riding-boots, with immense silver or brass spurs attached. All wore broad-brimmed Spanish hats, and round their waists, in a broad, leathern belt, were stuck their revolvers and knives. The belts, in fact, fairly bristled with arms, and in each man's saddle, his big, thick, blue Mackinaw blanket, tightly rolled up into the form of a knapsack, was carried, in case it should be needed to protect him from a storm of rain, or from the sudden chills of the night air. In half an hour William Benson made his ap- pearance, attired in a similar costume, and in another half hour he was mounted on his mus- tang beside his friend Dixon; a Creole servant, whom, at Dixon's advice, he had engaged at St. Louis, following, in charge of his mules and baggage. CHAPTER IV. A SUDDEN ALARM—A PERILOUS EXPEDITION. A fortnight passed away, during which period nothing of importance occurred. One day's events were very similar to those of another; yet, in the eyes of our hero, everything wore the charm of novelty. Every night the cavalcade came to a halt, if possible, near a grove of trees, and in the vicinity of water. Frequently, however, not a tree was to be seen for twenty-four hours consecutively. By general consent, the leadership was accorded to Mr. Dixon, who accepted it, although it was by no means an enviable position, involving, as it did, a continuous watchfulness and heavy responsibility. Small troops of mounted Indians had occa- 362 [Mat l, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. sionally appeared in sight in the distance, as if they were reconnoitering the travellers ; but they did not venture to draw near to them. On the eighteenth day of the journey, when the cavalcade had quitted the green prairie, and reached the wide expanse of sandy desert, a cloud of dust was seen ahead shortly after the party had started in the morning. "Indians 1" cried one of the hunters. "We arc in the cursed Pawnee country, and we must look out for our scalps if we do not keep to- gether. No stragglin' eout artcr antelope to-day, boys." "As ef antelope 'ud be eout ycre in the desert,*' sneered another. "Them arn't Inj ins; they're bufalers," said a third. t( Bufalers 1" sneered the hunter who had just spoken. "As cf bufalers 'ud come eout inter the desort any more'n antelope 1" 4< Injins or bufalers, they're comin' this way, right towards us," shouted half-a-dozen voices together. Dixon and two or three of his comrades had been observing the advancing cloud through their glasses, and Dixon now spoke— '* They are neither Indians nor buffaloes, my lads," he said, "but a small party of mounted and armed Creoles. The cloud of dust they raise looms large in the morning mißt î but there are not more than a dozen of them. Halt t We'll wait till they come up to us." In a quarter of an hour it became manifest that Dixon had spoken correctly. The approaching party consisted of a band of ten men, all heavily armed, as was apparent from the glancing of the sun's rays upon the barrels of their rHlea and pistols, and upon the steel scabbards of their swords. "What cim it mean ?" one inquired of another, to no purpose. "We shall soon see," said an old hunter. "'Shouldn't wonder," he added, "ef the Injins bean't eout up in the Río Nortó. Howsomever, there goes Captin g Dixon eout to meet the leader o' the band. We'll soon know all 'beout it. ncow." As the hunter said, Dixon had ridden forth to meet the leader of the band, who now brought his men to a halt, and advanced alone to meet the trader-captain. The two held a short but apparently exciting conversation together. Then they separated; the band again rode forward towards St, Louis, and Mr. Dixon returned to his party. "Myfriends," he said, as he drew near, "I have bad news to tell you. The Pawnee Indians have united with the Apaches, and it is said also with the Sioux and Blackfoots. The band that has just ridden past us is a party of Spanish Creoles bound to St. Louis to beg assistance. The leader assures me that there arc at least two thousand Indians concealed in the rocky passes that bound the regular road to the llio Norté. Of course it would be madness for us to attempt to push through them; we should be plundered and scalped to a man. I therefore propose that we separate our cavalcade into three or four parties, and that each party takes and pays a hunter as a guide. If we do meet with Indians in the mountains, they will proba- bly be in small detatched parties, who will be no match for us, even when divided." Having thus spoken, Dixon rode up to his own special friends, who had dismounted from their mustangs, and were in earnest confabula- tion together. He exchanged a few words with them, and then approached William Benson, who was standing by the side of his mustang, watching the proceedings with curiosity. "Well, Mr. Benson," said he, "I am sorry to say that you are likely soon to bo initiated into one of the ugliest of the various vicissitudes of a prairie-trader's career—a skirmish with the wily, savage rcdinen of the wilderness." "You surely do not menu that," said Benson. "I do, indeed, my lad,'' replied Dixon. "But time presses ; my object in speaking to you now is to give you some fresh advice under these new circumstances." "I shall bo glad to have it ; you have been a good friend to me," said Benson, shaking Dixon by the hand. "Now, my boy, I recommend you to join my division. I shall not be with them, on their way through the western pass ; but I can trust to my chief muleteer, Julian, who is a well tried and courageous fellow. The three or four divisions will, please Heaven, rejoin each other in the course of ten days, or a fortnight, in the great plain of Reverdé." "Of course I shall take your advice," replied young Benson ; "but, Mr. Dixon, will you permit me to ask you a question?" "Certainly, my boy." "Why do you and your chosen friends leave the cüvalcade at this crisis?" Dixon did not reply for some moments. At length, however, he made a step forward, and grasped the hand of the young lad convulsively. "Benson," he said, his voice trembling, "I am apt to take sudden * friendships and enmities. I form my opinion of man or woman at first sight, and very rarely have I found myself mistaken \n my estimation. From the first moment I saw you I conceived a strong friendship for you." "Why Heed we part ?" inquired young Benson, actuated by one of his sudden impulses. "You do not go alone. Your purpose, therefore, can be no secret. You take friends with you. Let me also be one of these friends" "My dear boy, you know nof; what you ask," replied Dixon. "I go to encounter extreme peril—perhaps to face death." "And I, cannot I face peril? Have I ever shown myself a coward ?" cried the young lad. "My dear boy, you are too young to needlessly expose yourself to danger, even for the sake of a friend. Remember that you are entrusted with the property of another person. You must not betray the trust reposed in you. Such a betrayal might ruin all your future prospects." "You, and your friends, do they risk no loss?" "We can trust to Julian. We have trust- worthy agents at Santa Fe*. Those connected with us will suffer no loss of property—at all events through us, even should our lives pay the forfeit of our rashness. Good bye, my dear boy, till we meet again." "Good bye I No, no, Dixon, no. I will not say good bye here, and thus. If your Julian be so trustworthy, then I can trust him, as well as you and your friends. Your chosen friends go with you. I am one of these. I beg you to permit me to accompany you? Nay, I will, unless you positively forbid me, and then I shall feel that you do not trust me." "My boy, you don't know whither—you don't know why I go: you know not the danger" said Dixon. "I care not," answered the brave lad, whose dauntless spirit was fully aroused. Dixon gazed with his glistening eyes, and again pressing bis hand, said— "My boy, you may accompany if you choose. Before an hour has passed away you shall learn whither and why I go. When I have told you the story, you may return if you please." "I go with you," was the brave boy's senten- tious reply. At this moment the leading men of the cavalcade came towards their captain, and told him that they perfectly coincided with him in | opinion. "It only remains, captain," said the spokes- man, "for you to decide as to the number of divisions, and the course which each shall pur- sue. We leave this entirely to your judgment, agreeing that we shall again unite at the plain of Reverdé." Dixon divided the caravan into four nearly equal divisions, and gave to each one the route it should take through the mountain passes. There were a score of hunters and trappers, each one of whom was perfectly capable of acting as a guide through any one of the passes of the Mimbró Mountains, and the captain was perfectly satisfied that any one of the four divisions would be strong enough to intimidate the scattered bands of Indians that might be hiding in the mountain passes. His object, however, was not to avoid the Indians, unless, contrary to expectation, any one of the divisions should discover a party of red- skins too numerous for them to attack with safety. The decision made, the divisions started, and Dixon, accompanied by William Benson, and the other of that party, consisting of Dubois, Parker and Johnson, the traders to whom ho had been introduced on the first occasion of his meeting with Arthur Dixon, took a southerly direction, and rode forward for some time in silence, all occasionally using their spy glasses, and carefully sweeping the horizon for the faintest sign of the presence of Indians in the distance. At length Dixon thus addressed his youthful companion— "You must know, my dear Benson, that some two years after I quitted college, and commenced my present career, I fell desperately in love with one of the fairest and dearest girls that New England can boast of. "You must know, that though I am a true- born Yankee, from the New England States, my father was an Englishman—was, I say," he added sadly, " I perhaps might say, for I know not whether he is living or dead. "He went to England shortly after ray mother's death, which happened when I was only seven years of age, leaving me at school under the charge of an uncle. I "During two years after he went to England he wrote to me and my uncle regularly. Then he suddenly ceased to write, and I have never : heard any authentic intelligence of him since. There was a report that he had married again in England, and that, a few months after his marriage, he embarked for New York, leaving his wife behind him. "It was also said by persons who had known him well, by sight, that he had landed in New York, and had been seen there repeatedly, and that he had spoken to one individual and told him that he was about to make a journey into Mexico, to look after some mining property that he possessed there, previous to his returning home to New England. "If this were true, it is very strange that he never wrote to my uncle or me. However, it was partially in consequence of this report that I conceived the idea of taking to my present adventurous life. For several years I was pos- sessed with a strange desire to search after my father, and learn, at least, what had become of him, if I could not actually find him. But I have given up all hope of finding him now. tl Two years after I had commenced my career as a prairie trader I received a letter at St. Louis from my uncle, who wrote that he was failing fast, and wished me instantly to set out for Hartford, Connecticut, if I wished to see him alive. I started immediately, but I reached home too late. My poor uncle was dead ere I arrived; but he had bequeathed me the whole of his property, on the sole condition that I should assume his surname, which of course I did. My father's name was Stapleton, and that is my true name now, for I took no legal measures to have it changed. "I remained some months at Hartford, col- lecting together my late uncle's property, mixing in the best society, and one evening I went to a ball, where I met Mary Jefferson. She was a most lovely girl, about my own age, and I fell madly in love with her. We met afterwards, and I found her as amiable and intelligent as she was beautiful. And I soon found that my love whs returned. '* I spoke to her father. The old gentleman was willing to accept me as his son-in-law. He made but one condition, namely, that we should not be married until his daughter had com- pleted her twentieth year. Although she lacked but three months of this age, I was anxious that the marriage should take place imme- diately, having engaged at the end of that period to set forth on another trading expedi- tion. But on this point the old gentleman re- mained obdurate. "Still my disappointment was somewhat lessened when I learnt from him that, he was about to proceed forthwith to Santa Fé, and that his daughter was going with him, "I wished to travel with them, but the old gentleman would not consent, but it was arranged that I should meet them at Santa Fe" as soon as possible after the three months had expired, and that Mary and I should be married at the prairie city. Mat 1,1870.3 363 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "Ah roe! How true is the proverb—* there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip.' "They never reached Santa Fé. "Mr. Jefferson had an estate at El Paso, whither we are now journeying. The caravan to which he had attached himself was to pass through El Paso, and he determined to stop and remain there for a week to look after his estate. i( At this period the Indians had banded them- selves together to make one of their bloody forays. They attacked the settlement of El Paso, and .murdered and scalped all the male white men, and carried away the females—my own sweet Mary among the rest—into a captivity that is often a thousand times worse than death! "I was for a time maddened—stupefied. For several weeks I know not what I did. At length, however, I recovered, and took measures to dis- cover whither my poor Mary had been taken. "From that sad period I never heard anything of her until to-day. I was told that the chief of the Alpachés, with a large number of his followers, was at El Paso; that they had again perpetrated horrible atrocities at that devoted place, and that some of the inferior chiefs had white females with them, whom they were offer- ing for ransom; that they had even sent emis- saries to Santa Fe* for that purpose, and were awaiting their return at El Paso. "The description of one of the females as re- portedbyaprisonerwho escaped from the Indians' hands, and who had seen Mary in the pride of her innocence and beauty, exactly resembles her, though she is said to be worn down with sorrow and suffering. "A band of men, consisting chiefly of Ame- rican hunters, is reported to be advancing to- wards El Paso, by the southern route. It is that band that I and my friends here go to meet and to join. We expect to find them encamped in a wood, distant about three leagues from this, and one league from the town of El Paso. They will remain in the wood until nightfall, and will make the attack under cover of the darkness. "I have resolved to make one of the attacking party, and my friends who, urged in some mea- sure by the same feelings, insisted upon accom- panying me. "Now, my dear Benson, you know the perils you may have to encounter. You have no especial interest in the matter. You may still change your mind, and I shall think none the worse of you. We are still but a few miles distant from the caravan. By riding fast you may overtake it before it reaches the mountains, and I hope to clasp your hand again, within a fortnight from this, on the plains of Keverdé." "I go with you," replied the brave lad. Arthur Dixon grasped his hand warmly. CHAPTER VI. THE FIGHT WITH THE INDIANS— OTJE HERO A CAPTIVE. The entire party now rode forward in silence, keeping, however, a sharp look out; for they had now quitted the sandy desert, and entered a grassy, well wooded and well watered country, in which it would have been easy for parties of Indians to conceal themselves, and, in accord- ance with their favourite style of warfare, dash out suddenly upon their unsuspecting victims. But, though they saw abundant evidence that the ground had been lately passed over by a multitude of horsemen, they saw not a living creature, save now and then, when a deer or an antelope sprang forth from its leafy covert, and sped across their path—until, at length, after having ridden at a moderate pace for three hours, they imagined themselves to be near the spot where the party they expected to meet with, lay concealed. It was now necessary to proceed with the utmost caution, lest they themselves might be taken for Indi ans, and perhaps fired upon before the mistake was discovered. At length, however, they perceived ahuman form, standing on the summit of a low, steep bluff, which rose on the opposite bank of the river Del Norté, along which their path lay. It was evident that they were seen before they had got near enough to make out whether the figure was that of lan Indian or a white man, for the sentinel suddenly disappeared, and presently appeared again, accompanied by half-a-dozen others, all of whom carried rifles, and who looked earnestly at the approaching party and peered cautiously around them. By this time they had discovered that the figures were those of white men, and they had no doubt that they were a portion of the ambushed party that they had come to join. The river was very narrow and shallow at this spot, still they were too distant yet to speak, and they held aloft a white flag, which they had brought with them for the purpose, at the end of one of their rifles, in token of amity. The signal was answered, and, putting their horses to a gallop, they soon reached the bank of the river, directly opposite to the bluff. Half-a-dozen men—American hunters and Creoles—rode to the water's edge, and they soon had the satisfaction to learn that this was the party they sought ; that a body of three hundred armed men were concealed in the wood near by; and that the concealed party were only waiting for nightfall to ride forward to El Paso, and attack the Indians under cover of the darkness. "So, ye air come to jine us, eh?" shouted an old American hunter. "Wal, the more the merrier. Lor sakes! Be that Capting Dixon?" "Ay, ay, old Peter," answered Dixon, re- cognizing the hunter. "It is I, myself. Who'd have thought to see you here? How many Americans are there in your party, Peter?" *' 'Beout fifty, more'n less, Capting. Enow to give backbone to the party, I reckon. T'others is yaller chaps; Spanishers, an' Creoles, and sich like. Still, fellars as'll fight the Ingins like sleuth hounds, ef they're supported." "That's well. Now, how are we to cross the river to join you?" "Well, that won't give ye much trouble, Capting. The stream's fordable yere abeouts, an' ye've only to spur yer beasts into the water, and ride over, I guess. Ye'll find lots o' friends to welcome ye." The hunter spoke the truth. The water hardly rose to the horses' haunches, and the little party soon stood high and dry on the opposite shore, and were conducted into the wood, where they found many acquaintances to welcome them. All, Americans and Mexicans, were alike eager to commence the attack. The brutal atrocities of the Indians had at length aroused even the naturally indolent Creoles from their torpor, and bitter were the execrations heaped upon them, and many the oaths registered that no quarter should be given, under any circum- stances. "Still," interposed Dixon, who had been at once acknowledged as one of the leaders of the party, "it would be as well, before we com- mence the attack, to ascertain whether it be not possible to treat for the ransom of the white women they are said to have with them. Other- wise, rather than permit us to take them away by force, they may wantonly massacre them in cold blood." After some demur, it was agreed that after having made a demonstration of the strength of their party, they should demand a parley with the chiefs, and endeavour, before they resorted to strife, to obtain possession of the captives. "And cf they give 'cm up, let the 'tarnal skunks go free!" exclaimed one of the hunters sullenly. "So far as I am concerned, if I make a promise, I shall keep it, I cannot hold myself responsible for otJiers" replied Dixon, with a sophistry that he would have been the first to condemn, had the question related to any others than Indians. Nightfall at length arrived, and the party sallied forth from their ambush, and proceeded slowly and cautiously towards El Paso. Dixon and his friends led the van, William Benson riding, as usual, by the side of Dixon himself. But few words were interchanged. The thoughts of all were too busy—they were too anxious for conversation. They were in a deep valley, bounded to the southward by lofty mountains, with peaks of every variety of form towering one above another. Huge roeks hung over, and seemed only half to rest upon fearful precipices. Vast bounders looked as if the touch of a finger would suffice to topple them over into the valley beneath. Grim chasms opened into dark defiles—silent, solemn, and awful. At length there appeared, looming large through the darkness, the outlines of houses, a mile or more distant. They stood far apart from each other, and in front of them rose what looked like a terraced wall. All eyes were directed towards the spot with eager gaze. A sigh of relief, mingled with a choking sen- sation of indefinable dread, burst from the lips of many of the party; for this was the town of El Paso, and the apparently terraced wall was the old fort, which might have been made so formidable that the Indians could never have captured the town, and so perpetrated the fright- ful atrocities within its walls, but for the cri- minal apathy and indolence of its inhabitants. A hurried council was held. Forgetting their previous compact, many now, desirous only of vengeance, blood, and gold, would have rushed into the. town, regardless of the chief object of the expedition, and taken the victorious Indians by surprise, ere they could have time for defence, or to effect their escape. 1С was only with great difficulty that the leaders restrained them. Two Indian sentinels were seized ere they could raise an alarm. One of these was held as hostage, while the other was sent into the town, after he had been shown the strength of the party, to demand, upon pain of the execution of the captive sen- tinel, an interview between six of the principal chiefs, and six of the leaders of the band—all unarmed—to treat for the liberation of the cap- tive females, whosoever they might be. This interview was agreed to. An old ruined mill, outside the town, was appointed for the meeting. But though the Indians had promised to appear without arms, the whites knew full well that they would bring arms concealed upon their persons, and they determined to imitate them. "Treachery may be intended," said Dixon to the leader whom he left in charge of the main body of the party. "At the first report of a pistol, wait for nothing, rush in, and endeavour to carry the town by assault." The three friends who had accompanied Dixon from the caravan, were to be of the party who were to meet the Indians. Dixon himself made four. A young Spaniard offered himself as the fifth. There still lacked one to make up the number. "Let me accompany you," said William Benson to his friend. "It will be hazardous," replied Dixon; "but you shall form one of the party if you will." "I wish to do so," was the reply. "Take your revolver concealed beneath your hunting tunic," said Dixon. "See, too, that all the chambers are charged. There is nothing the savages dread so much. They laugh at a single barrelled pistol, but they attach some mysterious influence to a revolver." "I have it here, carefully charged," replied the young lad, "and I have my bowie-knife also." "That is well. Pray Heaven there be no occasion to uso such weapons, at least until the conference is over. If the Indians attack us, keep by my side, if possible. Fire off every barrel, and take care that each bullet lays low its man. Having done this, fall back on the main body as soon as you can. Let me feel your pulse 1" The young lad offered his wrist, and Dixon lightly pressed his fore finger upon the pulse. « Look mo in the face," he added. "Look me full in the eyes." The boy did as he was desired. He gazed at his friend without a symptom of quailiDg. "It is well, my dear boy," said Dixon, after a few moments. "Your pulse beats firmly and regularly. We shall then make short work with the redskins, were they twice their number, nnd let them be as treacherous as they may. Keep close to me as long flls you can. I have i little trust in this meeting." I (To te continued, Сотшедсей in. Ifo 179.) 364 Mat 1,1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. THE KING OF THE SCHOOLS OR, WHO WILL WIN? By the Author of "Chevy Chase," "Stbongbow," &c., &c CHAPTER XXV.—(continued.) FTER a brief interval devoted to the demolition of biscuits, cheese and ale, the coachman announced that time was up, and our friends once more clambered to the box. The Earl of Pembridge, who had heard the foregoing dis- cussion, without taking part in it, was of the same opinion as Frank. He thought it just pos- sible that Baynes might be in a very desperate state of mind, and thinking of making another attack on Egerton. So to guard against mischief as much as possible, he changed seats with Frank, by which piece of strategy the Klis'ii <>v ruv, Nniom. was placed between two other boys, against whom liaynes could have no particular enmity. Then off they started again. After proceeding about a mile, they again caught sight of the doubtful person in front of them. At the same time Freddy called attention to a gentleman shooting in the fields on the right hand side of the road. The youth in front of them climbed up on the bank to look at the sportsman, and seemed not to hear the wheels of the coach. Presently the gentle- man's dog came to a dead point, and the next moment a partridge rose, flying not many feet above the ground, almost directly in a line for the youth on the bank. Baynes—for he it was as they could all see— jumped back into the road to avoid the shots form the sportsman's gun. "Hi! Out of the way !" shouted the coachman, pulling hard at his horses. Too late! The near leader knocked him down, and, before the coach could be stopped, the wheel had passed over his right thigh and shoulder. All the fun of the day was spoiled at once. The boys jumped down, and clustered round their late schoolfellow, who lay insensible on the hard road. Only a slight movement of the lips told them that Baynes still lived. "We can't leave him here," said Frank Egerton; "he must be taken back to the 'Druid's Head.'" « But how?" asked Freddy. "You had better let him remain a few minutes," said the gentleman, whose gun had, to a certain extent, been the cause of the mischief. "I will send some of my labourers from the next field with a hurdle on which he may be carried back to the inn." He was as good as his word, and in a few minutes the bad boy of my tale was being borne along on a rude couch formed of great coats and wrappers spread on the hurdle. Frank Egerton returned with him to the "Druid's Head." The others went on their way. Two hours afterwards the doctor, who had been called from Ballsbury, sent down word that Mr. Egerton was wanted in the sick-room, a summons which he readily obeyed. Consciousness had returned to the poor, crushed form. The surgeon had seen that the sufferer's hours were numbered, and had told him so. The terrible fear of death had at first convulsed him with horror, but after a few kind, Christian words from the doctor, Baynes evinced a desire to make restitution as far as possible. As soon as Frank was in the room, his former schoolfellow commenced a confession, in which he recapitulated the many dastardly and dis- honest acts he had been guilty of. "But the worst remains to be told," he gasped, sitting up feebly. "Your inheritance was wrested from you by fraud, Egerton; those mortgage deeds were forged! That's why your lawyer never heard of tliem till your father's death." "Forged! Great Heaven! By whom?" "May the powers above forgive him. My father, instigated by me, in revenge for the well- deserved thrashing you gave me. A man named Compton, living in Drury Lane, helped to do it. You must catch him and extort—a confession. But, as I have told you this, be merciful—to my father. Forgive me. It was a race for superi- ority—you won—because—you were—brave and honest." "I forgive you, as I hope to be forgiven!" exclaimed Frank, fervently. "He has not heard you ; he is dead !" observed the doctor. * . * * * * A day afterwards Frank, with Mr. Throck- morton, the family solicitor, and a couple of shrewd detectives, encountered Compton in the neighbourhood of Drury Lane. Hearing that his little game was up, the man volunteered every information he could give, and produced some documents which left no doubt of the elder Baynes's guilt. The next thing was to seek that gentleman, who was found at the "Druid's Head," superin- tending his son's funeral. The police did not interfere till that was over, when they informed Mr. Baynes the object of their visit. At first he bullied and swore, but soon found that would not do; the evidence against him was too strong. Then he was taken into a private room with Mr. Throckmorton and Frank Egerton. "Well," said he, "what do you mean to do? Prosecute, or make an arrangement?" "I hardly think we should be justified in com- ing to any arrangement with such a scoundrel," replied Throckmorton. However, after some consultation, it was arranged that, on consideration of his giving up the whole of the Egerton property, and paying down the sum of a thousand pounds, he should be allowed to go, giving his word to leave Eng- land at once. Mr. Throckmorton was prepared with all the necessary documents, and the two constables were called in to witness the signatures. Mr. Baynes was then allowed to depart, and we believe he left the country. At all events he was no more heard of. Frank then went home to see his darling mother, for so busy had he been that he had not been able to call upon her. She forgave him when she heard how he had employed his time, and that he had regained all his father's estates. She clasped him in her arms, and kissed her own dear boy over and over again. ***** It is now necessary to skip over a space of time. Frank went back to Lexicon College for another half year; but no one dared dispute his position as King of the School. Tlu'n he graduated at Oxford, along with his friends the Earl of Pem- bridge and Fitzgerald, the latter youth being deeply in love with Lady Florence Walworth, the young peer's sister. All three left the uni- versity in triumph, with the proud privilege of writing B.A. after their names; and then Frank began seriously to think of mairying, while the Earl of Pem- bridge was all impa- tience to lead Lizzie Conway to the altar. The two girls, it should be understood, had paid more than one visit to Mrs. Egerton, and that lady had quite overcome her prejudices against the milliner. Amongst those invited was Professor Moeritz, who one day was ob- served to be very in- tently studying a scrap of paper. Suddenly a hand was passed over his shoulder, and it was snatched from him—by Mr. Con- way! "That writing !" said Professor, where did you Herr he. "Say, get it?" "On the Kiinigsthul by Heideisberg. I linom it was written by Laura Wertheim, and was, I believe, given by her to an Englishman named Fairfax Egerton. I loved Laura." "So did I; and she afterwards became my wife. For / am Fairfax Egerton, uncle to this gallant young man who is about to wed my daughter." "You are not the Englishman with whom I fought!" «Am I not? See!" Mr. Conway, alias Egerton, tore off a huge false beard and whiskers, displaying features very like those of our hero, who immediately asked— "But, why have you so long concealed yourself from us, dear uncle?" "Because I dreaded lest my pure-hearted children should hear of the vices and follies I was guilty of in my youth, and despise me. But it matters not now; you will love Kate none the less for finding that she is your cousin. No, rather the more." Three days afterwards three weddings took place; Kate Conway became Mrs. Frank Egerton, Lizzie found herself Countess of Pembridge, while Lady Florence Walworth disgusted several titled old tabbies by wedding Fitzgerald, a mere commoner. Happiness was the lot of each, and happiness surely they deserved, none more so than The King of the School. Mât l, 1870.J 365 BOYS OF ENGLAND. BUFFALO BILL, THE KING OF THE BORDER MEN. CHAPTER XLVIII. 30UNTING on the beet horses, for there were plenty to pick among now, Ben McCullough and the remnant of his party, on breaking through the disordered ranks of the charging soldiers, sped away at the swiftest rate, never drawing rein until they reached the house of Nat Perkins. Day had dawned before they got there, and the old man was at the door, surrounded by his family, when the party dashed up. "Hallo ! here you are," he shouted. « That's the way to ride—lickity-rip! lickity-rip! Wipe 'em all out, eh? Sal, did you take the hair of he that killed yer loveyer?" "Hold yer gab, you old carbuncle !" cried the girl courage. You've got something to fight for, and so have I." "I'd like to know what. Tou haven't had a sweetheart wiped out !" cried Sallie. "Never mind, if I haven't. There is one that I do love going in, and I'll fight by his side all through, and if he falls avenge him." Her dark eyes were fixed on McCullough as she said this, and a quick, bright glance from him made her face flush till it was fairly radiant. "We must have luck when the women feel this way," he murmured. Then, glancing his eye along the slender line of his followers to see if they were all right in arms and equipment, he gave his order in a sharp, quick tone— "By twos, right turn, and follow me." There was no bugle call, but his men knew their duty, and though he dashed away at a gallop every man in his place followed at the same pace. "He's gone, and my best horses with him," sighed Nat Perkins, as the column vanished from sight. "And Sal rode off the best one I had. bitterly. "Mother, yon and the gal get us something to eat quicker than ever you did before in your lives.1 Wild cats alive, if I lost that horse for good it would Dad, roll out a keg of whisky; these folks need it more now than ever they did before." "What's the matter? You haven't been whipped back?" gasped the old man. "We just have ; and the sooner yon raise fresh horses for us in the neigh- bourhood, the better it will be for you," said McCullough, "for if the soldiers follow us up and find us here, your houses and barns will be apt to go in smoke and blaze." "Wild cate alive! General McCullough whipped!" And the old Missouri man looked ghastly in hie astonishment. "Come, dad, there's no use in making faces. Hurry up, hurry up, or I'll burn the whole caboodle out myself." "Wild cats alive ! the gal has gone mad !" exclaimed the old man. "You'll think so, old catamount, if you stand there much longer, "for I'll pitch into you, sure as I live!" "Well, well, I'll go get the red-eye. But, I say, did any of you see my nigger, Ben, and my six-mule team?" "Yes, I sent a ball into Ben's head, for I don't like a nigger namesake," said McCullough, with a laugh. There were lively times for the next two hours about that ranche. Food was cooked, eaten, and put in haversacks, and messengers sent to the neighbours for fresh horses. At the end of two hours the ranger was ready. And now came the strangest episode of all. Sallie Perkins, dressed completely in a suit belonging to her absent brother Gus, made her appearance on as good a horse as could be found in the whole cavalcade. In the belt which fastened the fringed hunting-coat to her waist, a pair of revolvers and a large bowie- knive rested, while in her hand she carried a useful as well as a dan- gerous weapon in guerrilla hands, a fine, double-barrelled shot-gun, at once light yet serviceable. Her hair, long, curling, and red as a fire-blaze seen in the darkness of night, hung down over her graceful shoulders. That alone, with her fair, smooth face, revealed her sex. Her features were rather masculine, her eye bold and fierce, her voice strong and full. "Where are you going, Sal?" asked her father, as he saw his daughter thus accoutred and mounted. "I'm going to have revenge for the death of Dave Tutt !" she cried. "I liked him as well as I ever liked any man that travelled. If he had lived, we would have been harnessed some time. I'm about as good as a widow now that he is gone, and I don't care to live any longer than to meet Wild Bill in a fair square light. It will be him or me then, and I don't think it'll be me! So, good-bye, dad; keep your hair on as long as you can, and if you have to lose it, be gritty while it is going." "Wild cats alive! but this beat» me," muttered the old man. "Gus'U swear when he finds his new trousers and Sunday coat gone." "Let me hear him swear, and I'll knock his two eyes into one ; that is, if he swears about me." "Go it," cried Ruby Blazes. "I like your ГОВ.ТКЛ1Т OK JOE BEVINS. well near break my heart. I hope I'll not lose him, but that girl is fearful reckless." He now turned away with a sigh, not for the daughter whom he might never more see, but the stock that was gone, and could be but poorly re- placed by the used-up animals left behind. "If them Yanks do come, they mustn't know Ben McCullough has been here and got fed, or we'll not have a hair left," he said, warningly, to the family and servants, who stood grouped around. "We must be Union up to the handle in our talk, or they'll go through us liekity-rip, like water through a sieve. This war is going to be ruination to honest folks like me." And the old man sighed again. CHAPTER XLIX. Already the armies of the West were in motion. There was not much hilarity in the cottage home of Buffalo Bill when the news reached there that the scouts would depart with the rising of another sun. Silently, though sadly, each had something to do to help fit out those who were to leave. Thus at the supper-table there were gathered the mother, her son and twin daughters. "Lou " La Villiere was there also with her good father, and Kitty Muldoon with no eyes for anybody but brave little Joe, was nestled away as near to him as she eould get. Wild Bill once more in the glory of a full buck- skin suit—Frank Stark, genteel and quiet, as modest as he was brave—it was a circle to admire and be proud of. After supper, when Kitty, with volunteer help, had cleared the table away, the parties paired off, and a general quiet conversation opened. Lou and our hero had their talk in one corner, Frank Stark and Lfflie in another, while good, sweet little Lottie tried to make Wild Bill laugh at the dream which had taken such serious root in his mind. Kitty was more than usually silent, though Joe was trying to be just as funny as he could, to hide the real sadness which filled his heart. The iron tongue of time spoke out the hour of midnight in syllables of twelve. This was a signal that could not be disregarded, for men who must mount early and ride all the day, and for many days to come, needed rest. "We may as well all say good-bye to-night," said Bill. "For before the light of day is spread out for the eyes of those who stay, we who are to travel will be on our route. For my part, I'm not much on the good bye— I it is a choking sort of word and I don't like it. All I can say is—we are going where we are needed, and when there is no more need for us at the front, we'll, if the good Father above permits it, be back here to make home look cheerful again. So don't spill any water out of your eyes, but give us cheery looks to I make our hearts strong, and hope and pray that we'll all be men, do our duty while we are away, and come back eafe to say so!" "Bravo! A member of Congress could not have made a better speech !'' cried Mr. La Valliere. "I don't know, sir, why you should link me with a member of Congress," said Bill, laughing. "I have never done anything very bad to deserve it. As to speeches—I'm rough, I know, but Lou will give me le6sons by-and-bye, and then ГЦ improve." The banker now arose to leave, and Bill whispered a word or two to the darling of his heart, which checked the tears that rose in her beautiful eyes—for hope, brave hope, is power- ful to check the flood of grief when it is brought home to the heart. The parting words were soon spoken, and with the solemn matronly blessing of that good mother floating like a wave of comfort after them, the young men filed away to take their accustomed rest before being called to the saddle. It was a touching scene—one wor- thy of an artist's pencil rather than the too tame pen-painting with which I lay it before the reader's eyes. CHAPTER L. It may interest the female portion of the readers hereof (though they are not expected to have a great deal of curiosity in such matters), if I say that before parting be- trothal vows had been exchanged between at least three couples in whom we are interested in this story. I will not insult the reader by naming them, for she surely knows long before this who is heart- mated in the party; and I don't believe in the linking of hands where the heart does not throb assent. The sun just began to gild the spires and domes of St. Louis, when Bill and his scouts turned at the "Five Mile House" to give a parting look to the town. "Forward, at a trot, boys! And now we're off! There is nothing like work to keep the sad thoughts out of our minds and drive the blues away." "Except whisky!" said Wild Bill, with a forced laugh. "There's where you're a mile outside the mark," said Buffalo Bill, seriously. "I'm not much on a temperance lecturer—I wish I was; but you know, and you all know, that there is more fight, more headache—aye, and more heartache in one rum- bottle than there is in all the water that ever sparkled in God's bright sunlight. And I, for the 366 Г MAY 1,187. Should I catch hold of hie 3,4,2, Whatever would the fellow do? Perhaps he'd try, make a strive To lay me on my 1, 3,5; But rather than I should offend I'll bring this riddle to an end. Then tell mo truly, if you can, This something helps to strengthen man. Alexander, park. hi. A celebrated actor and distinguished wit; a noted city of Asia Minor ; where Alexander the Great died; a celebrated historical painter; a famous mountain near Troy; the builder of the Temple ot Diana; one of the chief towns in Persia; a king of Ithica ; an Italian writer born at Verona. Tho initials will give the name of a celebrated lloman famed for his integrity. Joseph H. Hammond. IV. I am a word of nine letters. My 3,4, 9 is a spirit; my 6,7, 8 is a malt liquor; my 9, 4, 7, 2 is an animal ; my 6, 2, 6 is a body of water ; my l, c, 9 Is a prepared fruit ; and my whole is a sacred city. J. W. W. v. I consist of 15 letters. My 8,3,9,2,4 is a preventative of railway accidents; my 10, G, 1 is for ornament and protection; my 8, 2,13, Iba fermenting aTticic: my H, 12, 7,7, 2, 10 is a portion of dress; my 8,16,2,1 is a balance: my 6, 6,7, 7,12,0 is a kind of tree; my 11, 6, 3, 0 both destroys and comforts; and my whole is a character in a tale in the Boys op Eng- land. b. e. vi. The wife of Hercules ; the first of the Greeks who taught philosophy in a public school; a town in the South of Italy; a writer of amatory lyrics; a king of Ithica; an eminent elegiac poet; the island in which he was born; a Bavarian prince; the goddess of hunting ¡ tho mother of Alexander tho Great; tho place were Pittacus was born; a celebrated comic poet of Greece; the son of Belns; the mountains to the east of Russia ; a queen of Babylon. The initials will give the name of a Persian king. Joseph h. hammond. VII. My first Í3 beheld both at morning and night, My second less often, if so, quite a sight; My third o'er the Thames every day may be seen, And my whole was first opened bv England's queen. . W. B. Till. I am composed of 3 words, or 16 letters. My 4, 9,10 is a measure; my 14, 2,13 is to pull; my 1, 16,12 is a Spanish title; my 3, 8, 13 is a small barrel or cask; my 16, 4,7 is the reverse of old; my G, 11, 1G is a fish's membrane; my 14, 6, 7 is to draw forward; and my whole is the name of a great military hero. J. G. HEMBROW. IX. My first is in welfare, but not in good; My second is in iron, but not in wood; My third is in battle, but not in strife; My fourth is in death, but not in life; My fifth is in frosty, but not in ice; My sixth is in mousetraps, but not in mice; My seventh is in woman, but not in witch; My eighth is in plenty, but not rich; My whole is a tale, capitally written, Which is found in the Young Men of Great Britain. Wm, F. Trindku. X My first is In cat, but not in dog; My second and third is in land, but not in bird; My fourth is in cat, but not in dog; My fifth is In keen, but not in sharp; My sixth is in mouse, but not in toad; My seventh is in toad, but not in frog; My eighth and ninth is in north, but not in eonth; My tenth and eleventh is in land, but not in field; And my whole is tho name of a town. Mao John Venning. XI. A town in South Russia; a town in Irelnnd; a river in Yorkshire; a river iu France; a town in England; a range of mountains in Austria ; a town in Ireland ; a town in England; a river in England; an island of Africa; a river in Scotland. Tho initials will give tho name of tho 1 editor of a celebrated paper, and tho finals tho street where it is published. W. White. XII. I am a word of eight letters. My 1, 2,3, 4 is the opposite to death; my f>, G, 7, 8 Is very often seen on a river ; and my whole is what everyone should wish success to. W. White. sin. A town in England; surname of an English writer; a province of Portugal ; a river in tho United States; a town in Ireland; a town in Franco; a range of mountains in England ; a country in Africa ; a town in Russia; a country in Europe ; a part of tho arm* The initials read down wards and the finals upwards will give the names of two famous writers. T. HUTCHINSOB. XIV. . í I consist of 21 letters. ï My 1,9, 11,4,1,15 is a boy's namo; my 3, G, 1, 21 is n girl's name; my 1G, 1, 9, 8 is a mineral; my 10,1G, 8 is a mineral; my 21, 6,1,19 is an enclosure *, my 3, G, 17, 7, 13, 2, 8 is a gentleman's houso; my 14,2, 8, 19,9, 8 is a tiSty in England; my 11,1,13, 7,10, 2,14 is a port in England; and my whole is an English proverb. T. Hutchinson. ANSWERS TO CRACKERS, N0. 169. I. Boys of tho World; bottle, oyster, door, yes, worst, toys, row, doll, sword, food, toll, bell, soft, two, bed, fleet, word, sower. II. Success to the Boys of tho World; Noe, west, door, lord, cutter, bey, Hebe, Worcester; Foote, Bess, sword. III. The Miser's Son, Prince Nankin; TiN, Herl, E1K, Mediterranean, IndiA, SpaiN, EaglE, Rhetoric, gweet-sultaN, Semi, OleandeR, NneP. IV. Sledge; SamueL, EdwarD, GeorgE. V. Hampstcad Ileath. VI. Boys of the World; wolf, ere, bother, boy, pore, ford. VIX. Sir John Moore; sire, risen, Moor, Joe. VIII. Tho Boys of England; tho [snob] was [annoyed] because [flogged] by the [boys], IX Boys of tho World; brother, yew, red, lord, soft, foot, horse. X. Paul Dcrwent; Paisley, Acre, Umballa, Ludlow, Dacca, Ely, Richmond, Windsor, Elba, Nancy, Tigris. XI. Fishmonger, chemist, stationer. XII. Cribbage, Speculation, Beat your neigh- bour out of doors. ХШ. Bojsof the World, the Young Men of Great Britain, tho Boys of England. XVI. Lavy Molten, Harry Arden; LeaH, AdA, VotcR, YouR, MaY, OpcrA, LoveR, ToaD, EvE, RavoN. XIV. PLUM XV. ONCE LUTE ' NEED TJTIS CEDE MESS EDEN NOTICE! TO OUR CONTRIBUTORS. ! To save contributors tiie trouble of writing respecting Hie non- insertion 0/ their puzzles, we shall ^ in future, adopt (he plan 0/ naming the month during which those under consideration were received. The following list of'' Accepted '* and '* De- clined" are those received during the month of DECEMBER, 1869. ACCEPTED.—H.St. André, P. Laidman. H.W. Hope, G. Brown, George M. W., W. P. Trinder, and Ernest Sumner> George. M. Woodhouse, Edmund Peermund, W. Lear, Samuel Snozzle, C. It. Hawkes Piper, Arthur J. Harries, M. T. Clarke, F. Crow, Thomas Hudson, F. N. Edwards, Mary and Emily Jennings, William White,, M. J. Opperman, Michael Holland, W. Luke, H. N. Dickson, a Dublin Boy, DECLINED.—Charles Kerr (holly is spelt with two Г si, Alfred (no answers), MacJohn Venning (we bave seen the same differently worded before), R. & B. (no answer), J. Cobb (your spelling is deficient), J. С. E. Gladman (you Jiave omitted to send, the detailed answers), Thomas Reynolds (very frequently inserted), Т. Д. Hammond (no such animal as tho "m am m or th" ever existed ; you meau the mammoth), James Huggirfs (often inserted). Solutions Received.-MacJohn Venning, H. St. André, Ann Well, Colin Young, R. W. Cummins, Henry Chambers, R. Л. and F. G. English. 368 [MATS li MÍO/ BOYS OF ENGLAND. Corosgmtktttt. %* All Communications to be addressed to the Editor* Mr. Edwin J. Beett, 173, Fleet Street, E.C, We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal, %» Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a ralo we cannot undertake to answer our Correspondents In a shorter time than threo weeks. Letters must be prepaid. %• Correspondents tcho wish to receive replies by post must in alt cases send stamped directed envelopes, A "Would-be AitusT.-Raffaclle (or Raphael) Sanzio was Ьогд at Urblno, 1483. IIo was one of the most celebrated painters of tholltallan school. Ills works, which are numerous.: are distributed over Europe. Galileo Galilei was a distinguished Italian astronomer, who invented the telescope which bears his name. His assertion that the earth moved round the sun gave such offence to the in- quisitors that he was cited to liome, and compelled to recant his statements. Galileo was born at Pisa, 1564; he died near Florence. 1642. Dante, the most distinguished of Italian poets, wrote a great poem, "La Divina Corn- media." This poem was the first written in the Italian language; beforo it, the Latin tongue had always been employed. Dante was born at Florence, 1265; he died at Kavenna, 1321. Michael-Angelo Buonarotti was a cele- brated Italian painter and sculptor, and was also the architect of St. Peter's at Rome. Born in Tuscany, 1474; died 1664. Wo are unable to decipher the last name on vour list, but if, ач it seems probable, you mean Torquato Tasso, that worthy was a celebrated Italian poet, the author of an epic poem called ** Jerusalem Delivered." He was born at Sorrento, Naples, 1544: died, at Home, 1505. W. Bex wishes to be Informed respecting talllage. "There are two sorts of talliage," says Madox, in his History of the Exchequer. *• The talllage rendered to the king was raised upon his demesnes, escheats, and wardships, aud upon tho burghs and towns of tho realm. In tho elder times It was usually called donum, and asslsa donum was used with great latitude. To avoid confusion I have, in my own mind, reduced its meaning to two or three particular heads —thai is to say, when it was paid for or out of tho lands whicJi were not of military tenure, it signified hidagc: when it was paid out of knights' fees, it was scutage; and when it was paid by towns and burghs it was talllage; or it signified in general, according as it was applied, cither aid, scutage, or talllage." -In Expectant. — Tho Excise ofllce means tho Inland Revenue department. Copying clorks enter between 16 and 30, and temporary clerks at 18. The examination for cither conslstslof exercises designed to test handwriting and orthography, and elementary arithmetic. Good interest is required to obtain a nomination. Joss and Jake.—(1.) Probably your wishes will be com- plied with. (2.) We gave the history of the Pope in gomo of the former numbers. (3.) We think there arc a sufficient number out. (4.) Glad you are pleased with, tho talcs generally. Morpaunt.—(lOvWIld horses and catties, monkeys, tapirs, porcupines, deer, hares, armadlllocs, 'ant-eaters: (2.) *• What to Eat and Avoid" is a published work. Your bookseller will tell you tho price. (3.) -It is not only in- jurious, but unmanly. Do glvo up, sleeping in your trousers. (4.) Yes; cither will do. . John Chandos.~(1.) Tho law was formed for tho purpose of suppressing the outrages upon tho fields and grounds of tho landed proprietors. It was tho general title of any law among tho Romans, and dates from that era. (2.) John Hampden was born in.London, in. 1594. He. died In tho Field of Chalgrove, at the head of his troops. His last words were a touching and beautiful prayer for the welfaro of his country. (3.) Yes; the successor of Henry I. his uncle. J. Russell.—(1.) You had better apply to Messrs. Green, Wlgram, or Smith, who aro the first great shipowners ; but .wo think you must have, some interest with them to get tho berth you want. (2.) You can procuro our Journals not only in America but in all civilized parts of tho world. A Constant Sübscäideb.—(1.) You will perceive how to get on with your play, and the manner in which they arc done, by referring to any of the plays issued by.us. When you want music to be introduced, you can write the, word "music." (2.) You must excuse us declining to-mention any particular ladylike actress. There are so many. (3.) Hard work, and plenty of It. Rbtujlned to the World.—Can you tell mo the origin of Red Cross Street, City? Mattland says that at the upper end of Red Cross Street, and north-cast corner of Beech Lane, stood a red and white cross, which gave names to the streets so called. One Anxious to Know—(l.) The "London screw ftcamer foundered in the Bay of Biscay on the nth of January, I860. She had about 200 persons on board, all told, out of which stxtccnof the crew and three passengers only were saved. (2 J Consult a doctor. 13.) will shortly be advertised. ■ Enquiiier London, we are told, taken from Woolwich to Wandsworth, and from Norwood to Hampstead, cover* an area of 120 square miles, or 70,200 acres, with a density oí population varying from 2,500 per square mile at Lewis- ham, to 170,000 per square mile at the East End. Tiíe Rover.—(1.) Wo cannot possibly tell you to what height you will grow. <2.) The talc you speak of will bo completed in about fourteen numbers. (3.) Yes; very well indeed. A YoUNO Collector.—in some of tho copper coins of tho Tcign of George II. tho knee of the figure or Britannia bears an accidental rcscmblanco to a mouse or rat in shape. •* Mouse halfpennies " are well known to collectors. G, Holland.—We are at all times pleased to have a word of commendation from parents. It shows tho high value placed upon our works, which have attained such a world- wide celebrity. F. Eoerton.—We are sorry the subject you speak of docs not please you: without exception wo arc glad to find you are pleased with the work that has now stood tho test of time. A Stutterer.—There are many works upon stammering published, but we think that somo well-experienced medi- cal gentleman would best advise you. Lightning jack.-New London Bridge was opened by King William the Fourth and Queen Adelaide, on Monday, August 1,1831. M. L. Thompson.-(1.) Good Friday, In the year 1856, fell on the 2lst March. (2.) Your handwriting is very good. Jolltheart.—Wohavo repeatedly answered tho question. The surname of tho Queen is Guelph. White CocKADE.-The standard height for the Infantry has been fixed at 5ft. 6in. A Lover, of Independence is informed that the first shot of the American civil war was fired on the 12th of April, 1861. Major Anderson, commanding the United States forces at Charleston, when South Carolina seceded, had strengthened Fort Sumter, in Charleston Harbour, by pouring into it the garrison of Moultrie, another fort near the entrance of the haven. The movement was regarded by the Confederates as an overt act of hostility. The sur- render of Sumter was demanded from the Washington Government, who, after some delay, not only refused the request, but intimated their intention of sending Major Anderson supplies. This was accepted by tho Confederates as equivalent to a declaration of war. General Beau- regard, a skilful engineer, was dispatched by President Davis to direct the operations of the siege. On the nth of April, a demand for the surrender of the fort was refused, but Major Anderson, on the repetition of the demand, offered to capitulate in throe days, if no overruling orders arrived from Washington. The Confederates decided not to accept this Offer, and at half-past four on the morning of the 12th the bombardment began from Fort Moultrie, which was occupied by the troops under Beauregard. A furious flriog continued all day, about 1,500 shot and shell being discharged. On the following morning, Major Anderson, being unable longer to hold the fort, surrendered, No life was lost on either side. П. W.—The Bible was published in English by.Coverdale in 1535, and by Tyndalo's friends in 1537. In the latter edition, at tho end of Malachi, aro Tyndale's initials in flourished ornamental capitals. In 153U these translations were re- vised under the direction of Archbishop Cranmer and Lord Cromwell, and the new edition was called "The Great Bible." The Book of Common Prayer was first printed ш 1549, and the Psalter, with the epistles and the gospels, was, of course; copied from the then authorised version of 1539. On tho revision of the Book of Common Prayer in 1661 it was ordered that the epistles and gospels should bo taken from the authorised version of the Bible of 1611, but the Psalter itself was to remain with tho old translation of **The Great Bible." Tyndale*s age at the time of his martyrdom is not certain, but it is conjectured that he was about 49. He was burnt at Vilford, near Brussels, in 1536. Royal Iaisn—Field works are temporary fortresses of earth employed either to enable an army to hold a particular position, or to protect a permanent fortress from the ap- proach of an enemy. In tho latter case they are denomin- ated outworks. Tho simplest is tho redan. It is shaped like an angle, the two sides, or faces, being parapets, with a ditch in front. At either extremity short parapets are raised, so as to enable a handful of soldiers to uro Into the ditch, supposing tho enemy to get thus far in his attack. The salient or point of the angle Is sometimes broken into a straight line of parapet, capable of affording room for a banquette for four or five men to fire from. Were tho angle to be rigidly preserved, that part of the work would be very easily assailed. D. VAUGnAN and J. Catawat.—(1.) Tholtallcs are gene- rally meant to emphasise certain words. It.wIU afford you a pleasing relaxation and great instruction if you search out the tense", thereby testing your powers of application. (2.) The author of ** Strongbow" is tho author of the "King of the School." (3.) The Rev. John Wesley was the son of Samuel Wesley tn« elder, and was educated at the Charterhouse with Whitfield. Ho founded Methodism. He was bornât Erpworth, Lincolnshire, in 1703, and died in London, 1791. (4.) If running gives you a pain in the side, give it up. It is quite certain that if you run far, you will lose your breath. J. Williams.—Historians estimate that the number of per- sons put to death in England under pretext of witchcraft amounted to 30,000. Witchcraft was universally believed in throughout Etiropo till the sixteenth century, and even maintained its ground with toierablo firmness till tho seventeenth. The number of great men who believed in it Is rather humiliating to the pride of human intellect. The greatest persecutor of so called witches, in England, was a certain Matthew Hopkins, born in Manningtreo, in Essex. He boasted that ho had destroyed seventy of them. Typo From tho Newspaper Directory wo learn the follow- ing on the present position of the newspaper press :—There are now published in the United Kingdom 1,390 newspapers, distributed as follows :—England—London, 266, Provinces, 793; total 1,059. Wales 55, Scotland 131, Ireland 129, British Isles, 16. Of these, there are 71 daily papers pub- lished in England, 2 in Wales, 11 in Scotland, 14 in Ireland, and 1 in.the British Isles. Giles Evergreen.—We really cannot Inform you which !s the largest and most beautiful theatre in the world. The Cbâlet and the Lyrique, in Paris, are thought by somo to bo very large and handsome: Covent Garden, Drury Lane, tho Standard, and the Britannia, are undoubtedly the largest theatres In London. As regards the beauty, tho press has stated that the Standard is one of the most hand, some. When you visit London we should advise you to see the four, and judge for yourself. Johnny'Raw.—Wo believe the expression "Bono, Johnny," originated among tho English troops engaged in the Crimean campaign. It was regarded by bom the English and Turks as a token of goodwill, satisfaction, and com- mendation. Tho native milkmen in passinsr through the camps were invariably heard to exclaim "Bono, Johnny I Soocii sood !" The phrase of*' No bono, Johnny I" indicated that the article offered was not required. Johnson You are wrong. Stephen Gardiner, the ec- clesiastic, was not beheaded. He was for somo time con- fined in the Tower; but on tho accession of Mary.was restored to his former position. A Reader.—(1.) The comic stories have at all times been favourites with oui readers. Of course it is impossible to pléase every person. (2.) We know of no cure for your defective speech. There are many persons who profess to cure it. Look at the advertising columns of the papers. A. O. W.—The enlisting of men for the British Army is, for the present, stayed. A lieutenant's commission in a cavalry regiment will cost you £700. W. Jones.—A private in tho Life Guards has not more than threepence per day for himself out of his pay. A. Broadhurst.—We havo no recollection of having re- ceived your letter. Needful.—We cannot tell. Search the list of tho Members of the Royal College of Surgeonj. J. C. Scapy.—Your suggestion shall be taken Into con- sideration. P. Campbell—(1.) In about 20 numbers. (2.) Tho "Young Apprentice " can bo had by writing to the publisher. Peter Piper.—Send us a legibly written letter, and we will answer you. Alfbed the Great.—Will you kindly refer to tho second column ot the correspondence in No. 46 of this work? Not for Joe.—Your writing is very good, and will suit a lawyer's ofllce admirably. С Finneman.—We have no recollection of tho article you speak of. Can you send another copy f NiflHT Light—The "Great Britain," steam-ship, was launched July 12,1843, in the presence of Prince Albert. J. Found.—Verses declined with thanks. "YOUNG NOTICE. MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN" AND "BOYS OF ENGLAND" GUIDE-BOOKS, Price Twopence, each; post-free1 Threepence. 1. GUIDE-BOOK FOR ROWING AND GYM- NASTICS. 2. GUIDE-BOOK FOR WALKING, RUNNING, JUMPING, FOOTBALL,4 •'>* /*. *' л: The usher ©raid'plainly.-see that all* had been, preconcerted. y '. . f. "Nothing. Mr. King .will say nothing, Mr.' Allen," sait^a sweet'TD'içû ;;and böföre^he:u^er was,aware-oïar, a fairy-li^e form had'seated" iU self beside him*.*- J' % h , 1 /;;V Wfiçn >|ie_£urnedwjt'ôwards her- -he'saw -what quite ^be^vildcrcd his penses—a. vision of blue ..eycsy^jgoldcn' hair, /fláug^ing.ílip?, irosy cheeks, while, toicompletje i.ttiejw}tchéryí \ allittle wh>te hand was píáced^upon.his ,the gentle voice continued— 4i ^4"i^1H^¿£v '( v'* (V;<*Mr{Kirig*ís a nice man. I know bim well, and J am sure ity ou intercede with, him, he will, •forgive us all. And you will intQrcede jor us,_I know, Mr. Allen ; I've heard wtiafra good-natured •nTan you are." ^_ '"^Гр\^» the^ô*ûrîgt"Jlacîy wbö^;ad%T5ecn' selected for the difficult and tfelicate task of coaxing Bedford AlRfî7\varfûirtiinelë"ën yearTÔFagé. She had undertaken the duty partly out of fun—partly to oblige her younger schoolfellows —from whom she was soon to part; and so she threw into its accomplishment all the art and archness she was mistress of. When, therefore, the usher saw her beaming eyes pleading up into his, and the pretty mouth wreathed into smiles, and felt the touch of the little hand "upon bis shoulder, bis heart melted like snow before the sun. He felt sure that he had made a conquest; he iWas all at once convinced that this lovely girl had joined—perhaps invented the idea of the pic- nic,, Eolely that she might meet him; his bosom, fluttered, and—well, Miss Ida Worthington little imagined'what an immeasurable nuisance she had created for. herself_m the future, by her, simple act of/good nature; r„,, "Well/miss,":he ^stammered, laying his, hand upon his heart; androgling;*her:in .the most ludi- crous-mariner imaginable, ts who could refuse any thing, that , came » f гоиц suchTeweet ; lips .as , yours? Bût let mc beg of you, .miss, to under?. stand, * that'by allowing this "* I peril .the good opinion4of Mr. King. 'It is,quite against all.dis- ■ ciplinebut-^rf:" ' <' ^-A í '.Í!V>' . "Then you see it's so pleasant .and so unusual; said Ida,,. insinuatingly;¡Ísomething]to,beTre- memhere&r-rat ¿riy rate Ъуш." ' • l\'Aï* ; СЩЪ'У These words, and:a sigh,-!gained theMctory. Redford 'Allen, was completely, decided now. T^o Io|ely girlvhad[falien! desg^tely in love with Hnv^thjis.wái.qüitc evideîit ymà to-such a peerless ^eatii^ what could he deny ?^.UЛ . He bowed w№ kill- ing grace h,i Ida; 1 rfí':*\)\*. Then he turned to the scholars.. *:*^f;; vt "Boys," {he ' saidj ^solemnly, i [{Ii must .say that when I saw', these Jadíes^these i beautifulJ:yojing ladies—enter tho .ruins,;/If>vas ^ shocked, arid grieved. ;But this lady; has * explained all.7. On this occasion I cannot * but ;"permit what; at other times I should1 cbridemh^ meal and'!eniöy yourseireeri*#ïàV, . . "Ah J %U& added.; ihÇà^ntimentâlt "ùrider- alone^laims -your.; admiration;'' The scholars^'St; Albania needed no/further incentive. y. ;.. ^ 3 HV-.; ы^. t. Until the courageous * Ida- had ;l commenced hostilities and gained the victory, it was scarcely etiquette to begin, so the intervening time had been spent in much giggling and youthful love- making, very pleasant, but scarcely satisfying. , Now, however, both scholars arid guests set tó with a will, and a most delightful.dinner it was. imagine, hoys, tjic. scene for yourselves; and you Nyho'havc travelled, lcjng^r alpng ii|c]s- rough high road, try to.tírmg4ba¡ck to ypiir *йЩ? Щ picture as it-was in those ^naint old daysAvJicn George the Second wasrking„ An" atmosphere glowing withA the. Warm summers sun.;,grey, i vy-covered .w^ls, shclterj. ing ironi t}mt sun's -fierce; rays'oUr groups-of 'happy boys; and" girls, (wi#* factó beaming >уДЬ unalloyed pleasure, forgetting in thé delights,of tho present moment all evils in the past, all dread of evil in the future; a cool breeze now and then blowing in over the grassy meads from Lanborne Lake—ringing laughter—wreathing smiles! "J Vv- ■ Even Bedford .Alien, cynic аз-Ле was, could not avoid joinirig;in the general joy. And so all went merry as a marriage bell.; Save for one. ■ - * And- that one was Harry Douglas. ^ ^ Ha'hàd, as I have said, joined with right good wilH.n the plan, and had done his utmost in the way of money to forward it. But when the idea had been carried to a,suc- .cessful^.issu^,;arid;the yo^rigigirl^^tting round the-pleasant "dinner-tablç,J^f (if ^we can apply the/term!;to thö*grassy mound: ônî,which 'they fàined),* were^1 laughing their," merriest, "he \had felt a pleasant thrill through his heart. , i. B.u£(Jhis \\^sp;qt\ ex.cjia^nged ftp bitterness. ^ Beside, him sat ar lovely girl, some two years ïis*'junior,'and ehV chatted- pleasantly enough witlf him^and seemed' resôlvéd tö enjoy «hersélf thöt^ügh;ly. , •. ': But, glancing at the opposite side of the party, Ш "cäuglit" lîghf öf^TSIillicerit Aller tön ~ áñd" Richard Farmer. Then the demon of jealousy invaded his heart with a rush. He could see plainly that theirs was more than the common pleasure of the pic-nic. Those beaming eyes; that swelling bosom; that sweet interchange of courtesies told of the dawn of love in their young hearts ; and though no one observed it except Harry Douglas, to him it was as gall and wormwood. Everything now became confused. A mist seemed to float before his eyes, and when his fair companion rallied him on his •silence he answered rudely—almost savagely ; so much: so, indeed, that she turned to Newton Rae. -GlácLwas he when there at last seemed a dis- position upon the part of the company to disperse, that he might glide away, and be alone with his own evil thoughts. , Meanwhile, Millie and Richard were as happy as their youth and-dawning passion could make them ; and, in the wild exuberance of his spirits,' our hero sbon invented a new, plan of amusement, also prohibited*.'by the master* of ; St. Alban's School except .under his .own immediate super- vision. This was boating. Lanborne Lake, so clcse at hand, was the un- wittingxauso of this mischevious idea. On its calm and placid breast reposed many a tiny skiff, and no sooner had the idea been whispered; into the pleased ear of Millie Allerton, than she sîily imparted it.to hefneighbour ; and so the suggestionnent the round of the com- pany, without a .word of it. reaching the ears ot Redford AllenV ...т,. л >r In fact, the usher was now completely under the influence of his fair, captiyator, who, having nothing better ;to dó^árid.nofeVcaring to - jndulge in any real flirtation with.thVlads of St. Alban's; went irirforjan assumed one with the poor man,* and^madç;! him feel as if in the very seventh heaven of delight. The boys and girls, roused by Richard's sug- gestion, now speedily disposed of their meal, arid, leaving some of the younger lads to collect' the debris of the dinner, darted away before even the love-intoxipated usher could demand where they; wpre going. * ;;':(*.Реаг mc l/ déar -me Î" he cried,.starting; up just as,the last lad disappeared bejxmd^he wall;; "what are these "dreadfuf boys riptfaîVà^Théy will be getting into mischief¿and T—' "You," said the sweet syren, *' havej?ißjx> look after. Do not forget that." ^ . And во Miss Ida Worthington, leaning on his arm, drew him^purj^qs.ejy^vyay from the lake where the la^s^vere ^proposing to enjoy them- selves as they had never done before.. Led bnby.tneir ringleader, Riejaard Farmer, who, in ¿he delight of the' mome.nt, forgot all about school discipline-r^forgot all, indeed, save that the sun was shining, and Minnie Allerton was by his sideNtJ)e tyoys of. St. Alban's and their lovely guests made all haste to the side of the lake. Here, beneathsomcBhady willows, they found ■two. bpats,. anjd} хд„ 4fi>v foments - the * most venturesom.elot'tjio .party \ycrAafbakqu the «tili bosom'of-the waters, while the others, wishing them good speed, ran off into the leafy woods. CHAPTER X. THE DEED OP A TRAITOR. Like too many fools ot.an older growth, Harry Douglas, when he■ saw th'e happiness of Millie and Richard, flew to drink to drown his care. He emptied!;a large tankard of strong old-ale, andas theTurâes rose to his ^rain, he felt a very devil, working within him. }¡ . Thoughts/ arQse|4u his Jobsom which almost alarmçd himj and'glad was hé/ as I have said, when.theplacaíwa?clcar/aíid'he was able to get away from his comrades. *~V."V4'' * -*Xhe sights he; had sceni anil- the,;drink he had foolishly takeh4iri\consequenсе,-appeared to^mag- ь nify in his mind'"the' extentiíot-his. bwnltroubles —ifj trouble at'xastö, see the happiness of one ho'unjustîy%hated>'J4"' f ;" u ^ His bosom heaved-his h(Jaft-palpitated with* desire for revenge. ' \ , " :v ; revenge in the future. v q.' J That was not enough to suit his inpatient spirit. . . '* He must have revenge at .одсе. > :>-' - .WithJihesc^feelings-he. found himself oh the shore of Lanborne Lake, some distance from the spot where the merry pleasure seekers were pre- paring to launch their boat. It was, in fact, the very spot where Redford Allen had resolved to ensconce himself with his rod and line in search of the finny inhabitants of the dark waters—and thus my readers will at once see that it was shady and solitary. Gloomy and dark, i t j ust suited the state of min d into which Harry Douglas had wilfully plunged himself, and there accordingly he sat for awhile alone, throwing pebbles listlessly into the water, and watching the eddies and fancying that every circle was the face of some enemy laughing at him for his spleen. Near him was a boat—a long, sharp-pointed one—capable o£ being managed by one; and unable after awhile to endure any longer the thoughts of the happiness which his rival was even then enjoying, he sprang up, entered tho skiff, and pulled out into the stream. *Hc had' a very vague notion of where he was going ; but he pulled away hard, to keep his body and mind occupied. * Presently, in the far distance, he caught the sound of silvery laughter. "Qurso.him! curse them all J " he muttered. And then something like a knowledge of his own folly came over him—a sense of his own littleness. Why* was he not with them 1 Wjiyvwas;;liis laughter not mingling with theirs?;, V.. • . f k> Why had he not bright eyes beaming on him, and praising his^ rowing,f*and-daring him to bolder deeds? ^Vhy/in fact,ryra^lienot enjoying himself like the reát?:"' ; > Simply because his evil passions had mastered him—more. simply still, becausG,(kcJ.,had chosen riot to go. \ . N^V'.. //T; I'viThis reasoning .only, rendered .'him the more 'furiOUS. .\A terribly^evil;and malignant spirit seemed urging him^bn^p/a deed from which even his bâd heartivöuldratany other time have revolted. ^p Vll spo^théir. f un," he muttered, and pulling rwith/ desperate -.energy at the oars, he rowed :swiítly,«üi:''th^^^ which proceeded the'laughteri>vhich_h*ad so disconcerted him. '~~-It so happened that at thia moment had arrived that;;unpleasant 'point when the thought of parting .began taavershadow all else. ■ ,The^.time"-fbf "pleasure was; fast drawing to a close:;Caridf;in:iact, the boat containing Richard and ífíllic, and^U^others, Avas * the only one remaimñ^;in*the;;centrcT6£:the.' lake^éxcept that which contained Harry^Dóuglas.>:r-V;: ;. ..../, v Richard,i\vas JnVthe, act of ^turhirig/- and * had the pointof Лиз löng.bp^t tura^ when Douglas; átifull.sp^e^, ¡carne dashing round from.beneath thVäjade,;of the;treès, .heading his ^skifi:.lull at the;centre of his'enemy's.Vv -.^IrOb^déar,Richard,- "we shall be-^pseti's'. cried fMillic;:st'arting.-^^li Sec, ; he .is coming straight "To Richard's mindi'thc:^compreiiension of such a piece of depravity was difllcult indeed. He could only suppose that, Douglas , did not see him. J ONE 1, .1870. j 371 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "Ho, there, Douglas 1" he cried. "Turn your bc#Ç:' ,§teer clear* thçrc; you'll run into us." * But the rower took л о heed. Einhard made a frantic effort to avoid the -collision, but one of thWgirls, seizing one of the -oars ;in. alarm, .obstructed him, and. in another instant the evil was done. ■ -: As the end of Douglas's skiff : dashed against the.side of the other, the frightened gir}s sprang up,, the boat toppled over, and- all were in an in- itiant precipitated into the .deep water. * One glance Richard caught of rilarry's vengeful face, and then, the author of the mischief had s£ed rapidly on. -Richard, who was an excellent swimmer, at once seized Millie, while, from the shore, half-a- he^comcs.: Oh 1 won^he* catch it." "I don't mean" to tell at all," said Richard, cnijptly,. "Д mean to punish him myself." f "'Very"good," said Newton ; "besides, Skin- and-'Boncs is not here yet." Some of the younger ones began now to drop away,.1 but presently Millie and her friends re- turned and soon the lads and girls were dancing .arid laughing, as if nothing had happened to disturb the harmony of the party. 'Richard alone was moody and silent, and ever and anon his eyes glanced across the water in -search of the boat of Harry Douglas. : "I am afraid that you meditate something Which will get you into trouble," said Millie, •ge'ntly, as she laid her hand On his shoulder, and passed -lovingly into his face. "For my sake come away."" - "There are few things that I would refuse to do for your sake,'Millie," said Richard; "but I must refuse this. I owe this Douglas a grudge aiowl and I mvst pay it costwhat it may." ''This was, alas 1 the spirit which animated him through life even in less just quarrels. ; 'Again'and again the gentle creature by his side-urged him to desist. • ?• BtuVhe would not. Rightly enóugh" he regarded Douglas as a •cowardly traitor, and as such he resolved: to punish him. The opportunity was not now long in present- ing itself. Л.;- Slowly approaching was seen the boat of Harry Douglas; who'resolved to plead inability to swim as the reason why ¡he afforded no help. Ho had sincerely hoped that the sudden plunge might prove fatal to Richard, and when he saw him standing on the shore still in his. shirt sleeves,: his heart:sank' within him. He felt that something was comiüg. , Assuming, however, as much bravado as he could, he began slowly paddling his boat to the place where the girls and Redford Allen, too, had assembled. When he had arrived within a few yards of the shore, Richard sprang into the water, and, wading oat till the water was above his waist, he stopped the boat. "What are you doing, Farmer?" cried Douglas. "Don't you see I want to come ashore?" "I do," said our hero; "I see you want to come ashore, spick-and-span, without a particle of water on ypur vile body, when you have not only tried to drown me, your enemy, but three other innocent persons. But I'll show you a different ending to your pranks than what you expected;" So saying, he leaped forward, and, ere Douglas could prevent him, had seized h im by the throat. Obliged to raise his hands to protect himself, and, if possible, release himself from the grasp of his resolute enemy, Douglas of course left his hold of the boat, and as it careened over, Richard dragged him head foremost into the water. He, himself, was staggered л little, but while! his antagonist reappeared, puffing and blowing,, with his mouth full of mud and water, our hero's head and face were untouched. Ere the traitor could recover himself, Richard again seized him by his neckcloth, and began forcing him back again into the water, "I'll teach you to play your murderous tricks on me and mine," said he, as he struggled hard I with his taller and stronger foe. Even in the terrors of his excitement, Douglas remembered the presence of the spectators. Otherwise, he would have cried for mercy. . As it.'was, he struggled with a vengeance. Down,again he was forced, however, until his head was below water, and then, as for a moment Richard released^ his toid, he dashed the water torn-his .eyes, and-,stood up with clenched fists. He saw at once that Redfor,d " AÜcn^had. re- solved to dare all rather than compromise himself now. '. It was a fearful trial for the boy's pride;—even the worst of us have pride, false or trup. But he gave in< t ..... , He knew in-hí? own. hcar,t tl^c truly hideous nature of- his . crime, [and 4iet,,rosc,' therefore, white, ghastjy, with, уапсф emotions, :from the ground. , m . ¡ , Advancing to o,ur¡ ,herp lie; held, out his hand. "ГЦ give you my-hand, Richard," he sabina, voice thick with anger; "but- there's nothing 372 BOYS OF ENGLAND, jor vv lií<'h í bavo Ь1 f. ay" Vi 41. ■Jit Î '..пел* i íp^'t Vo '.'î'/' orbd our !)r!'(mbrrnpf hay hha, - and abb aafban?, iaiabba.^ ib-,' probrrad band, • bb bab f>n the byb-ai <-г<';Иш'1' iiti and wan. od tcwíirw Mali*- Л!bA• >:¡. Л \ tííY rll.M'TKIt XI. 'I <•( ;f h '< 'L; %5 V НМЛ ГИЬН T< - i'KAN«; к паан,о>, (nт;кг>4 1.;mí!H'''1'-i AAaîoa was oaiabd off bv f ba five in wha bail y< ,b il Ьщ. of old St, Л! baaA rlinrrh, ha baaal ab ho bad ádb î; hit*? Iba bu ab of .> had no nb'siiM to abuso tb-ir W!íí;n b î;a< оапа, a? \ bo a.- ípbáb! îl,(w \vb fan I only. lar/ lían who barî bc'î! wonanbd by Sir í*a;;i»'4"i*•tV sword-íhra,4, liad b»* piu, in»' yobbb bab banns tu нк^'с, *' yob ra a man of Ьагиаиа ara yon ma. Ь 'IIь're \vaaf af aauray no aroayor» Tíi. aaa a a. îmm i ; - $ ï t. A» ч!Ьг/ a \v. rb In ♦lk I« Í паи, ;v 'a Pas* y-ab'! b'op k' WbJ, nnan 1 //í«;í/ ba a foi-1, ЛаЛЬ abb il?»' y ab< a »* 1 b-.'-fu! Им1 О'па barna had yî a na aAAab ДЬ '. ЬааА hï' band» bad -avo ta: a band .»*» -ana'b and аы>"'Ь a?> a btbyA. Wn!b ! bat b do л -, waib iVov, b ob baa, Sir Íanaaa>. 1 у А уоа ггм'аа «а аи* а ара" /<-, I? i lab«- <-Л tЬai «,:*ia. ail! yaa yr^iraai- n«,ii î cry !"''; b(i;|a' lb"'ur .»•4 ,t /- ïb Ьча'аа" A •;, с :i'«a ;-фЧ'г;а< '.va; îji" а»'ь';,-<\ la ;s,,m u;,.lans ïli<; y;isva-'1 rcíiiííVCib *bl'b;a',b Ha;jvv»h i" aaaiiïiiî'a'l laa I was ai'.'aly -ibb'.b" '* 1 ^;::»v..'«! Í1, ï kiiaw'a i*, ;arb* '-aid !b«' ïa:aa b jVr i'Vi- bt s ïl Knl.'' * ;.b'by' b a.y ban- - и*," a;a!;. b а''! î-> ■ 1 brba\ a ai,»:î aab,«i b;b na' a bi>aií¡c^s.M "Ь,г Aî'a'ï- lía- tîi'-ra, v/a-' a wbaanab иоаГ-ач i .*r i-b', î 'f , i ?î b"»! ia< r.4 ,? i-ûia - ;î«r â:aaar *.vb, ч> !, ai a',a íííwa ;'*^ib'iíba b -a aab aaana-ai < \- i4:b aa'af. 'ib.- ! b ¡ ; - ai;a; a'b»; laib !;r,a ^}»г4.<-п -M'a -~ H-< a. i,a-«'. r. Wa'\f- y f t*/ i;b,.' y,S; In * ir.-.' -b Î 'i,-' :>■;- lïy ,,Ь( !ba; ablb и kínb oí baa.ba Ib.u!,( *a -1 i'-!" í'obn.'b Sir L.-aaa-i-by M *\\laa^ aoí harm i is'Ti-, î îarayb if b*: :i qu^ai' crib, \bav. if y- -.a'И уаниа ' !>i«', ií y«u И 'av»ar tu an- a a. у>»мГ "ïuiaia1/ s,a!\^i» iaai t h.al yaibb «;n S и îîht" • -a;»!, ;',S b»" • •' a * î i * <' .-ri' a! » *" t b;> a a aiv-b'3'у, W'jiv. 1 bav^ b'. !""i-f, b:a Í'. ь a 'b F/aïa'-r .•• < чаау, í' >:îaab)' ,*-|!мл** - 1 ';aJ ;a'{ b «fí ai í b<- y.rrb . At anv rai..-! il. ча: íbb->t Sí "T- a" Ab- :a b " b' bar nt'Abîta", wb-'^n îî:î v- î î wbH-b you <•;(]! tb" 1 {Ьь'/ks' TÍí«: <*anb;a,r»* nbbA aa. ïtaa r¡a>«Л1.ч was nnuba-b, w и)»! aífabni any înf< »rrnaf \ w f a a a b»' aaairbA • I Ai. b'nafla h- tbry Гг-а^мга ab * • r-a,-í aab <»f Laîabna tb«' <'!ar- t'- k m Habana lau tr. tb'Ib, aabt ai'a-a a« avr» -.bvp !:bb 1Ь:Г«* fini îioiiHia w.-a- -b' 1b-: Ьал-ast bina, ruai î b ■ yava¡a « - í i b'1 a>;ib. w:i4 >>, bab y t bay |>а'<анЬ« ! (■( я» vv'-üb ír-ía Ilia* <\\ ay/"i t¡' an»! as a<'b a - î ' » _;,a ! aba íba! i! w j ¡H-í'-aaí î y i'.;! j i i pAabv uva-. , Ai last» ¡Aaa al , b-" 'b'aa, a,t, a a-i1 i r:i!'-. b сааа- a> a : llcil Stop—SO 8Ш k* W-'ra tiaav. lï.irv. v. ',sibl íba, " íAr íb;b'.4 \vi>b tn f¡iV br** ,1)fb íhba.a Wln-a уьи ^ ts la Books' yoaMi mvrt soma ana'yaa »•;Lарк лЬг'П кау, * ih;ivf I.Ii". Harvyy tak" l'Iris fifiabbaaa an«) ¡mí hi?n unboanl — "Stop < aliaba lb - filter ffsjartly lb! |»ra»abrti>; la y' ata aaaua a«5 t Ьа жиаа way I a al r«- а, br»c;;iao f • îaaiî.'irt'f líapp шт word.'' ^ u Ни ï, haaij; me b" 1 a'-k yu» bi b-» il," ,avib lia* Jnaîî. a-'jaaaa!g ta îtiab» 1 la» b'taiffy -And, stay, yo'Sv* a«a. ;>wa>rt; to p'< in "ftfb'îly )■"!/* An ri Ьряплт tbb ^ir }aaaacf,bit ici. ti^wn lias winiiow aial i^ula-A uni, "Ib-aaaab'T y» a a* 'i.iià, sakf dnn'î nna naa'r Sir Aasanaibaî» япиЬА.. -bíyb.»a.^r i-' ab,b-A aof braak ray warb,; í caá ií пак :ii ;l k'íu bab' If was ,ч îi/aa bfta,-t;tble pïa'ïe, bjb'b«oos fram fía* ansodaíjariM if, :>! <яа*а- rai^-A ia tba. laiiat at' ;ajiiaiuiy aud últb, mid wreteLfdütóc. Tía? a/iabaaa of fba îa^^M were bark with f" m',.:. }н;гЬар,у the va/aA, Г(Г г,]]. Il W£i>'» ж lía lind .said, partially .mimai» and. vAbb fraai lía- î..r-« aaa.í s»maÎ4 »:f аатгап^а* v.aa»' b; ba baai'd, t'a aaayt 1 ba aaïab*"--? '.vbai-avs *»î" fia* ар|на* stories rlie palliai Ътш ahoi her >bat ia^ rays и pi ¡a tía* «".><-а adraabnl flay w-ald' not haya rt^YPi! jiVi my sword uiibaA imiucd !J H:-< n*adbal iaaa w^ro <*at ala al, rit. îbb aji the dai-r af tac baa,-a was aplani, and la- aai.s nslwrrrd into .a dark, marky району and up, a short, wbha, an-a king staircase. Tlaai la* was iala«a into a ,saaila5 «vi! :aablbar roomT pa^'laal ,>r» oía'- :-ida wlada fhr' door was lacked alba non, ara i thtkra left la îaudit.af a in ala-r Аагкааач upon tia' faia- wbbcb аа«а to awai? biai next, fJA» bë continue*}. С<зтт*Ж'."1 in No, ÎTA) oí i be Шш>л o:" bis .aiiííJaa* ( íai BaiiH' liar- 1сп>'|Я ), and warf primant a*, laa: daata in Octo- ber, lab*. bb r lb' baadb "f Ь»ч !ао'*ааг, laabs Nbapolcan raided for somatimoin Switz-TÎnad, araithmayh ïia> pnas dibbasdad }¡i< ot-ralu'-t ia .ayard to tha S!rasbaar'ar aíTab* aba va maatbnad. This iiidüíaal tiiu Jbraucli Uuvumniunt to da- marai bb oxfraditiaa. faaria«,; tb»* ^;Гс<а bb ^Tif incrs mi!y wtib tbb raqtaast, and rasolv.--d in sup- port tba rib$b of Loui^ Napob-aa ;\< ¡¿ bibzan af T'nartraa (in wbibt can i on Qsn;.»r. И-.-га-паа laid ptirciiaâad tbo estate a£ Areiajiibai-g-, where dm dnai). A Kpaibt ana? boira^ aarit to catforna the. ik«» I ba Fronen {h rana, ín August, bsîO, fa» tnafb: aaotkna" abbmp^ Ho aad«-d from Mitrara in a bin.-! M< ana r af P-nbod by a bay Kr- . 1,1 'barfíoa y ar BOYS OF KNGLAND. i f í ааа,м ,,, i,-al oa o:» П< w,.- - 0Í: n a oab ab id! I a i»>, wi od" a v. «и к ru;* ?» » aod íi> ï"i 'i I í ; 1.1 м * * * î t i Л lb" hbo f о fa! ara. oo.aavd: Ьо U'YIV' b b !E ,sL'l, wb Го : < \apoho'i inhabitant.". U""- a~ bibv, ,—: - oí lb- b ibjabb- d« « bo Ndo baad aa:h poop Ibov Oo 'lii'f (:\"<"ii' ibpabba, лС<:Р. To pv, oí îbo Nbj >o]('<<;! «'j|h HUiday vears '!ï!> aO*aai 0, ¡'V. VOabd tbi oí! bad (Г a tin; Fit oab *;-' 1 ;ii aid a br^o ral- •occupy many diapt Tbi- рая у к ii« AV! ioab-tbri к rxo, puUiaaos—won id <|UÍ0f , ariO «" 'Of I ; ; ; i; ill lOOHTO;'.1 ion, Tt< a.dskod \va-. i ÍO,00 Î Ь»' ОГО am! i- SaoOab Mí, oO o> i boo^d, Fnoa*o OoVor Oipoji ba t ! а'м j The chief i aciden rospooi, t° i1'r**fо:Ь Hbo» during Itf.Vhw.stbow, í-í-aih prOirrrSK" OÍ' tbo Ь'ГОчЬЬ íb roí i ir Ь braooo, whcîi ] vteiU'd Mío orí or! s-а] f-Wí mid was, ooi bishoa baby r í-t.'ivd. Aiia'tio^sî oíh'T towns ho i Visitad НП'анЬ.НЗОГ, I ISO vf los owo abf that у oar \vo ooiîk' to loon* ьег1оа< laibhiasH. (îreai «-о--- pjf;;oii« had а«'«'П ог.От- I.'iiiH d fi'oií! lía- Vary íir-t ííj tía1 Ak^'IIV'ÍV of !iiO comíiK'L oí t.lio í'ro->í'.b.Oit; ítlHl î'hey ddsp];iy»:d 10o,iii m * )а?а,'Ы;Г. I*:,), ifí liai •diapo oC д biií ¡or d< ira HOídíiír tho, rospoüMl'i'ity of fllííUStra-H ;U(<Í loo ibbí of ibc sLate. Tla« ohbí point, of ii;Í4 oil i w;,o: ï bat da' iT'osbl'-oc should be hablo to be tried for hipa'! to44*00, and, одщ- soipaaif iy. In los<' ids. hb\ if bo sh'Uîîd Lio pu i b y oí ítti íiliack on, or a ?ba ¡a/aíío{, the sabdv of lia >0oo, oí which ib o nl)joo? .ad^bt bo to dosh'oy orio- nity of io.'O'atiatio^r hirn^olf with t la'array, ao-d by ios aid ¡a: hopoi'i tu in> ílLi¡l: tu subvort tum const Huía r, whbh lio ] íílUifO ííoo It FooitiH ibaf ha: libado privy to Ыя plot il oorlído M» do Mo)-ay. oa \vh.,¡>v dovofi«d р.'гм»па1 .aitaohmaO bo, koow h»' tidtrht о ly, aiidVîlb io^ aid ho raijM-o! to «.o prioo d <,а iti^ht nf fbe 1st DoaembT a. oaadbi î t,ï «íotcov, w!dab a]v 0 '4 ' - Loo IS »N AÍ'oOíaj nar>íOO,' -.г o\íia í;om -; la'vaíua,, i but îhr-o ubat "Па го "»vor« • м-yta'al t о 1 >f-r v/aro iho ioiporoiai v,\.,^ iiaî o* ra d: ib/noo daybi'oîLk <»n îii" toa-noaa; of ibo L'ial ÎU'oo.Mibir. iiuhhto»^ \v«to iñudo. í'oíí»- jobsîoîiors (1* poii*-< odd}", a,)a! wai<- <11 ! '* < о '-aab by ad !< I*- p< .,- ¡ -o'- 'ni(ai Îroîo i,::-,i:tvv.-,ïiïy i: «•• ] < /л ¡,ra о a Inn h a— аро.1а«(;0 i<'laq^aiao i s obpr'syd <Ь oí iba liopooi'ao Tho oííj- /ons ara oiido tí lo \v i î b - bit oí,:-, I'; nd< o o- 'Or- o- m- O-"- íbÜo-ла «b'ooí í;a- .o:ov паан iaííMiil te the Prince I 'r o- a l'ait, and 41 order was ooO ам ■ ,[ Па « ..,( . a- Of оаа.у lives. « o*i ib; giüi f¡"" Ьо< rab' i-, ] o;» 1, bao o aoiÍOíílílig t(> official Maoaof о' Tabd1,^ lo a^ ! í,o lia- a<'pttive» Too day these figures ••л о.о о íbeially made know % or .и • , »sal rä. v.o:o o.ooob' to the' " ^ colon» and to tin lia- booaa, oí Иоо^'ОЧ ; a ,laa--ao'V i"«'d" vd" . .» v.* \x oo:tetitiitson was pnb- H>hod, oa,: \aî iooaS. Guard ro-oj" aid-' d, aod ?iie titles oí too boiab nobility o síoíod. Ad tb- things vory <»ví<íont thai l'b,o к*•Hum' < >il of the V,,¡s only a loíO-'o r o! !Í too. <>:.aeía<,' a ¡,< w» 11>. « оаан- o<;'oa¡i' of iba tno-b (\¡s\ iayaishi'd тооо jo I'dаги*о, Tia'-o aaa¡ \v«a'o t ha coobdaot- b' ba- broidom ir¡ th«' ï«oi'»,H!pH"htiî«»iH of this юоактч», wldoh !ч b a* tb<" oaaaaoî» abaof, J'« a y a ! i-r^ bai whiidi will ai ways обопру a *yrî «г ¡aija. ш ln<{ury, Thrïr oaaa s \wr.'~~M. ri*« St. Aroa'id. jobboa* of war i M. do ло-rav, r<'i>ïf^ nia! ivo of îbo i....,pb. ; aod M, о- MaJoaa^Vo-iaH of p' W'Iaaü'Or • ai wok iïor •»•Maiivo. ,>ï и aloha oí U;a aaaadaouí í ho 2nd 1 Ojoiaobio Л N гу->r4h'iUf y Haj-^íca! oparaíioo v, ,i < btt«;íy rí< ;а»,*'«Ь ^hkb blk'd iba i-ibií sn, Ta*- ¡.'awa ío**'« o,o uvil. Л У oí \o iad ia a?id it aay îosi;'ov, ,ч« I iad! t "'¡'¡II, by a* ibajH'.ad of tia* fía,--- w ill м;.Ф' \n aai \v* га * î i * - f/>ad' i/,'/<',< of t b,o w 0/<-á >'У " ,-potOal to t,la> одД. Па a of îbf kia^o «»f S¡ada bad Ь*м-.а îo.oaoa. ,-.o*ul ia oao ad !¡;al jufl. м-уаоЬ ^íovjnoo-, ya: h*., oy^"u> ÍO;,,; bb aourbia'-, and. tba aaaa aabríaiaiO- h*' р.-аул, v-a« tb-r aaaa- »d^idia i'Kaaiia;o -aaah bonoar^ u Vi-,,'} Sa' i> o.o-at." f-aid a w 0. s' ¡a,at ам a ditah î; pa-aO Tb" 'aonj f;j;itis y««u taka fOiOi íí, tha loay^c il ba- .\ ,ùv<î It was resolved, therefore, to return-together to England, where he and Lizzie were to be united as soon as he was in possession of his patrimony. It was necessary to remain a few weeks at Melbourne to dispose of the farm and our hero's property at the diggings, including the claim to the gold-mine, which of course realized a large sura. Everything was at length satisfactorily settled* and they left Port Philip in a fino clipper-built vessel, which was to call at Plymouth од her way to London, On the second day of the voyage, as Tom was directing Lizzie's attention to a whale that was blowing the water up at a little distance from the ship, he heard close to him a voice that* sounded so remarkably like that of Yankee Palmer that he started, and turned quicidy round. There, at littlG more than a yard from where he stood, was that identical villain, looking as-' gaunt, as sallow, and as repulsive as ever. "What is the matter?" said Lizzie, who, never having seen the fellow, or heard his voice more than once, did not recognise him. "Do you remember the sailor who frightened you so on the day I first saw you?" returned Tom, in a low voice, as he led her to another part of the deck. / "Assuredly," she replied. "Why do you ask?: He was drowned in Melbourne harbour, was he not?" "So it was thought," rejoined Tom. "But' yet he stands there, looking as villanous as ever * he did." "You must surely be mistaken," said Lizzie. Tom shook his head as* his eye followed, tïïè American about the ship. "You, shall see," he rejoined, and, leaving Lizzie's ;;side,\ he moved to where I*almer was then standing.': "Jack Palmer!" he exclaimed;' suddenly slapping the American on the shoulder. If the, deck" had opened and a ghost risen through thé chasm, the man could not have started moré violently, or betrayed evidences of surprise and terror more unequivocal. He stepped back, and stared at our hero with confusion visible in every muscle of his counte-/ nance, and cold drops distilling from his sallow cheeks and forehead. *' Why, Johnsen, what is the matter with you?" said the second mate, struck by the man's strange? agitation. "Nothing, Mr. Barnett, nothing, sir," replied- Palmer, making a desperate effort to seem com- posed. "Only this gentleman mentioned а паще. I the name, in fact, of. an old shipmate of mine, and, as the poor fellow happens to,baye: slipped his cable, and gone to Davy Jones,'Í was rather taken aback."• "Does this man call himself'Johnson"- npw,* Mr. Barnett?" inquired Tom, 'addressing the* officer. k • "He shipped from London in that namc^sir,;* replied Barnett. "Do you know ¿im?" he- added, with a look of mingled curiosity and sur-* prise. "Ask him if he ever went by the name.of Palmer," said Tom, keeping his eyes upon the scoundrel, who now endeavoured to steal, away from observation. , Stay a minute, Johnson, and hear what this- gentleman has to say about ypu," said the mate. "Bo you hear? , He asks if you have ever gone By:themame of Palmer?" í , ■ "Lord bless you, sir 1" rejoined Palmer, Who* wás'< rapidly recovering his command of »his- neryes-and muscles.. "That was the name of thejsViipmate I alluded, to, who was drowned more than' three years ago in Melbourne* harbour;",'.: "He^was supposed to have been drowned," said';Tom/ turning to the mate, "but. he has turned, up again in this pretended Johnson;, rthus verifying an old adage, which, I dare say,, you have heard,—* He that is born: to. be hanged will never be drowned.' I suppose you will tell: me next, that you have never seen me . before2". he added, turning sharply upon the American, "Keyer,; ^so help me General Jackson 1" re- turned'Palmer, with cool assurance. '.; •* The first time I saw that fellow," said: our hero, again turning to the mate, "was on^the; quay at Calcutta, where I thrashed him to;iH-; using a Lascar." ¿: '' "Stars and stripes I" exclaimed Palmer, red- dening with anger. "Do you mean*'me of* Palmer?" , '- ;T" . "I next met him at the diggings,"'continued: Tom, " where he was turned out of a drinking*: shop for cheating at cards. The keeper of that place was robbed and murdered a few nights^ afterwards; and- the hammer with which the crime was committed was stolen from" my tent? the Same night by that man.. Hé was next seen^ a grog-shop in Melbourne, _ where, on! аш attempt being made to arrest him, he stabbed two men with his knife ; but in his flight through* June i, 1S70.J 375 BOYS OF ENGLAND. the darkness he fell into the harbour, and was supposed to have been drowned." "What have you to say to all this, so confi-: dently and circumstantially stated by this gen- tleman?" said Barnetfc, looking sternly at the American. % "All a mistake, sir," replied Palmer. "I never was in Calcutta in my life, arid at the time this gentleman says he sawine at "the diggings yonder I was going round the Horn." "'Well, perhaps after all it is case of .mistaken identity," observed the mate, after .'a pauSe. Palmer gave our hero a scowl: as;he* turned away, and the group which had collected around them broke up, duty calling the mate to another part of the ship, and";TomvLestcr; returning ''to where he had left Lizzie. \уЛ.; f V:' "J: am certain he is the man, though he denies it," said he. "When we reach- Plymöuth I wall give him in chargé for stealing my hammer, and bring'THck against him ás á witness;" /Т., Yankee Palmer was careful to :áróid our \ hero as much > as possible after - the "accusation which had been made against'hirri,A and not á word was exchanged betweerutheni afterwards until after the vessel had 'dçmble'd Cape Horn. Some d¿miáges; had been sustained in round- ing that" stormy point, which made it necessary to put}mtoÄlontc Video for repairs, and the. vessel was tacking to enter the Itio Plata, when Tom Lesterj and the American again came into collision,;^ С It was-a dark night, and the wind was blowing пеййу Wgaleirto 'tHäsontli/; v:;V:>>. Tom was walking "quickly rrp:.a;ridcdown the He had paused'to look' at / a; ship /wtàclrwas steaming into the broad; estuary >ât; itSe/'saine time, when a block descended from aboyé where he stood with such suddenness and.rapidfty*that it must have struck him violently on Jthé -head," and perhaps deprived him of life, but 'for the hurried warning given him by one of the crew. He sprang aside, barely avoiding the block, and, looking upward, saw the sallow and ill- favoured countenance of Yankee Palmer looking down upon him from the fore-topsail yard. "I бее i you, Jack Palmer I" hp exclaimed, shaking, his fist Menacingly'*at the American. "You 'will' now have a charge of attempted murder to meet when we reach Monte Video.*" Palmer growled something that was inaudible amidst the flapping p'f the sails, and disappeared. "That was done-purposely Г exclaimed our hero, turning to the sailor who had given him the warning. "It looked very much like it, sir," said the man, shaking his head. Tom then entered the cabin^d&crrhming to keep a sharp eye upon the American during the remainder of the voyage. CHAPTER XL. A KAT in the hold. Tom had retired to his berth soon after leaving the deck, but the recollection of the incident of the falling block,'and the expression of fiendish malignity which Yankee Palmer's countenance had worn as the villain looked down at him from the fore-topsail yard, haunted his mind and banished, sleep. After turning over two or three times, he turned,,out, dressèd himself* and went upon deck. "Youbayea dark night for your watch, Mr. Barnett," he ■ observed, to the second officer. « Will you take, a .cigar?" «'*'Thant yóü,*»"sáid,Bamett,,as he tpo"k the proffered luxury,,andïighted a match to ignite it, "Yes, it is a roughisk night," he added, ex- haling a puff of blue smoke; "and though the Plata is sd; wide that you cannot perceive that you have left the sea, it is so full of shoals and sandbanks that we are obliged to feel our way cautiously.*' "I hope that infernal Yankee isnot at the wheel," observed our hero, as he lit à cigar. *< Johnson ?" said the mate. . "No, he is not steering. Confound him, I do not know what he is doing," he added, looking around. "For- ward, there*! What is Johnson about? The fellow is all over the ship to-night." "He is in the hold, sir," replied a seaman, coming aft. "Call him up, then.l": exclaimed the mate, sharply. "What does'the -fellow ¿mean by, all this skulking?" What business"has he in- the hold at all ?" . . л ,. ;/' i . . '. "Beg pardon, sir," said Palmer, as .his head appeared in a few moments above the hatchway. "I was only baiting *a-trap to catch that whop- ping big rat we'saw^in-the hold the other day. "Come up," returned Barnett, sternly, " and do not leave"*the deck again without orders, or,I will report you to'.Captain Waring." :лiThe^'American)went forward, and the mate turned to Tom*Lester.* ':' / * *'; at;th'e moment when his operations were so opportunely interrupted, by Bamett and our hero.'/* . ¡The bales of wool which^had obstructed their passage had been piled*there by Palmer with .the double object of screening his light and preventing the sound of the saw from reaching the ears of the watch on deck. Having, satisfied himself that no danger was» to'be -appreheuded, the mate returned to Hhe deck,'and reported accordingly"tóihc^aptaln, who ordered the ' carpenter to be called up\to repair the damage at oricer:. . . , ,t}tJ\ _ -The boat was, in the meantime,* cleaning the "dark4waves of the IUo Plata in pursuit'of Yankee Pàlmér.... "jv: ::, ; ^,; ,:_ ~r rlf the. rowers could only keep ';him in sight, 'they-must an*évifaïbly-'overtakehim , as ?the im- rnence".width"of the. estuary made.it hopeless "for the swimmer to Téach the bank, and :he must in -timebecome exhausted-ifc the effort. '**5 . . ; ^,'Palmeras hope of escape, * if he reallyjhad-any, must have rested upon-the" «France of Teaching some sandbank, where" the shallowness of the water would allow him to rest, and to elude the vigilance of his pursuers by means of the dark- ness. That he might escape hiq pursuers,;was feasible enough j.'bu't \yhcther he. wputd. be fortunate, chough'to escape drowning was another matter, Wheu the boat^put pff :hp ■ was invisible ; Ibut the m6h pulled hard in 'the direction' in 4which he had been seen, and in, a'few rnija'^tek caught sight of his head as'it bobbed up. and. down in the ceaselessly^ rolling waves. Every time he rose Palmer looked around for the usual indications of shallow water, but he saw none near—the darknëss was all around and the boat gained iipon him at every stroke of the oars. t, . ■ - . , / л "You may as well give in, t Johnson I "л^ length reached his ears, from thé boat ;* and he began to be of the same opinionv, His exertions gradually relaxcd^and^iri-a few moments, the boat dashed up toJhim,, and he washaulo'd in, almost exhausted, with'His ^ejs? perate eífbrts. ( 'Then the boat's head'was turned round, and the men .pulled bact to the ship. 'f í ;' 0 They had rowed some distance before a woro^ was spoken. ...... \ "I guess I phall get*it hot f or tiiis job,*/ Palmer at length "remarked. \^ "AYhyijWhat.game have you been, up 'to 7" in- quired one. of his elupmates, . / , '« What, do, not you know V*. said he,' , ,*«. "No; there wasn*t time to hear anytbing,V ;edfthe sailor. ( ч. _ "'Ah, then I shan't* tell you,*'* rejóined'Pjlmer) and he relapsed'into silence. . *, , • Captain AVaring, with, our hero, and,tlie second mate, were anxiously awaiting the ."return of ?tHc boat. '-t ,. , â 44 They have got the. villain^ex'daimed the captain, as soon,as the forms of/.the/тсплп the boat could be discerned in the darkness^ "Ho shall go to England in irons, and I,hppc be will get his deserts at the Old. Bailey." "If he does he will; be' hanged" rejoined Tom Lester. "I thought lie would die a drier death than 'drowning, when I found he had escaped that end in Melbourne harbour,'* *' í'-U'/л íiU'okTU) 1A í-:MMi AT ЦП! í;k: TAL IM,; AN.' tííi; ADVENTURES OF A BRAVE BOY IN ¡¿ÜAUCH OF HIS f ATÍJEIL 1ПЛЛАМ nKN-ON ui*rr^]y 7.<«U< d j í¡L« aeomieseenee,, ar.d they apdn j proe^-d» d in ч!еис<"; but íbeyoiioe;1 lad noîd-ed thai his eoiiiparbon'* lips moved, mid that Ibv muselés of! Iiis faee worked, in spde <»f bis marven*ms nevesv b». oentrol bug bis emotions, ami Mh'n he imafd Dixon яшппмг to Mms"if, in an ahm-^ ímuídbde \*Wee, уи ,n aérants, evident ly íntu;d;í with índes<"río,ode a,nxi< ty аш! anejoMi of xuií—- 11 Oh» it difieren! tribe -proving íh/< .strength <>f the nnîted body of warriors whom they led — ami they were oí aî! ages, i i'яп the greydTaired saeheaí to the you li- bra v.' of twenty-two or tweuíy-thive years <»f IVy scowled at 1 Iki white nvn astbebtifor marie their, ítppeaninee,and tj^twit h-iandine* tin* «ogugemeo? «hat both parties «hmbd suret to pailoy, unarmed, they dbl nut cVíI'í nHenspf to conceal lue handles of the t< nnuhawk-. iind the butNends <-f the poioh thai protruded from beneath tk< i г ganmmt «. This looked threat,I ni;, asid» in fuel, the Indian*, obited with previ.m- sueoeso-s ;ш<1 SXJÔfnîîîg îhe pulUXï'Hit-ry ко fropu'fifly exhibited by the Creuies, beiiev« d, notwithstanding the strength 'f Use parly now hebere the town, that they <:oüld carry t-inii^s with a high head. They had only oonsente-l U> the parley to gain time, and e,mVose thrir \varr:< rs. take» as th,«-y were hy .M;rpTÍ:-e, {<-iin. d deli- beratidy ere they passed the pipe from one. to ano! her. il г И il it atJrnpdh Veaehed the white нищ. Ihene latter made sijorh work of it, and when at last it wa,s laid aside, Dixon again Hprang to bin fee*, und addressing the obleM eln'ef, said, in the Ii curative îa?*; Linage used by the, Indians— H \iy nul fatler. wo h uve been informed, has broiijrhr many fair crt]!îi ve rnaidens to HI 1'aso. Is it truth that we have heard. Г u The while ehh-f has beard th'v irtiib/" m- tunieci t'ne aired savaire. *' IkU \v«,îdoiiht wiietíier he has it in lbs power to pay the ransom we demand. We have sent swift müssenjr^-s ío Santa Fe, If the while, ehiei wi^ies \ve!l to the captive miiiduiib and squaws, he will withdraw Îïjk party and await the return e'd, !e'xon, «* Vvin-the,r at:inn*,r lj¡e; e;tpi iveS T h:ir reaeh. My bo-îi-.ers' tp«dminy to id-; roue pan i on >) *k Inive :dso friends and kindred whom they have itei, nul fot whose ransom they wiH ¡ giadîy pay a irreal priée, i hit first tidl me, have i yen with y»ut as 1 have imard, the íuaiden oí ; whom T have1 spoken ?*' ; 41 We have with as a bbte-eyed, fairdiaired : maideti, who was captured from КI ihü»ot and , who Lu- long dwelt with my tribe/1 replied iho ! old ehief, who seemed h ad hied to ii.sbm to the ; pfîncefwl pi'ojiosaf.s of Dixon, ! lh¡; a yf had betrayeii syni|dotes of scorn and im* j puiienee. sndoenly sprang to his feet, and eried, ; w ::h h seornfnî ^e.eer— '** What idh" words the white chief tttter« Î ! It is easy for the aatebpe. to say to the woi£t Î ' Let ib be at peaoe ;* but doe.s the woif hearken fo \hn cry" a ¡H for ns to say, h*t tlmre be I peace or war. An, to the maiden of whom my ï brother speaks, î tell him she- is my captive, and i she shad, enter my wigwam, or i And drawintr íc?r!h his tomalntwk, as if lie \ meant to show Unit b- «h^pised the* stipnlntions I of the t nim. he swune; it roun.i, and made a ¡ motion as if burying it in the skuil of a victim, j 41 Why sdnmld I, the sun of a, great nhM, await 1 the whims of a sopieatnisb, paled'aeed maiden!" \ h** went on. "Too kmg have I tarried. She J ^iall be my wife., or her ymlow hair shall frinece î my moeeiissins. (jo to. I have said tids truce is j foihn My ie-оГпог isas heard my woi'ds.'' ! And, sîiîl reniai ni ti |ir erectile ¡::%yíí vent toa * lone! iautrove to restrain his pas don ; but whefi he j heard the t,iise((rdantt derisive bee;h with w>dch I the youo!i chi'^f concluded ids speech, he replied, î wiiii biting í i 378 [June 1,1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. ** I myself would strike my dagger into the maiden's heart, ere I would see her the wife of such as he who has just spoken." The eyes of the young chief seemed to flash fire, and, without a word, he swung his toma- hawk over bis shoulders, and flung it with all his force at Dixon's head. The weapon barely missed its aim. It actually grazed the skull of the intended victim, and lodged deep in the timber, just above his head.^ Dixon retorted by firing- one^barrel of his revolver at the brutal assassin. r The Vball took effect, and the young* chief fell dead," or des- perately wounded, to the earth. Instantaneously all present sprang to their feet. The truce was at an end I - Knives*and hatchets gleamed/and pistol shots were fired in every direction, amidst the savage yells pi the Indians, and the deep execrations of the white men. Dixon's party, who had heard the report of his pistol, rushed to the rescue in a body, and were met by a large body of Indians, who had also been anticipating such a termination. À few, on either side, forced their way into the mill to assist their chiefs and leaders ; but the pine-torch which had been kindled to give light to the assembly, had been knocked .down at the commencement of the affray, and trampled' upon and extinguished. / - ,; In the fury of the combat, sorne of those who had last entered the mill had lieen driven ;back, against the half opened door, " which had thus been closed, while the eager combatants, un- aware of the fact that they were preventing the ingress?of their comrades,^continued ,*£he fights with their backs set firmly^against'it;*' No inore could enter the mill. „' .The two. large parties/*without, fought by thè liJjhUof^-thc' stars and the waning ;:mobn,* and those ywithin continued the conflict in utter darkriess, unable, save by their voices, or by the rapidly succeeding, though fitful flashes from the pistols, to distinguish friends from foes. Without, the two large bodies of combatants surged to and fro, each party uttering loud shouts and yells of encouragement or defiance, as they advanced or receded, as each, tem- porarily-obtained an5 advantage, or was driven back. But the cries of defiance which had been raised by those within the mill, at the beginning of the affray; had now ceased. 1 * < , Both parties were too terribly in earliest to cry out, arid nothing was audible save?the clash of steel, the sharp reports of Revolvers, and occa- sionally a-loud shriek of-pain, as one or another fell to the earthen floor, desperately wounded, tb be trodden' beneath the feet of the survivors. At the commencement,the white men had had the advantage,'for though- some of the Indians carried pistols, none had revolvers, und the rapid fire 'of the white men thinned the number of I their enemies. . j But soon' the shots were all expended, and 1 knives-and hatchets were brought into play. With these weapons the Indians had the advantage; their deadly tomahawks were more formidable than the knife, and several-of the white men fellbencath them. Beforer-the door became closed, some twenty Indians1, and:about the same immbef of white men, had forced their way into the mill, and the* combataritsirtumbered some fifty'on .botte sides. In less than a/quarter of ian hour there ivas not one of these 'who remained unscathed? several had been: slain, otticrs were slightly hurt; manyj severely wbunded,' and the combat écased because there were none in' a condition to continuent. 1 '' 1 Outside, after much bloodshed and slaughter, the Indians had been driven back. They had been pursued into the town by tho white men, and had, at length, been compelled to take shelter in the forest beyond, whither it was alike useless and unsafe 'to1 continue the pursuit. The; victors now returned to look áf ter their wounded and dead companions, while some among-them, reducing' themselves s to- the level ob the ignorant savages, engaged in the' brutal work of scalping the dead and wounded Indians, for the sake of the government reward. Young Benson had behaved most gallantly. With a degree of coolness and presence of mind rarely found in one of his years, he had followed the advice given Him by Dixon, and had waited until he could take good aim by the flashes from the rapidly discharged pistols. Twice he had saved the life of' Dixon, who, as the supposed chief of the white men, was the especial mark of the Indians; oiíce by shooting down a:gaunt savage, whose tomahawk, in another moment, would have cloven his friend's skull, and once by diverting, by a blow from the butt-end of his revolver, the aim of an Indian who had pointed his pistol within twelve inches of Dixon's forehead, and up to that moment he had remained unharmed. At last, however, he was stunned by a blow from the. tomahawk of one of the savages, who would have cleft his skull had he not been struck by â shot at the moment when he had raised his deadly weapon over the boy's head. The tomahawk fell from the nerveless grasp of the savage as he fell backwards to the earth, and the flat of the weapon^ striking Benson's head heavily, deprived him, during the rest of the fight, of his senses. „ .. When, at length, the vdoor was opened, four Indians, who had feigned death in order to save their lives, sprang to their feet, and, snatching: up a dead or wounded comrade, rushed from the "mill, and succeeded in effecting their escape amid the darkness of the. n'ight. -A-light was "then procured,*, and a search-was made for the wounded white ñlen. С ~ './<■ Arthur Dixon.was soon found, lying bleeding, and senseles3 from a blow which had -.cWôpeÏL bis temple just above the eye, inflicting an iigly-' looking, but, nót a deep or dangerous,1 gäsft: Dubois and Jolmson-were also sharply-tfotttided;" : <0l Dixon's chosen friends, one rabne, poor Parker, was slain. A pistol bullet had passed cleán through .his heart. Of the* rest of the white men,* seven were found to be dead, and one fatally wounded. The others had escaped with comparatively slight hurts. Of the Indians eleven were dead. The re- mainder were,' -more'or less, severely wounded. These were, however, immediately* slain and scalped. Dixon was borne to a cabin near by, where his wound was dressed by one of the hunters. In a few minutes he recovered his conscious- ness, and opened his eyes. "I hâve been- wounded," he murmured, raising his band to his forehead. "Ay, capting," replied the old hunter, who had just dressed the wound; "but 'tain't nothin'—-a mere scratch, tho' it did look 'tarnally ugly at fust. You'll be all right enow to-mprrer; but you must lay quiöt to-night, and try to sleep." "The Indians?" murmured Dixori., "The warmints tiev cut and run, them on 'em as arn't lost the number o' thur mess, which air a pooty lot on 'em. But I reckon heow they'll be back to-morrer, or next day, wi' reinforce- ments, fur they say heow the blasted critters air çput-щ the woods es thick es dry leaves in the fall o1 the year." "The captives—the females they brought with them to Ei-Paso?" "Gapting, ycr rhustnrt talk, else yer'll play old gooseberry wi' yer wound. Yer mustn't indeed. Es tew the wimmen critters, they air all safe' eñow, *cept them es some o' the chaps—the Creoles I mean—hev kinder recónized, and hev carr'd 'em off wi' 'em, cryin' and larfm' like mad; and the wimmen faintin' ded away in thar arms." I "Büt> there was one, a young ^woman-still— "Neow do'ee jist be quiet, capting, will 'ееT I know what yer mean. - I hev heerd the fellars talkin' beout it. Waal, she wur ân old sweet- heart o' yourn. * She air safe, capting, she air, so jist you make yerself easy. I swar cs she air safe. Mr. Dubois, who ain't much hurt, seen arter her for yer. He kinder reconized her, he did, and he've made her all snug: and comfor'ble for the night. So you jist ¡be easy on that ere p'int, capting. To-night yer can't see her, but yer will in the mornin'." "Thank Godt thank God!" fervently ex- claimed the wounded man, tears of joy and gratitude springing to his eyes, despite his efforts to restrain them. "Old man," ho pre- sently added, ** I must—I will see her to-ni.^ht." "Tell 'ее deownright ye can't, capting,'* testily replied the old hunter. •* You'll be right enow in the mornin', but I wouldn't gin much, for yer life ef yer wor to go eout neow inter the cold night air, I wouldn't." And Dixon, who had partially raised himself on his couch, discovered that he really . was too weak from loss of blood to attempt to'goVto^ the town in his present condition. S; v**. He fell back, and resigned himself as patiently as he could to a ..delay that he felt fo .be\un- avoidable; but his. lips'moved for some time^as it were in secret prayer and thanksgiving. He was, at length, .dozing off to sleep when he once.more aroused himself. ";i "Selfish brute that I am," he muttered, "I have thought of myself'; alone. 'Old^mafy Mr- Dubois, you say, is- but slightly hurt.. VBut the rest of my friends'?" -; д> "Neow, at it- agin," growled the old hunttpy who appeared to have constituted himself the captain's nurse. Yer won't lay quiet. Waal, I have done all I;kin for yet*. If yer wull,talk like a old woman^'taint my fault if ycrcroaks— that's all.'/ / ;f, , "'01d:man, my friends, who risked their lives to serve me-rl must, know how tliey атс.ч,Те11 me.,-Then J will try (and compose myself to sleep;".' J -i'^. Д'^ '■' 1 .'^X' -. * "Waàlj vthen, ,Mrï Dubois I hev told yerVon. ilr. Johnson ain't, hurt none to speak on ;'but I?hearn say heow Mr; Pàrker had streáked it. {He vvas föund\shot, right through thé heart— Ъе>'ог;" • ' <ç w C"God of Heaven 1" Poor—poor Parker," ^ex- Claimed the wounded man; "but there is yet another," he added, anxiously—" a young lad— young Benson—William Benson, where is he?"" "Benson—William Benson," muttered the old hunter; * "Don't know any one o' that name, I don't. Didn't see any young lad, and I wor the* fust as entered the mill arter the scrimmage, I wor. Lor saikes! neow I ^hink on't, I shouldn't wonder ef 'twor him as the Injins carr'd off. Some said heow 'twor the young chief; but I ceounted tho hull o' the six varmiuts es camelo the truce, and I seen 'emull dead, I did. Is\vóre es twarn't no young- chief as they tuk "wi' 'em. 'Twer him you speak onj-I bet a dollar, neow!" In spite of the old "man's'earnest remon- strances, Arthur Pixon insisted upon heannçaljt he knew respecting the escape: of -|Ы fová- Indians, and when the old hunter hadtold/tft'd story, there remained little doubt in hisXDixon's^ mind, that his young friend, William /Benson, haji indeed been carried off by tho reärskihs^li He grieved sorely. Still he experienced one feeling,of satisfaction withal.. , . , ,L - The bravo boy, he felt assured, was stilljiving* Moreover, he had little fear that the youth would be ill used. Rarely did the Indians ill-treat a, person whom they carried off. It was probably, their intention, for some object of their own, to adopt the lad into their tribe. (i Dixon, however, resolved, at whatever cost or hazard, to recapture the boy. But he-also felt so much confidence in Benson's own courage and resources that he believed that he would^ ere long, by some means or other, >' effdet his. escape. v. . ■ • í • - For some time he lay back' on rlris couc&i revolving in his'mind the various evènts bf !the> day. He felt tbat ho had causé- alikè for intenso- gratitude, for lively satisfaction, and for deep- sorrow. . . . :• 'r ::/ It seemed scarcely possible that he had indeed recovered her who had well-nigh Ъееп his r,bnde^ and who-had been so ruthlessly snatched rfrom !him, and lost to him for ¡so many years*'*a9fvnö hâd latterly thought, for ever! It-was too'great happiness! '■' _ It i appeared almost incredible, as thougte it were after all but a feverish dream 1 At. length", .however, ho; began >to feel the effects of the-fatigues ofithe dày, and offtlíó loss Of blood he had sustained; 'and from a half dreamy state he droppdd off into ä sound sleep;* Jone 1, isro.] 379 BOYS OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER VIL A ÜKT7NION. AS it was expected that the Indians would be reinforced and make an attempt to recapture the town, it was deemed advisable to remove the rescued females as speedily as possible from El Paso. And the next morning Dixon and others, though still weak from the effect of their wounds, rose from their rough couches to attend to their duties. The females whom the Indians had brought to El Paso were too old at the time of their capture to forget the friends and relatives from whom tliey had been torn, and to assimi- late themselves to the habits and customs of savage life, and had thus become so many en-1 cumbrances to their captors, hence.the desire to part with them for heavy ransom. They were ten in number, and all but one had already been recognized and carried away by joyous relatives or friends. This one was Mary Jefferson. She also had been recognized, as the old hunter had said, by Mr. Dubois, who had seen her comfortably be- - stowed for the night, and assured her of the safety of her lover. At daylight, in the morning Mary Jefferson had already risen and was seated at the window of her room, anxiously awaiting the appearance of Arthur Dixon. The sevèn or eight years that had passed over her head since the time of her capture had rob- bed her of her girlish freshness, but had rather added to than impaired her beauty. She was pale, and thin, and there was an ex- pression of earnesfcáess and thoughtful melan- choly, in her features which enhanced their, loveliness and gave:her the appearance of one of BaffaeVs Madonnas. She was now in^her twenty-seventh year, and her's had been a grange history since the period when she had been carried off by the Indians. Her youth and beauty had secured her good treatment, and had attracted the attention of the young warriors. This admiration had, however, awakened feel- ings of jealousy among the young women of the tribe, who might have> dono her serious injury- had it not been tor the .protection accorded to^ her .from,.the first*by.thcFaged chief, who,*'when he found that she-refused to listen to the per- suasions of many of the young warriors, had adopted her as his daughter, and gave out that she had. beenj iorbidden to marry by the great spirit of the red men, who had sent her to them to reign as a queen, over them. From that period her persecutions ceased, and they1 regarded her with feelings of superstitious reverence. . Could she have forgotten her kindred and country, and assimilated herself to the habits and customs of the savages, she might have been happy. This, however, was, of course, impossible. * Her days .passed away in anxious misery. She had frequently thought of escape; but soon found that that washn impossibility. She was too keenly watched. This life she led until. about three months previous to her release/ The old: chief' died, and for ü - few; weeks she reigned queen, and sole sovereign of the tribes Then ai war broke out with a hostile 'tribe of Indians. :The latter were thd victors; many- of the warriors and young men* oí tho -van^uishèd tribe were ruthlessly butchered, .and many "of the women—herself among the rest—were carried bfï>' ¡~ - She fell to the lot of i the young chief whö had commenced the affray in-the ïuined mill, and who had fallen by Dixon's first shot. • At first'^e had-;behaved kindly to her, 'and had wished* her to become his' wife j bu|, finding her persistently deaf to his persuasions and entreaties, he compelled her to perform the duties of a servant, gather and chop wood for the fire, cook the food, he required* and wait upon his newly-married1 squaw. The hard and incessant labour to which she was now subjected, would probably have caused her death, but at this period, fortunately, as it happened for her, the various tribes made up their own private quarrels in order .to commence a raid into the Mexican settlements, and con- ceived the idea of carrying with them those refractory female captives who refused to amalgamate with them, and endeavour to obtain heavy ransoms for them from Santa F6. The result of this raid so far the reader has seen, and Mary Jefferson, who had long given up all hope of deliverance from captivity, was now awaiting the appearance of her 'betrothed husband. He came ; and Arthur Dixon and Mary Jeffer- son met -again, after years of enforced separa- tion, still young in years, and still true to their early love. They threw themselves into each other's arms, and for several minutes were unable to speak a word. * * * * * Some hours sped swiftly past ere the lovers had so far composed their feelings and subdued! their emotions as to be able to think of others! besides themselves, to remember that they were not the only beings the world contained. Arthur Dixon recalled to mind the death of his long-tried friend, Parker, and the supposed captivity of his young friend, William Benson. He spoke of the boy to Mary, "You, too, would love him, dear Mary, if you knew him," he said; "the generous, gallant lad. I was struck with him the moment I saw him, and afterwards, he strangely attracted me to- wards him. I love him," as I.could love a younger brother." *: "How old:;is he, then, Arthur?'* inquired Mary, whose head was leaning upon Dixon's shoulder, and whose right hand was fondly clasped in his¿ *' But seventeen. Though he is such a fine, manly looking fellow, that you would suppose him to bclwo years older.1' "Poor boy l'\sighed -Mary. "Do you think, Aithur, that he was severely wounded?" "I hope not, though *T;fear that he may be. He fought lilce a young lion ;"and once, certainly, I owed my life to his promptitude 'ih^thrbwing aside" thç arm of a savage, whose tomahawk would thé next, moment have cleft у, aro' not in great force, will return ás sooft as' they can reinforce themselves after the defeat of last" night? ... ;;, , "I expected that they would return last rjjglit, Úáry; but this morning I Have heard that they are in full retreat homewards. They are unused to' defeat at tke; hands of the .Mexican Creoles, arid it* staggered teem when they discovered that there w.erc Americans opposed to them. 1 have learnt, £oo, that by so me, m cans the people pi St. Louis obtained intelligence of the anticipated raid,' and sent out a body, of soldiers to the aid of the traders whom they might meet. The party from whom, I learnt that the Indians had pillaged El Paso, met the soldiers advancing нЬоиь two, hours afterwards, and returned, with them.' But now, Mary, I must sec about this^poor boy. ' As soon as I have seen you to a place of safety, I must find out to what tribe the Indians who have carried him off belong, and I must rescue* him from «their clutches—cost what jiti may." "It is doubtless your duty," replied Mary "but still, dear Arthur* you will be careful of yourself for my sake." Mary Jefferson was temporarily lodged in the- house of a merchant who had escaped from El Paso, with his wife and family,t before the Indians attacked the town, and wnó liad now returned, and was delighted to find fliát his* house was one of the very few that had not been pillaged. The next day poor Parker was buried, and. then Dubois and Johnson set forth for the plains of Beverdu, where they, expected to find the j re-united caravan, with full instructions from I Dixon how to act with respect to his own merchandise and that of William Bensob, when they should reach Santa Fé. It was Dixon's opinion that the Indians, who- had believed him to be a chief among the American pale-f arcs, had remarked that William Benson fought by his side, and had imagined the lad to be his brother; and had thus carried him off in the expectation of being able to se- cure to themselves,a heavy ransom for their youthful captive. The" worst that he*dreaded was that—as sometimes was tho case with the savages—they shpuld cqneeive a fancy to retain him, and adopt him into their .tribe. , He did not fear that the boy would voluntarily permit himself to be thus adopted, but he knew that when such was the intention of the- Indians, it , was their custom to guard him so* watchfully, that whatever may be his courage, it was out of his power to make his escape from, them. But his endeavours to discover tho tribe to which the four Indians belonged were futile, i Some averred that the Indians were Navajos^ others thnt they were Apaches, ^ others' again that they were Sioux, and some they were. Blackfoots. . ,; So after ten days* useless - sojourn at El Pasoy¿ Arthur Dixon resqlyed to rejoin, the carava:.;*?- and proceed with'ic to Santa Fu, believing thai; 4 it .would bo his wiser course for the present ten serve his young friend's interests by looking4 after his merchandise; and that he could cdn- tinue his researches subsequently from Santa Fér quite as well as he could from El Paso. . . Á party of travellera were ■ about < to proceed; from El Paso to Santa F6,t arid .Arthur Dixôn joined the party, after, having purchased a couple^ of mustangs—one, for* himself, and one that had; been properly trained for Mary Jefferson.* < Fortunately, there were three or four ladies, belonging to the party, so that the !opportunity Ayas an excellent one for Miss. Jcffersop, who* would have the society of persôns of her own sex* during the journey; and on the eleventh day* from that of the affray with the: Indians, the little cavalcade; sei forth. (! For five days they journeyed onwards, meeting? with no. adventure worth recording- They were travelling along , the Jbase of thb; Mumbró Mountains; thrpugh tho - wild passes of: which the separate divisions, of theícaraván had pursued their routes, when**.shortly after theyr had struck their tents on* tho sixth morning of 1 their journey, they discovered two strange, un-i cputh-lepking objects approaching, towards them- in the distance. It was some time before. they could satisfy themselves, whether the objects were human* beings.priwild animals. . ... At length, however, they discovered that thejr were human beings, mounted upon mustangs, but )it, still jemained to be seen whether they; were white men or Indians. >: On, a nearer approach, however, they fancied that;one, who had suddenly spurred his horso- tpwards them, was, a white man. Bqthwonra: sort of hybrid costume, between that of :a hunter and a savage. 4 But the astonishment and delight o'f,-Arthur Dixon may.be better; imagined ,than described when the foremost rider hailed the cavalcade in English..... ... : ;л (To be continued. Commenced In No. 179.) SOME parts of Hussia'are represented as Very fer- tile. We should imagine that th о colder parts of" that country must be very/wr-tile indeed. BOYS OF ENGLAND. Till STORIES OF BOYISH BRAVERY у it, xn. — snt chaules t'UNMTKÍMU Ob S fv'ï nil I '■ w a« the truly grea Na' known admiral name, and with At Hi'-' т\ч\\ .villi bïit. lbno;> : bold lao men with a г»* fl* f » ' ' Í J' b-aoO- tieitl. « И a< Г Vieron'',-*! that f b<: Waboía pS'i/VMM Кпеа-nb. Nn¡ber w.-o. appíaida, 'he bad Mil ];1)г;Н»ч1, f'irm-'Tîts "f barbarism \vh ich he bad e m p I < >y< Tb>," law,- wero re :yran;*< il. an of; polirc was rpîahîjshed, ^гн меак a* î! г mar ji,r <-f wmnen lin* nbi.Hary b'jiun- <)f land, w Tb-' lío ab1*, tr aba* waa } •bave naa bb' ":;i;s4Í, щи! Ьа- И •!■ ,(„•!/<•.► ontbr wíu* tatiH**| ни.» :i peart-ful civ: Чип. '.'imiii'i Kpbf v.ifmt: bdo teaw 1if«% made 11 « ■ г prhmipal .4 al К 'í гп, .i •', п ил ми; - a b « с neoî ¡ aoe/< ее Ituhaa <:b i"-. An 1 tlx1 wlede pruvbea mmv !ban a, hunt UK' Jmvsí na- da eime in a b-wyoars a vobbewb « va:< in<; with rb'b harwsts and eabven 1 raiíUH V î i i * ; tr* s. Il, is not to be wondered al îbai t у bî* briber Wïbbairi, waaeb wr wnn.ily ro^-maamnd и, da* porsuai ul all our readers. To the ynuihfud wodka екроезаПу н к th- l»«-t sif all bonds ..if ни Inn niabf, oxaiupie îbai еоц] possibly be piaeed in bis bands, Л* aVbbd. Na-a'ar wan, detaaiv and tima b-UVb iilKi ídK l'Kfíl'Ch, b»í!<, р'ПеЫ'у líUd П b'-e'b <>f gn-ai я«'s.s. Tims, when only t«in y«\-tvs of arjç, he p-iob'i'd p« íbíd Ihi wuh ^fiorf-síi'!'^"*!, b<4%4a>f» a- poitî'îiît < f í'Vebfi'bik !¡ir nib;d I wire i-iic-iyvd, and iba:, î hi", ryoa <<( Л Icxaud'T tîa* Great w*fT(; of different colours. i Whíii hi; was only six year* <-ab a w¡md< tí in/ •■ HÎtowaïab, a wibidookutg »Toatuiv, sburi, of; stíU?H-o bat hw:j; of limb, half !'.akcí f íbí faniíly Хаи'кт j v/!an'" Chat ios bpiab bi-s boy]и,od.* His father, also a воЬ'Ьт, bo1,i it bbrh M.-iit appoibitm-'Ut" iii tla1 I;b-b Or!abb;.')h'iïrfib Л tTtíwd of pooplo jaibero.',!, anb, aftor 5011м1. lîbiîJ'M' (bsjbsayH, |Jh> паш, balanf-iri^ a bidbor <'!i. bis <'Íií;í, barbel nr, labi'-r, wbb rn> rotom;;' tuucx üfti'Tod а н\\~щ, inuüiit and sit oxt the 144?. but Ни* b у ftbruhk in f'-ar from the, *b«»ui- iiiua :.-da: "¡" "inv, Uoiuttci Xapiur a,.4kod his little son ÍÍ he would Vordaro. Ho n'a- míoüt for a morra iitt hut then, lookup i>'pT >aid. 4 \ a,îfc| wa,< buna- aloft amidst t-ho o.ho»as oí î.la- ^p<>ríatorH, Four уо.пгч la!* r, bavsbîi: <-aí¡rbií, a Ibb vAv-n :mrJ'mi% bo was >игрЬо;Ь by iho üoscrfít, of a ha'îf-tanv-b i*îio]ti of iT**at him and fieroone^, wibf'b, ib-atina' bo\v?¡ from a tok", soîtbd ajiou hb-í f'tKrUidí'i.s * ' vori d bim u,:b¡ *k huj."1, dark wií-w, anal took the fnba ]b*r, >îrunp«Tf ain,î плач: 44 Ali líiai day and ni^iil v,>ao M Marnoy'g pretty '-v«'s tw'foro inino, but, not noÍL and talo- tolbn^—г.-a, *-a}io^ 4 i''b;, \\ il) уоц marry то Ь but horrowíiíby ^pbnííu^ ai ту »дато î'»o, ТЬю wa> M s?»- arnov, and tbf.-г** wuh I aaablo 'to d.i a!,;,b!0!t;: bot ia.p, ,i "Tli'.' ¡U,r /'o/o'/u' Woi'f Î,W<> ibdbiabra,: Ьо and bar í.aand, M: Vandoîour, oana: in tia^ba-k wrapi ad up in lij'aib fjra.if <*oa; n, lo «'ab «a, naa. *k 'i his wa.r» )ii-* bko líío píiiok oda praíty Irífli i íjníío repaid tiiV ooara^áona ra-oives» So. Sa Vi i: Я, Vofl!»g t 'bairb'^ W'.í1' üaui'' t Ja* '"оПНПапЬсГ, A t r- t « "* paHy oí 5 ií" b« y/au* in laveur <4' John • ^".rl, : 1 would íjava Ьгик"п ab ту '¡«.na* for îaaa i af!oi; i«*íiíaur ine к i f-s tina:' hand-, oil a«y lair i of Ii «'ant. baiTÏîi^' ню lin- happn-ai oí íajao ¡¡rlií paov-b with a ííoota.a*.*-' <,*ооЬп1<; i ^ queer fe dt>vb ;m| dtídc»', WÍ!U !cam«'TÍ than < 'h a rit Ui-, was iba bast !Í;j;!jf er, th»: »und, й«ч%<>трН«1:и1 J íaríi^aba in silí games and июггаа^ег a gênerons рго«м'*1суг i t\,,р». of îlta woak apaÏFihT lis--, dra>n;.r. f Tin4! But lai wan abso a wvU-judirir.^ la*l, ib"iain>nt the insta.nby Kiippras'-'d tao adtabon. avowing bin j baturo jmn inhaior* military kf.«»wíodp'. ami claimed only *♦ * Be quick,' «piotii 1, us iboy entered ; *шакс îla* botiauir of aarfyimr Па; oolour.v. íla» пюЛ of tay «niuratf^ wbilo it bi^H.' Tlscr»', wíih m the vicinity, aland two mii>-» ** jt t«.«ok all that that the h>£ waft straight \ ami 16 Tbo Si, Wab-bob? naii<> SÎ. »niraiad on the wak, wiboii oonid be an«ily -onlrd from the insidr, 1 ia-ayb г 0 ;î fr< ш îbaa r -ad. At first îh"y bialo'd with «"irioHÍíy. but then with anger, seofíbpr are] booiinp. Ma-atr; of <{K ii.*.::<"•"• w ro ivii¡n¡»d, and then tiie bill in régiment wah pelted. ТЬЬч wa« ij.reailyfci bdstdvatda^n И гседп- bled rht anîang'oiraan, of arm«*d tr^pb mublwti in a deîiie i >y an mad poa.>.ant.s. Tie" v<'hmi<>ers wa-ro »-alîad out- to sbTiii tla wall, bul biabr yav.vj/ oaptain st-aidy forbade them te* break their rankt', c/aiiiiuiiÍMir the march aîfbd v^i!"\.-ö of dirt. is now as ^1га*'д"п1 a <4a/f I íbutoi myself, an o\''T bo»ro ü¡> bao 'oo ebs are a iVw repr< vetativo trait.-' naaenavvS i-л X<». Л s old 'in« ida od toenail -'aid la- »" ,! b« bau- fba! (avMM.edo. daaj (äff, ba* i" Л i WMVinn.NT, and yat jin}»P-Vídetií Гь:,;;« bak.a': к- bn< ,ab iaaaln ba;, ;'«, ó* a-оа'Ч ;,,a;.' kaeams Lioa-iJn BOYS OF EX(iLANI). ЗЯ1 THE BOYS Of ЕЛШШ» ST03Y ТШ.ЕВ. íraak, I La/о а.аЬууг h ;t day tO this SUltor. "Woai 'Anted v/m do le pro; it Г "I would die for you!" "1 hope you would sot go •■"i'.»!-/.'; Lo. tn b«- l"r;i friendship to gwe yon." i Mr. Ward, somewhat conceited, and believing j Nrl'i«» to b" a Ih'Je- «sí :i о^еур-е oaly srmled. 'j "Why not?" he said, "Now, if I was such an! object as that," glancing towards Croon, i,ii the! waist, ©oiling a rope, 111 might believe you. But, | although I do say it, I'm not, as a nil iL i?;;/, 1 i'wkotî y,,n «;(Ь LeLy' <о у.- by y чс ♦«?••: Г* ) At this Mettle's silver laugh 'broke forth, and j away she went, darting merrily into the cabin, i Af'or 'ha' V"J <:>;*>■!>, O yfdî*"d « 'угОУ She <*ot!Íd! not but own to herself that lie was very plain, and I yet there was in his dark, deep-set eyes an expies* I sioTi that Ae liked. This she told her father,, the captain. ) "He's a good harfwoner,* said Warren., i! ^ that's The tiv.ti that van Ь<- яаМ of him. H**'-* vwh | Л«а un beh*» | arrival nf ih»* Aa'Lman.' \>h<¡:'{ o.iro fur him 1 don't think hü ear-',- f«.r { -Mr. M./h'«-.vorthy b Ы>- to-ni-hW observed j thonC1^ j Jáíuj.í e-moV' sn^oaMed FVrjrcard, fbrur«, a* ;t hí»!¡» w:is hoard '*» rUd oytbdo, TL» soîdbay however, '.гая r И was Mr, MoIe.sworihy'H :- villi a note to ?ay that h* •-■-"i ;■ enoacrh to c with them ay sin: tin.'t-r,;!!^. Afa-r (-«»:;." ill -cu,.'. be. * '■: schoolmaster, wa j voP-d tn id- »hair, . ..; tin: proo-f'dh; opened by '. ^ r ■". ■ Toa¡ HüW.i.;rV у"* л nur ro'aîiv а немала'; vary. Tb- % obey '/yedieeyoj oh- h lated the fobowh;^ story ттп: глт.т.тхо ч v "У bon#, Lu by ;tn<-1 SM'i'''!,y, • bb'' y yd LarnL , лгЛ an one * r< d ei л Lardon ov- г еч f.ttî ibd patate >;eyeo¡!. Сгоос, lie served u: aeumer, ehaa •:' n^'lWnff! L, !J'í< 'Vt'IíH'T'í , :-! ' " • Li'Li"-' üm::, X'-v^;-] !.i г *'< "»• лХ\. V -f»; Ii , / f ; ;î^î k-ü , knul, \?\'П:-.< ,t \ < ; ''Livalry, lu npiui of hu clumyv р;..,ч)г;- * h,4«í sct.;n bífis bhow <ч>г.,Ы>ч . :. ■ OÎM' 'I;IV 'Л In-li W>1 Wí'Г't a.-L*' ?f! iLr:ibLii'.;r ;v CL"шшкш î> V' • h'îbv»!" ^'ir!, н L" v.;si'i,ibî< uh,L. h ? m <r;th4' hr.und f. - ( ) ,t wL1 ilLl^r Vi .y ;¿','<\ f Г'ЧП'-U'St ui<-:t 'L-4í rnv (Lnü'i !.пч« with í;i«L' >L'itíl "»V;u> : . :L.- - - T:thi's daii^ht^r. ïo whom ьП"* ~ •••vi Mr» Ward, ]í,t»l for .-oni" t,i;n«- been t.;«;. ib--- Httf'lltSOÎîH, NrtíLí ит(Н '.'*'\*"пь.,5п, '.\ L?: .--у;: h Li.'',.- forin, oviil. pí<¡.'s:UíC fuí'". ,r- M-rn-?/i*<.',Hi iiuir/huîsel eyAs. an.i lhv¡y .{¡^.osiíiim. f "Which." $»аЫ, у»mi think wmiïd do tin: f How sshf woiîLî tons h< r Íío:h1 :mf voîî, w^uld bo too mr :пм1 manlv/' uf sihvr mío every o! »r! ол?н/? СГ-r-M't;! Ülitl U'.V.'iy tho.- ;op;;,d |,, h t . - ;d : •? IL.^äo; t»; tiff:", L. f.,*%1 fJi» y i" >• hio'.v-»;'. *• !1иг»,1-л-^!ч;'Ь«г1г«! Г" L*iwLmI «4d íLipLiíü Wíutvii, ih ïiiaL.1' ,"'(L. >wLo"n L;-/i Ь*-оп оДиу/с! »íowí¡, Lh'W ' '¡i, ;ib'.í fr. и î»

hïp n;:i«!«' t :"o».("¡'.d' • ■>, \n\>.\,*ly, : l nen lip o:uno, <:Vcí'ytr:ÍTí^ rutL»;/ Uli-; craokin^, throwiro^ г-» iî-l w.it-T , f ;oíu hor Ь«(,л'н а,л --h" !.;'HUi!od иЬ>г,\% wiîhiL*'^! -,ь!. (.f wii,d-ti ;-'])Г;1\- ílyin^ fo her very cruok,-! '* Uv<-!y thí;ro, !.vi^ — 'iv.Ly can:c Ьптф "ihf «niptain h 1гчшуД like til© er ц-к of a ,six-ро;1п<1«чу ;иь\ niiüLio i¡> * \v#to M'en il Art it!'j; uíofí, ThiTf* м«*!•»• ib»» íJí5-ky Portц'Л1<"'". the í- п*'Г ,'oüo Уапкс41, tLr hr*)wn citric sfi'Ktíi'jLiy i:. ího wítnl, «4oo,| пг'оп «Lí о;.}цг!ег-<1оок. iii-i ío¡-\v;u,4Í oí tho tío;o f-ií-i,.f, íK4o- íL'míií ,íím! \V:inlf who v/'oo Lu-'y bír.Lin;/tin- lurbo^rd boat, -Li'!«íf.oiy :i bu"<- sc., -лrLí,Lt;" tlio shíp? ,-.;i;í tLíihib-r .ч!'>ь;,; evory tiii»!>oi% í?owu ^titlli/í-!)) vf,í4c: ni; her Liaîîj í'iid-— tLofí -L" u.'i'U* л ;.hv\ yh;?y«v, 1 h»T« ч •«viy^ti;/ -o:n..L ;o-o ih-; |.trfh»o. fois on thi' murior-d'^'k ovi.r i\,.ff t'îiy'o-^iîîy.t her in a i*o|)\" лнпаи;ин'онл!у, VS'.itd ;m>l Í "r«'oîï >-prnii;.f {<■ !'• -¡'',i't>' a-, ;-ho, tliHod ;«.b>t,î oL:rphi;r hLL-' и bird. When h<4 saw her ;:o 1н4о%у he would walk rn«' deck with hIow, чЬтс1;т^ tT'dí ;ïml b»n/-d ht'ud. ,ч.ч if ;iw;yo of tbi'utror hopclc,-,-r<'W4 ,>f Li;- low f*.- í Lo Captain*;- tdn!d. Ile g rev melancholy, afn! ;о-:л^ Ids amx-th,-, In-came cv*-c шоп- yoyint uyd Icîuî than lie was ho fore. I knew what ailed* him. und cndioHy/e-md v.uhdy to cheer hhy, ** Hbc do'*î* not 'notice аде ;}f all," he paid, "any :i!ore tlb'Lîi if I wer»,' a 'tick of vy,/od." >o"i,"»- ,-aid no rrec-¡' ti-ei), L*o mv;;!oÎ î'» í'.io »L,tof ■л p-voruo l'Lnoîîy d¡e \<»v/j'í] !ip1} :md said, fr-erdd;, —- u Papa, î Lko t, Ь ; t í biyy rdinu.sy fooud* ;i lía. h;a ha L' lathed the ,4kippei', "Il; nane: i,-ïdf í 'e«iîi, bb P'rooîi," "Wo]], î>îîi, «,r Croon, I like him," ,eod N< tiey pouting, The eaptain lookoiî ^crion-. "%»пь'»п<*<> >" ho cried, >ь ndy. '''Whniî that, jofif/, !'iOsedijJ5bed .animal—th.d сЬчЛшлт?" » V.N. y;4a!" "*f*hut onesided, rî.»ucîiy, mow-moving l«b- to l"ok a: a- ,an ourur.',:- his atfeaîloi, to !пч duties, ^orkiie^ wdl cíe r<- oífío.T, ^ } о рнсаи^е he а шау '"* 11 Vou >.чу yon iovo ni;," yb i го: r(4:'k»'d or¡e! 4' t. Ward' а ыаа, ' «.-íiirij< like flamdor, down it came, whot; \S ard ¡«ípJ'Míi,.' a'bdc, jit-t fa lütt" to c-ci;-o ir, Cro«aa however, hoT.díü.-r о v.'г N>: tie, who Lad not jvi been dMtaiban^h/d írum tho ri'.'obí?, r» .'e.abjcd ^îatiofiary, bracîî)|.r Jiiraseji1 wit i» edi liU yiy^L as if deîrbatbned (a> r«'eojV(; and In-ir ap th.b huye шл^, and thus eav- tfac girl from boing crushed. Tho caed fob apon luna líe sîay"fpired as if ;(bo; \ч ob'f way; t),.'a, eompr- ley hi- hp-, h< , v. it!! ;( 4ip'-rie$ay$i! oih *ri, cree-fiay lb^ wLole yi^aafio taesytL, hop* и|не» his iiaeh the \s« a.'i¡t of that "ï'-'-it mass of timber, thuF н!Ь« !dmg tho funni of f p. jrjri h«;neath hnn, iiC-L d} , aof, the ful! "a e уд ht of tía nia?f w;is щцул iiim—t Lib tnu.e )¡avo cre.e/b i! wa.4, lawovety t<, b"ar do v. a any наш not ydfted with tr-aneadou.- .^trea-cü;, and nerved hy a dePennaatiOîi to navo a human hie, Th" маеws of the poor hdlow cra<*ked, faeit re-arly 'h1 abb » thijre he :<{/;ae!ng, trcmbbn^ in every limb, porspiriag af. every pore. Kot h'-nx scorned it possible for стеа this 11»'гса1ея to liold :cioh a bunion. Hb poor body kept .baking iowi-r ;md lower-— b-oth o,4ific to hi* lipíí—li¡A vyi-д pi'uiraded far from their sockets. f/jwf-r—lower—lower—&)h aft or *ol>—sf r;tirba«^ Loavia^ chest—hwoilea, parple che< к — cryokns^ thewH and ,dnew, — the eye,^ upon tho girl b aoatli him., whom the captain and Ward vu\re endoavour- iaur to exfrkafty so th.tt Сиюп m; y ht fry Lan^oH from that appalling, сгаяЫпо* 'mLiüi opois ЬЫ back» 382 [Jdne lt 1870. BOYS ОГ EHLAND. Meanwhile, the voice of the skipper, exhorting the men aloft to hurry down and help Croon, rang through the storm-din like the crackling of rifles. •:Shorter and faster came the poor fellow's sobs- down—down. He groaned "Oh, God 1" fell upon his knee, got up again, sank back—this time on both knees—braced himself up another second— tóttered-rfeíl—but still kept his bodv above the girl by pressing the deck with his swollen hands! Now his sufferings were terrible. The strained eyeballâ were bloodshot, and blood came from the mouth, while spasms convulsed his whole frame. A moment later he must have fallen unconscious, must have ruptured a vein, but for the arrival f rom aloft of his shipmates, who, supporting the weight with their unitéd strength, moved it to one side, thus relieving my chum, and insuring the safety of the girl. . rThe moment; be" .was thus relieved, Croon, gasping \ • There is little more to add. J' :; "*; *л; Nettie eventually married Croon, and, never'had cause to regret doing so. Polished by love,-this "rough diamond" seemed to improve every day, making one of the best of husbands. f J> "Now, gentlemen,'* said Swisher, when he\had officially,thanked the, young sailor, "as thisNis.the first time I have ha£ the honour oí acting as, your <;hairman?'I have great pleasure in announcing.-that I haye .ordered a bowl of punch which I hope you wilf.da mo the honour of drinking." :v' . A loud cbeer followed this speech, in the midst of ^yhich the punch was brought in, "'Д ^*; .. , (To bo continued.) '- :*: A .: THE WILD HORSE OF WIND RIVER. THE SINGING LESSON. A nightingale made a mistake; She sang a few notes out of tune; Her heart ^syeady.to break, And «he hid frqm the moon. She wrung hçr cla\ys, poçr thinfc, But was far too proud to speak; 'She tucked her head under her wing, And pretended to be asleep. A lark, arm-in-arm with a thrush, Came sauntering up to the place; The nightingale felt herself blush, Though feathers hid her face; fiho knew that they heard her song, bhè felt'them -snicker and sneer \ ВЫ thought this life was too long, * And Wished the could skip a year, 41 Oh» nightingale t" cooed a dove, "Oh, nightingale I what's the use? You bird of beauty and love, Why behave like à goose? Don't ekulk away: from our light, Like a common,,contemptible fowl; "ïou bird of joy and delight, Why behave l}ke an owl? "Only think of all you.have done; Only think of all you can'do: A falso noto Is really fun Prom such a bird as you I Lift up your proud. jittle crest; Open your •. LÜsical bcalv; Other birds have ta do their best, You heedjOuly to's^peafc'' The nightingale fchyly took Her head'irom"tinder her wing, Адй giving the dove, a.look,. *. Straightway began, to fing. There was never a bird could pass; Tim night was divinely* calm;' And the people siood on the £rras3 To- hear 'that wonderful psalm I The nightingale did not care, .jSheonly «vuig-to tho.skics; . ,¿, Hex, song's ascended there, "And there she tixed her eyes. lTIio people''that etxiod below '■' •She know but little about; ■ - And .this Btoiy*s a moral, I know, , If уоц'Д try to flndïit çut Ï , Not long since a most exciting chase happened near the military camp on Big Ponagie Biver after a wild horse of Wind River Valley. The story runs thus :— Some years ago the Cheyenne Indians stole a noted horse in Kansas, and sold him to the S;oux, who in turn sold him to the Utes, from whom he was bought or stolen by the Snakes. He became so vicious that the Snakes sold him to a white man —a Mr. Gallagher. While he was being taken to the settlement, he got away, and took to the mountains. AU efforts to capture him were in vain ; he outran the swiftest Indian horses, and remained at large for several months. At last he was surprised by a body of warriors* surrounded, and lassoed before he could break through, them. Securely tied with ropes, he was brought into the Indian camp, and beaten andsfarved into obedience, but an ambitious Indian one day attempted to ride him, whom he threw, and succeeded in getting into the hills. , 4 , • t He now had a large rope around his neck, the .end.-of-which dragged on the ground, and a bridle and Indian saddle were on him. /He was often seen, but defied all efforts to re- capture him. One day an Indian who was out fishing saw him grazing under a bluff, and, getting a lariat, crawled to the edge of the precipice, and, with unerring precision, threw the noose over his head. Once more the noble brute found himself a captive, and this time he' was securely tied to a tree with a log chain'; button e of the links was broken, and the chain partings-he made for the hills and was not seen again. } . /,A short timeafter, just after .breakfast, a sentinel of {the camp on ponagie "reported a horse on the bluffe overlooking the cañip, and a closed inspection showed the animal to be a'veritable wild'Jiorse. He seemed greatly excited, and?kept galloping up and down thé bíuffs¡with heacf and tail erect. The commanding, officer ordered that no one should pursue hincas long as he kept running and \yas in sight of the camp.7¿ ^ ^ "X > 'The'brave horse ^presently'.descended from.* the bluffs and ran across the galley'-with the speed of the wind, to where a company- öf cavalry horses .were grazing, but, becoming alarmed, he wheeled when near them ançl made into the;hills.s ;¿,y'■}■•■ As if channed, he soon returned; and^malqng a wide circuit,"."passed baround t^e camps ahd;herds several times. * . \, ' ,v v The rapidity, and length, of. .time which lie ran ;was incredible, v : 4 '** 7 * V" . iWe could seeVvtheJog . chaiu^threshing about, his, fore-legs,- apparently*.игцш&| him to greater exer? tipns/ / \-4' "• * \\fi '^c\h , At last he stopped near. ' - - - * <*'-• - - - WILLIAM F. TltlKCEIW.. : VI. A town in Mexico ; a river in Bavaria; a town in Sicily; ä town in Palestine ; a mountain in Bavaria ; a river in the •Netherlands ; a town in Sicily. The initiale readdownwards and the finals upwards will give the name of a country in Africa and its capital. * ' J ■ -i ¿;,T. (Hutchinson. ■J ""SO análbefn "'Acity In Prussia. У •"•t^iíPQPiíiod^yz "*u A,town in Persia.. , r » $50 and Нагое , A town in England. , ,1,000 and Oao , A port in Central America. . 5 and Ena A river in, Russia. JEhe initiais in order will give the name of a famous T. Hutchinson. VIII. I consist of, 17 letters. My 6, 9,2,15, C, 7,17 is a character in Timon of Athens ; my 15,2; 4,12,2, G, 13 is a character in Macbeth; my 11, G, 2, 9,13, 5, 4,10 is a character in "The Tempest my 1,2,10, 4.12, 2,17 is a character in a "Winter's Tale;" my 9, 2, 12,.IS Js.a character in "King.Недгу IV.," Part 2 ; my 13, 7, 15, 2' is a character in King Henry VI.," PajCt 2 ;jnj 15. 2,4. 5,17 is a character in "Antony and Cleopatra^" tny) 8,Çô) 15, 9, 11, 3, 4 is » character,.in u Romeo and Juliet ;** my 15,3, 4,12, 5,4,10 is a character in V Othello; W and my wholo Is a character in "Cymbeline." -Iff ' I '' У /- '-y.-i ;. . , . T. HUTCHINSON.. IS. ; • / i /. My first is tri Portugal, but not in Spain; . My second is in lightning, but not in rain; My third is in abhorrence, but not in'hate: My fourth is in Rachel,-but not in Kato; My fifth is tn giant, but pot in; man;. My sixth is in leather, but not in tan; , My seventh is in maintop, but norin'eail; My eighth^is in body* but not in tall; My ninth is in barrel, but not in tun; bo. V -♦••••"•My-tenth is in abbot, but.not iniiun ¡ ¿ . u. :-. f чt.My eleyenth ia in banjorbut. not in harp; t My twelfth is in gold-fish, but not in carp;, My .thirteenth is in caddy, but not i& tea; And my whole-ia the name of a most distinguished philanthropist. .•:cae¿í ,vffv?.n™. My fourtli ls¡in-Hairy,'büt not inJBethjr. My fifth is in haddpqk, but.not in fish; My sixth is in platter, but* not in dish; .-My seventh is in lavender, but not in myrrh; ( 1 >,My eighth is in blankpç, but not in f цг; . * My ninth'is in gooseberry, but not' in grape1; My tenth is in binding, but not in,tape; у "• .m7-.whojß is a taJe I ivci-n, ( Which is'in the Boys of England seen. W. P. Trindeh. . за. . , , lam composea of 14 letters.!. My 9, 7,11,6,4,8 is a relation; myl, 7, 6, 1,8 is an article used by a violinist; my G, 11, 10, 14 is to be confi- dent; my 10,4r 3,3, 2,5-is en article .worn by ladies; my 12,13,11,10 is notr sweet г my 12, 13, 5 Ыог relation; my 10, 7, 3, 4, 5 is a Dird; my 1, 7, C, 14 is a flower; and my whole is a name that will be found in the BpYS OP ENG- LAND."' '* - 4 ,;' C. Thompson. XII. A bay in Australia; a country of Europe; a river run- ning into Hudson Bay; a river of Scotland; a port in Japan; a town in the north of Ireland; a town of South Wales; a city of England; a river of Durham; a province of Spain: a county town of Ireland ; a lake of Switzerland; a town of England. The initials read downwards, will tell you what is in preparation for the Bo YS об England; the finals read upwards will give the title of a piece of poetry which appeared in this page a few weeks since. G. McSorley- (Liverpool). XIII. My first, it is a torment, From Germany it comes, And often persecutes us ^ With trumpets and with drains^ ^ ^ ''Жу seçondiadies#seÎdom telC * '» «\ 1 1 ч: *• - * -V7hén4hirty,years*are past"/" But paint and powder sometimes fall, . ., _, .AnoUt is,shown,a^last; -j.^, ^ I ^ My whole is ûsèd ïor'broTccnlimrjs', It is a kind x>t tie; So now to find my answer out # 4 Î trust you all will tryr '* !* W, F. TKINDER and Alicje SmiNpR. sir. I am a word of ten letters/ My 8, 3, 9 is an animal ; my 9, 8,3,1 is a snare; my 6,5, 7, 9, is part of the1 body ; my 1,10,4 is what we write with; my 2, 8f 6,4 is a metal; my 1, 3, 4, 9 is rapid breathing; and m# whole is a'musical infetrument. f :- "": • - 'H. W." НореГ XV. I am a word of eleven letters. My 7,2, 6, б is to temper by heat; my G, 1,1,.G, 4, 5, 10 Is courteous ; my 4, 6, 3,2 is naked ; my 2, 6, 3, 5 is a title; my 5, G, 7, 2 is a narrow road; my 1,11, 2, 8 is to grieve; .my ), 10rll, 3f 2, 8 is an animal; my 1, 2, 9, 7, 8 is a pretence; my-2,7, 8,10,11 is To Igo in"; my 3,'2, G, 11 is to educate ; and my whole is the French for a certain trades- man. , . '. . •••• . . :=KewRoss. , .XVI. ...... .-. b. I consist of eWeh letters/ My 3,9., 1 is a workman's tool; my 0, 8,3, G is a vessel to try metals; my 6,4,10, 11 is a particle used in com- parison ;,my 11, 5,1 means fresh; my 3, C, 8,1 is to eeeth £Ípwly;.my 4, 10, 9 is a son of ^oahj my Д1, 2,0, 5 is an 'appellation ; and my whole is a talc in the YOUNG MEN OP GKEAT BIUTAIN. . , - F. РОРПАМ. SQUARE WORDS. x ;': , XVII. ;'f- -'' • Л geo^raphtcartctm;;:an:a:djqctive; to omit*; at.'firsi.-' Lionel Littlepen. XVIII. One of the elements; a metal; the cross.; extremities, Lionel littlepen. XIX. - ■ ,\ - An assembly of princes ; á geographical term; other ; to Lionel Littlepen. ■•I' 1 '. V XX. . w-- l.;7lf'.. DIAMOND PUZZLE. ■ 1. A consonant. 2. A vessel. 3. The inhabitants of a northern part of Дгеа^ Britain. r4. To Jay' siôgô;to. ^5", An historian. U. A Trench lord of Edward the Third's time. 7. A map. 8. Hefore. 9. A cousohant. The centrals read downwards and across will give tho name of a famous French Historian of - the time of .Charles Y/,\ - * * LlONEI/ LITTLEPEN. ONLY A BOY. Only a boy, with his noise and fun, The veriest mystery under the enn, "As'brimful of mischief , and wit and gleep As ever a human frame can be, And as hard to manage as—what? Ah, me 1 'Tischardt? tell; . ,' Ttct" we Доте him well. Only a boy, with .his fearless tread, Who cannot be driven, but must be led j Who troubles the neighbours' dogs ánd cats, And tears more clothes and spoils more hats, Loses more tops, and kites andimts, 'v> Than1would stock a store For a year or more. Only á boy, with his wild, strange ways, With his idle hours on his busy days; With his cpicer remarks, and ,odd replies, Sometimes" íóolishVand sometimes wise, Often brilliant for önö pf his size, As a meteor hurled From tbojlanet world. Only a. boy, who w,ill be a man, If Nature goes 011 vyith hcrjirat great plan— If water, or firej рг бУте fat^l s^are. . Consplr/bót £0 rot¿us of • this dur-heir, -* Our blesöiug, our trouble, our rest our care, 'Our torrhent, our joy 1 "Only a b >y." <%t Alt Communications to be addressed to the Editor, Mb. Edwin J. Bkett, 173, Fleet Street, B.C. »** We cannot, tinder any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in Vie columns of this Journal, " / .' *** Numcrouslettcrs stand over for replies. À»! â rule we cannot undertake to answer our. Correspondents' in a shorjter time than three weeks. Letters must be prepaid, . ^ »** Correspondents tcho wish to receive replies by post mmtin alteases send stampeddirected envelopes.. *. "' W. Gkandage—(1.) It very often happens, when a ta^e is not the cspyright of any one person. (2.) In the cou rse of a little time. (3.) Gutenburg first beiran to print at . Strasburg, some time between the years ИЗО ami 1442. No; it is not considered a healthy trade: a vast number of ;its follower* die of consumption and palsy. j(4.') We cannot at present inform you. { (5.) We gave'the list; we believe, last week. :<6.) It is a mere matter of choice, ' <7.) Not until it U ready to launch. A Veüy Old Subsceibeii seems tohave lost his conscience; only twelve questions. (Ю Yes. (2.) There* are so many we cannot specify them. (3.) Wash'wèU'with strong sott soap and water, (4.) Cannot tell you. . (5.) 'Wo^haverno right to answer, (ß.) Consult a cabfnet maker (not minis- terial,) \f.) Spaniels. (8.) Don't understand briyt&ins connected,with| poaching.. J9.) We have hcaríf,sp,.í>ut bred 1er. Äü'ieu. ;a Young Autist.—The Ute.Cbrkson Stanfield,' the Royal Academician, was born at'Sunderland, and in early lifo , was ajsallor before-themast. 'The, sea became, therefore, . his studio, and the proofs of his thorough knowledge* ofthat were seen In the splendid works of art he gávjs to the world. » t Jt is strange.that;he-served on ЬоагДчШе.йаше ship?in which Douglas.Jerrold was a tptdshipmaiuaudonce, when the officers got upa play, Stanfield pAintedithe, scenery, while-Jerrold was the stagemanager, i ВДз Impossible here to enumerate his works in the short space allotted to corres- pondents. Look.at any of his paintings, and jou will .find a master mind pervading,them, -! < ENQciiiEE^-Tho title "enquire,"'was anciently-a shield or armour-bearer—the person that attended a knight in time of war and carried htg shield^ « This title was subsequently awarded indifferently to all personé of distinguished social position. It is now a universal domino—a sort of " wrap- rascal," which symbolises no dignity, but rather the con- trary. ■ ■ ■ / <:<■•; \ X '• j Tin Bobbin—Formerly nó person was qualified to become a Member of -Parliament for a county unless"1 he was pos- sessed of an Income of £600 a year; and fora borough £300 a year. By a statute passed in Ш8 the property qualification was abolished. aiAimicE Dbatton.—a.) No; the name is not mentioned in the Illblö. (2.) We do not think your handwriting is suffi- ciently good for an oflicc. It is rather wild and stratum,'. It might, perhaps,-get you a situation as a rough copying clerk. (3.) They, will," no: doubt, be resumed when time and space arc alfordcd us. J. R, F.—(l.) The passage money varies according'to the class of vessel that you go in. (2.) At any of the ports where the ships sail from: London, Liverpool, or llull. , (3.) It Is impossible to say. The emisratiom agcnrjvouM be able to answer the other questions much better than we should. C. S. Molton.—Unless the- articles were'left under a properly attested will, wc do not think that you can claim the articles; and your case is still more hopeless, because the paper signed by your mother was not witnessed; but surely your brother will not ,act so harshly; a mutual friend might, perhaps, arbitrate between you. Feanky Dele.—Tho* complaint'you labour* under proceeds no doubt from anbdrdcr in the blood; whichcaretul treat- ment both in diet, exercise; and general living, will in all probability effect a cure. This is the only recommendation wecah'givcyou. 'tl . '/.4 '..':/ Black Joe.-(1.) Manufactory for awhat?'* (2.) Yes, by very good practice: at present it is very indifferent. (?.) How can he be* the Prince of .Wales when heis king, seeing that his eldest son, if. there bo a. spn living, will then be styled by courtesy Prince'of Wales. (4.) Whichever place you like; but If you take our advice, stop-In old Kngland. Ted KiNC.-Do youímeáir.tbc volumejr, patts; oriWumbers? • If the volumèsvthcy ban be'*enty post-free; 'Torttír Gd:J each volume; monthly parts, 7d. post ireq. Send stamps,rfor atiy; and they will be avohcoforwardedi * '1" T. II. c-According to thcpaymentoCyour wages, you«arè both bound to give and receive a week's notice. If lie does r hót-pay youyou mist appéal to p.county:cowt.vW&hàA'ê no vacancy. , Light Hobseman.—(l.)'Ycs, there used to be a print-seller liudolph Akerman andCo.,.inJîegcnt Strcqt. and the firm mavsiillbeinexistcncci (2,) consult No.14« of the liots op England, and that'will give you the required informa*- tiun. t . „- , • ■ ,; J. H. Crowthek.—<1.) You can have any Ы the back numbers; they arc always kept in print. (2.) Wc cannot well answer tho question uinii we know bow many .you want. (3.) It Is meant to bo forwarded when the time is advertised. J * • C. TAKONi.~Bötb ;M<^;№il^qn/thG;^ of tho tales in général, but it is not: quite certain when they will be finished. p. Penruse-vCuwIcs John Ivcanitbçsonpf Ui^Wiitinçtor, Edmund, was born at Wntertord, In the year loll, and died < at Brighton-, January £3rd, l&ßs.. ■, •. ■ и F. FAiitFiELD.-Your age precludes*'your entering tho PLocçù,TAit.—The'Imporlá of wlieaf, flour, barley, &c, amounted in Í8CÍT to £32,579,Ç52. J':' * 7 '' ■\V. л. KAogs.'—Wö Iiavelno:rcc9lIcction óf your^qücstlóns. Wlllyou kindly'forward them again? J -«i "(/ Joskin.-(1.) We cannot tell, yfiu to what height you will .- erow. (2,) Yes; as a copying clerk. iNQumEu.-Dutch metal is,the etuff usually used In the tneatrt'S. * Jack Straw.—Both :the. theatres you mention; ptodüóed . pantomimes lasty.çar, and bqth were.hlñbly.successfnb! ( J. KouiNsoN.-AVe believe that a i^tional cxhiblUoUjW.ilii bo opened m 1871. '4 , . ÇcsToLACE.—It'yôu search the pages of 'Jthc;coruor дцтоегз 1 of the Journal, you will find the information «j оц y mu ¿ A Youksiiiue ArritENTíCE.—Yes; you. will .BMrirf yóur i chance with the rest. ■ *,"í ' * TnAVEbLEa,—The reverend David ."Livingstone, was born at Blantvrc, on thd banks of tMCiyde; ttbtfut the year Ш7. ■ i Bk^ta.— There ore t>S men and bmcers to each' cpinpany, and 'ten companies form a regiment. ■ 3 '* ' i * Constant Keadek.— Tho strength or the British army is estimated а^Ш,120 men and 11,700 horses. 384 [June l, WO. BOYS OF ENGLAND. A YoüNo JEWELLEH.-The Koh-i-noor, or ** Mountain of Light." which was lately worn by her Majesty, was dis- covered in the mines ot Golconda atthe;time (Ш0) the region of that name constituted the kingdom of Kootub Shah, under the suzerainty of the Mogul Emperor Shah Jehaum. The emperor ana the King of Golconda having fallen out, the Meer Jumla, the vizier ot the former, for- sook his master, coHtributcd to his overthrow, and, by the bribe of the Koh-I-noor, obtained from the conquering Mogul the throne. Thus the gem passed to Delhi, where, in 1CC5, It was seen by the privileged eyes of the French traveller, Tavcrnler. The gem remained at Delhi until 1789, when the empire received its fatal blow from the in- vasion of Nadir Shah. Among the spoils of the conquest , which the Persian warrior carried back in triumph was the Koh-l-noor. When the Persian conqueror was assas- sinated by his subject*, Ahmed Shah, their commander, carried off with him the treasure; and was probably aided by these means in consolidating the new state, which, under the now familiar title of the Dorannee Kmpire, he speedily created In Cabul. With the overthrow of the Dorannee monarchy by the Sikhs, under Kunject Singh, the jewel mused to a new master. Shah Shujawas the last Addafle chief who possessed it. Shu ja was a fugitive, and Kunject Singh, suspecting he had the treasure, deter- mined to possess it, and at length, on the 1st of June, 1813, was the day fixed when the great diamond of the Moguls should be surrendered to the ascendant dynasty ;of the Singlis. The exiled prince gave a signal to one of his attendants, who, in a moment, returned with a small roll, which he set down upon a carpet between the two chiefs. The roll was unfolded, and therein its matchless brilliancy, glittered the Koh-i-noor. From the family of the Sikh chief it has now passed to the sovereigns of these realms by the conquest of Lahore. Its value, calculated according to the m с th od of compu t a tlon em Dloy ed b г J e we II ers ,ls more than two millions sterling. In its rough state it weighed 800 carats, which were reduced by the unskllfulness oí the artist 279. The famous Pitt diamond weighs 130 carats. The great diamond at tho top of the Russian sceptre weighs over 200 carats. Robin HooD.-There are plenty of makers In the Waterloo Itoad, where you can bo suited at any price. Make Inquiries among them. Ned Sümmebs.—St. George was tho patron saint or England {me^Stvm Champions"), and the cry was the battle-cry in the olden days. Jack Cade.-(1.) In about twenty numbers. (2.) Very good for your age. Sonic Jascus.—Lines declined with thanks. A lior of Excland is thanked for hte good wishes. II. Sweet.—Twenty-six numbers generally form a volume. T. C. Hill.—Declined, with thanks. Том Rcate.—A new tale commences each new volume. Bio Ben.—The 7th and 8th Hussars. CASES FOB BINDING. I Subscribers aro requested to observe that Cases for Bind-' ing the " Nigut-Guard" and " Alone in the Pirates' Lair " can be had oí the Booksellers for 3d.} or Od. post free; and for "Rupert Dbeadnouqut " for Is., or post free, Is. 2d. Tke Volumes of the above Works can also bo had at the following prices :— *' Alone in the Pirates* Lair," bound in green and gold, Is. Od.; or, 2s., p\)st free. The "Night-Guard," bound in green and gold, 2s.; or, poet free, 2s. 3d. (vy. ;. 'i:.,^.; "Rupert Dreadnought/* bound in blue and gold, 4s. j or, post freo, ás. 6d. ORDER OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. READY THIS DAY. No.3of CHEVY CHASE; OR, THE BATTLE ON THE BOEDER. With a beautiful Picture in tints. Order of your Bookseller CHEVY CHASE. TOM DARING; or, FAR FROM ДОМЕ. The above named popular and highly interesting tale, being constantly inquired for, will be republished in Weekly Numbers, price Id., and Monthly Parts, price 4d. The paper, printing, and pictures will be of the very best description, and a very large sale is anticipated. Notice, the first numbers shortly. Reissue, in a cheap and complete form, of the Popular Story of the YOUNG APPRENTICE; on, THE WATCH-WORDS OF OLD LONDON, In three Divisions at One Shilling each. Each division will contain, iu addition to the numerous -whole-page Coloured Pictures, about 24 Illustrations and 200 pages of reading, bound in stiff covers, cloth back, &c. May be had from all booksellers, price Is., or direct from our Office, 173, Fleet Street, post lree Is. 2d. THE MIMIC STAGE. Our Readers are informed that all Stages for the Plays issued by Mr. Brett will bear his autograph, with the following notice pasted on the back :— "Mr. Edwin J. Brett's Stage for the Boys op England, Young Men of Great Britain, and Boys of the World." Any Stages that do not bear the above notice are only imitations of Ыа Stages, and our Readers are requested not to purchase them* Printed and GRAND GIFTS! GRAND GIFTS! wren тпе 3STE-W VOLUME OF THE BOYS OF ENGLAND. IMPORTANT! Mr. Edwin J. Brett wishes to call SPECIAL ATTEN- TION to tho following GRAND GIFTS that have been up- wards of twelve months in preparation, and although they have cost ONE THOUSAND POUNDS, NO CHARGE Will be made to the Readers of the BOYS OF ENGLAND. These Novel and Instructive Gifts, when finished, will measure 51 FEET LONG, and will be entitled, THE BOYS OF ENGLAND'S GRAND PANORAMA of OLD AND MODERN LONDON, from the BANKS OF THE THAMES. An Original and Illustrated Record of Historical and Social Events, introducing many novel and startling effects, which will amuse and instruct our Readers, young and old. The Vieres will consist of Historical and Celebrated Buildings. OUR STARTING POINT WILL BE FIBST SCENE. -GREENWICH HOSPITAL, with MOVEABLE Ships, Boats, and tho Man-of-war, " Vic- tory,'* bearing the body of Nelson. SECOND SCENE-TRAITOR'S GATE, TOWER OF j LONDON, with' MOVEABLE Boats, and л Barge con- veying the Princess Elizabeth, Sir Thomas Wyatt, and Captain Brett to the Tower. THIRD SCENE.-THE CUSTOM HOUSE, with MOVE- ABLE Figures, representing tho Thames Police in pursuit of River Pirates. FOURTH: SCENE, BILLINGSGATE. MARKET.- Axrival, of the Fish * and* Oyster i Boats, MOVEABLE -Ships, Sic. • ~ • ',"v / FIFTH SCENE.-SOMERSET HOUSE, time 1740. MOVEABLE Boats, Soldiers, &c, in pursuit of Jacobites. Fight on tho Thames. SIXTH SCENE.-FAIR ON THE THAMES, during the Great Frost of 1709, showing the Booths, Shows, &c This Scene, when built up, will represent a perfect Model of the Fair on the Thames. SEVENTH SCENE.-0LD WHITEHALL, with MOVE- ABLE Figures, and the State Barge, with King Charles I., and his Courtiers passing! EIGHTH SCENE.-H0USE OF LORDS, WESTMIN- STER-—Grand MOVEABLE Procession of the Lord Mayor's Show by Water. Time, 1847. NINTH SCENE.-LAMBETH PALACE—MOVE ABLE Figures, Archbishop Laud being conveyed prisoner to Lambeth Palace. TENTH SCENE.-THE PENITENTIARY PRISON, MILLBANK.-MOVEABLE Figures. Pursuit and cap- ture of a Convict by the Thames Police. ELEVENTH SCENE.-VIEW OF HAMMERSMITH during the great Boat-race. Large MOVEABLE Figures representing the Oxford and Cambridge crews, boats, &c, TWELFTH SCENE.-PALACE OF HENRY VIII. AT RICHMOND, with MOVEABLE Figures engaged in a Water Tournament. THIRTEENTH SCENE.-VIEW OF WINDSOR CAS- TLE AND ETON COLLEGE, with grand MOVEABLE Procession of the Scholars by Water. And numerous other Scenes, which we have not space to describe. * IMPORTANT. With the above will be given the BOYS OF ENGLAND LEOTUUE BOOK, containing a fnll description of each building, and an historical account of the principal events with which the Moveable Figures are associated; making the above Grand Gifts home AMÜSEMENT and instruc- tion **or Father and Son. NOTICE. STAGES of a Novel construction, with full directions fer exhibiting the BOYS OF ENGLAND'S GRAND PANORAMA Are in active preparation. for the Proprietor, Edwin J. Brett, 173, Fleet! A SPLENDID GIFT! READ THIS! With ЗГо. 184 of the BOYS OP ЕГОАШ) Being the commencement of tho New Volume, we shall present to all our Headers a valuable and beautiful pistube, PEINTED IN TEN C0L0UES, REPRESENTING THE right for the Royal Standard at the Battle of Sedgremoor. This Splendid Picture will be full of historical interest, and worthy a good frame; and we advise our friends to order early No. 184, with the GRAND PICTURE, GRATIS. Also in the same No. will commence a New Story, entitled, MONMOUTH: OR, THE AXE AND CROWN. REMEMBER! In No. 185 will commence Mr. JAMES GREEENWOOD'S GREAT NEW STORY of I JOE STERLING: OR, A RAGGED FORTUNE. ORDER No. 184 of the BOYS OP ENGLAND for the Beautiful Picture In Colours, and the New Story of MONMOUTH; and No. 185 for tho New Story of Joe Sterling, with the First Scene and FirsfSheet of Moveable Figures for THE BOYS OF ENGLAND'S GRAND PANORAMA, GRATIS. NOTICE TO ALL! . MR. JAMES GREENWOOD, tho Author of "JACK STEDFAST," is epeclaljy engaged to mite for the " BOYS or England " a New Story, entitled, JOE STERLING: OR, A RAGGED FORTUNE. We believe this will be one of the best stories Mr. Green- wood has ever written, and our readers may rest assured they have a treat in store. With the commencement of Mr. Greenwood's new story in No. 185 of the BOYS OP England, we shall give the first scene and first sheet of Moveable Figures of the Boys of England Grand Panorama. NOTICE. « YOUNG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN" and «BOYS OF ENGLAND" GUIDE-BOOKS, Price Twopence each ; post-free^ Threepence, \. GUIDE-BOOK FOR ROWING AND GYM- NASTICS. 2. GUIDE-BOOK FOR WALKING, RUNNING, JUMPING, FOOTBALL, &c. 3. GUIDE-BOOK FOR FENCING. 4. GUIDE-BOOK FOR SWIMMING. 5. GUIDE-BOOK FOR CRICKET. 6. GUIDE-BOOK FOR ANGLING. Every Young Man and Boy who is anxious for good health should purchase these Manuals, the best and sim- plest ever issued. ORDER OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. NOW BEADY. Part I. of THE RIVAL APPRENTICES: A TALE OF THE RIOTS OF П80. Price Ы. PART XL. of the BOYS OF ENGLAND IS NOW READY, Price Sixpence ; or, Post free from our office, Sevenpence. et, London, E.G. U yjii-i í:j" J ¡;.t.N'M!S-l'.'> ABROAD 386 [JCTfE 1, 1870; BOYS OF ENGLAND. couch and glanced out, he saw that he was in a house on the margin of that part of the river which is called the Pool. He could see the tall masts of the shipping rearing their fantastic heads amid the mists of the morning, and beyond them the then unfre- quent houses of Deptford, while the winding of the river was utterly lost in the haze and shadow. One thing he felt sure of. Escape was out of the question—at least, by that window. The interrupted words of Bill Harvey now recurred to his mind—" Perhaps she'll say to me, * Here, Bill Harvey, take this gentleman on board one of them '" This peculiarly-rendered speech told him enough, The person who had caused his seizure and imprisonment had it in view, evidently, to send him out of the country, and spirit him away to some land where she would no longer be in fear of him. During these cogitations the door was thrust open, and a lady, with a mask on her face, en- tered. Though thirteen years had passed by since that memorable evening when, masked and in secret, she had gone to Fox Court, to the house of Mrs. Abel Wright, to give birth to the child she had resolved to discard, no one who had seen her then could have mistaken her now. There was the same Cleopatra figure, the same proud step, the same haughty bearing of the head. The door being closed behind her, she ad- vanced towards Sir Launcelot Ashton and with- drew her mask. Such a face, such a head, it falls to the lot of few men to see. It Í3 a strangely difficult task, to describe her, but I must attempt it. "* Her form, lithe, rounded, and full'of sweeping curves, would have been the type of grace and lissome youth, had not a certain undulating movement, perceptible even in repose, suggested the smooth power of a serpent's folds or the iron muscles beneath the sleek, fur of a tigress. The hei'd, small, well - set, and gracefully, borne, was nil of statuesque beauty—statuesque save in'regard to the eyes, which shot out baleful gloamings from beneath the heavy masses of hair which rippled over the marble brow. This hair, rich, abundant, and carefully dressed, was of a rich brown; the brows and lashes of a darker tint, the eyes—crouching so warily be- beneath their lashes-r-of a clear, brilliant, bluish grey, and the skin of the shoulders, arms, and throat, exposed in all thejr exquisite proportions as she threw aside her cloak, were of a creamy whiteness, contrasting: exquisitely' with jthe beautiful rosy tints of her cheeks and lips. j These lips, too, had their own character; car- nation tinted and supple, they were yet capable of hardness and sternness, and as she now! confronted her captive, they quivered with vengeful emotion. "Well, Sir Launcelot Ashton, so we meet again," she said, in a rich, mellow voice, whose tones seemed to ring out upon the still air. "Tes, madam," he said, "a strange meeting truly—one sought by уощ however, and, there- fore, one, I trust, that will lead to good both to me and to your unfortunate son." The lady's eyes became suddenly ablaze with anger, and her bosom rose and fell violently in the fulness of her emotion. "Sir Launcelot," she cried, standing before him with clenching hands, " I have brought you here to offer you terms. I know of no son, I know of nothing that you speak of ; but for the sake of my husband I will demean myself so far as to come to an agreement on one condition, and that is that I never hear from you or see you again." "Mrs. Brett," replied Sir Launcelot, "grant me five minutes' speech uninterruptedly, and I will tell you exactly how matters stand." He paused, and the beautiful woman bowed . haughtily her acquiescence. "Well, then, madam," he said, "at the present . moment your son—nay, interrupt me not—is at the school of St. Albans, where he is supposed to be kept by order and with the money of Lady Mason, your mother. Це fancies himself now to be a foundling, but the time has arrived when Í he must know all, and shall know all if Sir | Launcelot Ashton lives to tell him." "And what is this precious lie you have con- cocted Г said Mrs. Brett, sneeringiy. "No lie, madam, but the solemn, terrible, shameful truth, as you know well,—a truth at which your heart now trembles—nay, leaps un- bidden—that you, the wife now of an honest man, were the divorced wife of Lord Maccles- field—divorced because a son was born ¿o you in Fox Court, Holborn (at the house of Mrs, Abel Wright), whose father was Earl Rivers. I will tell him this—I will tell him that his name is Richard Savage—that you are his mother— that you love him (oh, Heaven, forgive me the lie !), and I will bring him face to face with you that he may scorn and despise you when he learns from your own lips that you disown him —you who are childless now without him. Ah, madam, you shall see how handsome, how noble he is, and how like his father, and you will feel so much more the scorn he will hurl at you 1" The effect of these words upon the lady was ! evident enough in her agitation, in her pallor, in her quivering lip. But she had schooled herself well, and was not to be taken at a disadvantage, "A pretty oration, truly; a precious piece of acting," she said. "And so you imagine that you will frighten me into assisting this impostor —in permitting to be passed off as my son this beggar's brat, or, maybe, your own child. May I ask, Sir Launcelot Ashton, most noble champion ; of learned beggardom, what your renson is for I all this—why, in fact (were this worthy scholar of St. Alban's indeed my son), you are so anxious to prove his affinity to me?" "In the first place, because I know that to jenable him to prove his birthright, would be to shame, to anger, to heap ruin on you." "A worthy reason, too; and whence arises in your breast this kindly feeling towards me?" sneered Mrs. Brett. "Woman 1" cried Sir Launcelot, "do you dare to stand before me, and pretend to forget? Knowing now how worthless, how utterly devoid "you are of ail that is womanly, I ought to feel ashamed that any lingering feeling links rne to the past; but, sines it does, I will tell you, that you may never again pretend to ignore my meaning. J)o you remember, madam, when you and I were young—very young f You are but thirty now, or little past. You were then sixteen. Bo you remember two years of happiness (to me at least, they were) Î Do you remember our walks, our visions, the last meeting under the elms at Earlslcigh, the vow you made, and— broke so shamelessly? Do you remember the scorn with wbich you met my surprise and my upbraidings, and, last of all, the vow I made to be revenged? J discovered all. I knew that у out husband, Lord Macclesfield, disavowpdj through your own confession, your unborn child. I saw you in JTo?c Court descend- ing from your carriage on the night pf the Щп January, .1697, I picked from the ground when the carriage had rolled away your glove, with your name and the date. I made friends with old Abel Wright, and found that he had caught a glimpse of your face when you were in fcis wife's house. 'He would know yon anywhere,' he said, and /have bim safely where you cannot discover him. The link is strong—strong enough to make the world believe the end of jtne moral and worthy story which began with a diyorce, and may end in greater shame still 1" Mrs. Brett eyed him, as he spoke, with all the vindictive and malignant passion that the human face can possibly express. The undulating motion seemed running through her every limb as if she was eager to spring upon and destroy him. ** So," she cried, picking her gloves from her jewelled fingers in her intense rage, " so ! this is your reason—this is your defiance. Hear mine 1 Your Richard Savage is a pitiful impostor, for my child is dead long since. I laugh at you—I despise you, and yet I will punish you. Before the sun again sets, you will be out at sea, bearing I away to a far-distant land, where your life will be made happy by the thought that this puppet you would have set in motion for my ruin is starving, and kicked from one to another, through the ill-advised kindness that raised him from his original beggary." With these words, she cast upon him a look which I should fail utterly to describe, and turned to quit the room, readjusting her mask as she did so. Impelled by a desperate impulse, knowing from her own confession what fate awaited him, Sir Launcelot drew his sword and sprang between her and the door. "By Heavens, madam!" he cried, "either I leave this room with you, or you leave it not at all." A laugh, inexpressibly mocking and irritating, escaped the ruby lips of the fair lady. "You are forgetting your gallantry, Sir Jjauncelot Ashton," she said. "However, to prove how much 1 appreciated jt, how much I expected from your courtesy and manhood, open the door for yourself, and see how Bella guards herself against Launce." This allusion to the pet names which had been theirs in the early days he had spoken of so passionately, would at any other time have stung him to the quick, and wrung from him some angry retort. Now, however, a curl of the lip alone testified his scorn, and, rushing to the door, he flung it open. "Distraction!" he cried, as he started back. Without, in the murky passage, stood ten stout and well-armed men, and, during tho confusion she had cast upon her foe, Mrs. Brett sailed majestically from the room, and stood safe among her myrmidons. "Adieu," said she, waving her hand to Sir Launcelot. "I will not say au revoir, for I sincerely trust we shall never meet again." Then the door was shut to, and Sir Launcelot was left standing still, sword in hand, in the centre of his prison. CHAPTER XIII. HAREY DOUGLAS AGAIN SEEKS REVENGE. Douglas, having been- compelled to remain silent in regard to the scene pn the lake, nursed his resentment until it burned like a raging fire in his breast. %V í JResolyßd tp effect his revenge, he was con- stantly од the Jook-put for opportunities, but for a long time he found only chances of petty annoyances, which Richard Savage (as we may now call him) only treated with disdain. Time fled quickly by, pnitil jtfje month of August in the fallowing year arrived, Towards the end of the second week, a letter arrived from Sir Humphrey Aljerton, requesting Mr. King to grant permission to a few of his scholars, Richard, Newton, and Harry Douglas among the number, to spend a day at "tbe Hall, and have a few hours' shooting, Mr. King—worthy man—had an intense ad- miration for anything aristocratic, and, delighted by the pleasant and condescending tone of the note, at once gave the required consent, and, accordingly, early on that day—ever memorablo afterwards in our hero's mind—a batch pf ten made their way across the fields, and entered the grounds of ßiv Humphrey, None more joyous, there than Harry Ponglas. The reason of .this we shall shortly see. The old baronet received them at the door of his fine house, and, leading them into the diuing- room, invited them to partake of a cold collation to give them strength for their labours, as he called it. The boys, in spite of their eagerness to be off and away over the ficjds, fell to with a will. Then, when ftey had had £heir fill, they fol- lowed Sir Humphrey into his armoury, where they were provided with guns and ammuni- tion, "£Tow. then, boys/' he said, as soon as they were jfalfy equipped, "I shall deliver you over to old Francis, £hè keeper, I and my daughter will meet ypuat the shrubbery at °ne o'ejock, i where we will lunch, and then I will accompany you for an hour pr so myself." Francis, the keeper,' was a strange-looking fellow, and a strange fellow in his nature, too. His face was very much like a scowling knocker ; and when he was in a bad temper he JONB I, 1870.] 387 BOYS OF ENGLAND. had a habit of fingering his stubbly chin as if hç werq feeling for the knocker ring. There were sullen wrinkles in bis velveteen waistcoat and rough breeches ; his brown leather buskins frowned in every button, and his heavy, I tjghtrlaced jboots descended on the earth with a ] solemnly slow, elephant-Hke thud which seemed j to say— "There ^-Ezekiel Francis bas put his foot down, and Ezekiel Francis would like to sec the man that could make him move it until he chooses to lift it up, again." • The friends whom Sir Humphrey AUerton in- yited to shoot over his preserves stood in great awe of Ezekiel, and durst not, for their five?, straggle out of the line, or ferret out any parti- cular spots unless Jie gave the word. But Ezekiel, like most human beings, ba$ one ßof t spot in fris heart. He had had a son and lost him in his prime, and accordingly he had a special likipg for juve- niles. When the scholars of St. Alban's, therefore, were delivered over to his charge, he was a being entirely different to the Ezekiel who was the terror of grown-up guests. His face wore a placid smile; he gave them plain directions in a cheery kind of way, and started off with them as for a holiday. The day was a glorious one—warm, but not ovcrpoweringly hot—and the very inexperience of most of the boys made the time all the merrier. Both Richard Savage and Harry Douglas proved themselves crack shots, and soon an un- derstanding was entered into by which the party was divided into two, one firing against the other; the one who bagged most birds to be the victors of the day.' So all things went on inerrily ; many a cheery laugh ringing over the meadows a$ now and then pne of the ypupgesj; yrent plunging into a deep rut, or failing over tangled brushwpod, or firing too soon or too late. At length, weary with their very enjoyment and hungry, too, the boys found themselves in the vicinity of the shrubbery, where they were to meet $ir Humphrey and Millie AUerjbpn. Just jb^fore jthey reached |t, old Ezekiel called a halt." "Look here, boys,** he said, "we haven't bagged a werry perdigious lot of birds, so we'll have one more try before we see Sir Humphrey. There's a power of birds just here sometimes. See, look at Tiny 1" The dog he alluded to was pointing at a mass of thick bushes. "Be ready," said Ezekiel, and fired one of his barrels into the bushes. In an instant a splendid covey of birds rose into the air. and thé eager boys fired together. Almost simultaneously with the report there rang out upon the air a wild shriek of pain, and one of the lads fell headlong to the ground. This one was Richard Savage Î In an instant the scholars crowded round him, while Ezekiel Francis, seeing how matters stood, hurried away in search of Sir Humphrey. He found the baronet and his wife and daughter seated beneath the pleasant shade of the bushes, where a cold luncheon was spread out invitingly. "If you please, Sir Humphrey,?* cried the old keeper, out of breath, "there's one of the lads shot.1' "Shot! Good Heavens! Where is he? and who is it?" "He's the one they call Richard Farmer,»' said the man, "and is lying out yonder." These words were enough for Millie. Without waiting to réassume the cloak and hat she had flung on the greensward, she rushed away towards the scene of the disaster, where she found Newton Rae supporting Richard in his arms. "Ohl Richard, dear Richard 1" she cried falling on her knees, and clasping his hand. M Oh! Mr. Rae, who did this dreadful deed?" Newton Rae boldly raised Jiis head, and pointed towards Harry Douglas. "It -was Douglas who shot him," he cried. "I saw him fire." Douglas started in terror as the horror-stricken boys crowded round him. "You lie I" he cried; "or if it was my shot that reached him it was an accident." "No accident,'' returned Rae. "I saw you point the gun. This is your second attempt at murder; let us trust Mr. King will see it is the last." By this time Sir Humphrey and Lady AUerton arrived on the spot, and, after the application of stimulants, Richard, who had fainted, opened his eyes, aud gazed round him in surprise. He had received several severe shot wounds in his neck and side. But how he could not tell. All he knew was that when he fired he felt suddenly an acute pain all over his body, and fell senseless to the ground. Newton Rae, however, distinctly reiterated his charge against Douglas. He said tbAt Douglas, who was behind Savage, raised his gun deliberately and fired at Savage; and he boldly expressed his belief that he had attempted his life. "This is a most serious charge," said Sir Humphrey, who had listened with anger and sorrow to the story of Douglas's attempted crime, " and -1 shall see that the matter is fully investigated. Meanwhile, boys, let us cany- Richard to my house. It is nearer than the jschool, and he may, perhaps, be better nursed Йоге. This was accordingly done; Harry Douglas, be It said, being told that his company would for the present be dispensed with. №е £>ther lads Sir Humphrey kept to lunch, for, with a true insight into human nature, he knew WßU that the lighthearted juveniles would the apartment with red and swollen eyes, and more hardened in his heart than ever against Richard Savage. Meanwhile, our hero's convalescence proceeded rapidly. Under the care of the best of doctors, tended by sweet Millie AUerton, what could he do but get well; and oh i how, in after years, he re- membered those first walks after his illness, leaning on the arm of his pretty nurse as they wandered through the leafy avenues and flowery paths. At the end of a fortnight he returned to the school full to overflowing with gratitude to his kind friend Sir Humphrey—full, indeed, also, of lovß for dear Millie. His reappearance at the school was greeted with enthusiasm; and as, from his window, Harry Douglas saw the kind of triumphal pro- cession which the boys made for him, he muttered to himself— "By Heavens I I can endure life no longer until I have my revenge 1 It will be insupportable, terrible while he is alive 1 From this instant I dedicate my existence to his destruction 1" CHAPTER XIV. UNEXPECTED NETVS. oonth after the shooting Foe a month alter tue snooting excursion which had nearly proved fatal to Richard Savage, all passed away in comparative quietude. Harry Douglas, shunned by his comrades, and every hour becoming more morose and gloomy, 0 „ had ye¿ no opportunity of wreaking his spite not be sufficiently depressed by the accident ! upon our hero; and he was compelled how re- which had overtaken their companion to pre- ¡ luctantly to look forward to the time when they vent their enjoying a hearty meal and aeon-| should meet outside the school in the fiercer battle tinuation of the day's sport. i ground of life. The cold collation was served to them there- j At the end of this term it had been agreed by fore in the shrubbery; and after it was over ! the father of Douglas that he should quit the Ezekiel pnce more took them over the ground. school for ever, and, meanwhile, a strict watch There was a gloom, however, over the party, -was to be kept over his actions, and Richard Sjayage, who had been the life of Richard Savage, meanwhile, was growing the party, being away, the day's proceedings ; rapidly in the favour of hie master, who was were brought to a somewhat quicker conclusion j delighted with his progress and his noble spirit, than was expected,. ¡ and prophesied for him a brilliant future. The boys, then, by desire of Sir Humphrey,: It was on the evening before breaking-up day £ook faome their prizes to form the staple of a j that Mr. King was walking with him, and grand dinner for the school, and Richard Savage ; giving him a few hints for the future, as well remained at AUerton Grange. !as praise for the past. Mr. King, having been summoned by Sir !" I know a great deal about you, Dick," he Humphrey, arrived there very soon after the ¡ said,"from Sir Humphrey AUerton; and I can accident, and, having heard the report of the | only Jell you that if you persevere in the course doctor to the effect that it would be a week or ¡ you have been pursuing ysu will be a bright so before Savage could resume his duties, passed into a private room with Sir Humphrey, and was closetted there with him for some time. When he went away, he was very grave, and wfren on his return to the school he sent for Douglas to his room, his countenance plainly ßhowed how great a storm was brewing. "Close the door, Douglas," he said. "I have a very eerious matter to speak about." Douglas stolidly obeyed. He knew well of what Mr. King spoke. "Yes," said the schoolmaster, "I have heard (and not, as you may suppose, from Richard Savage's own lips) your dastardly conduct of to-day. I really do not know how to express my disgust and anger. It is scarcely conceiv- able that a boy of your age should have such a vengeful spirit." "It was an accident, sir," *?aid Douglas, in a voice which trembled slightly, for he saw that a storm was coming, "It was not; do not add fasehood to your crime, for a crime it is," said the schoolmaster. "I have made full inquiries, and I find you con- demned by your own schoolfellows. I shall punish you severely now, and I shall write to your father to tell liim the circumstances, and request your withdrawal from the school at the end of this term." So saying, Mr. King rose and rang the bell. "Send Mr. Allen here," he said to the servant who made her арредгапсе in answer to the sum- mons. Radford Allen in a few minutes entered the room, whereupon Mr. King locked the door and took from his desk a long and stout cane. What followed I need not describe. I need only say that Harry Douglas quitted man and an ornament to your kind. I oñly hope that no dark cloud may overspread your path when your sun is not strong enough to disperse it." He said this just as they emerged from an avenue of trees, and entered the bright flower- garden in front of the house which had first attracted the notice of Richard on his coming to school, and before Richard could reply the iron gate opened and a strange-looking figure ap- proached them. He was a tall, thin, scarecrow of a man, some- thing after the style of Redford Allen, only older and more parchmenty, and more wrinkled, and with long, white hair hanging on his shoulders. He was attired in a coat, preposterously long, and, in fact, everything about him had an ex- aggerated look of thinness about it. This was no other than our worthy Dr. Щ11- brön, the apothecary of Fox Court, Holbom, whom wc have not seen since the 16th of Janu- ary, 1G97. He advanced towards Mr. King with a stately step, and then made a low bow. •" Mr. King, I believe ?" he said. "That is my name, sir." "Ahem! Well, my name is Hëllbrou, Dr. Hellbrön," said the other, "and I come from Sir Launcelot Ash ton. I would have, if you please, a few words with you in private." Richard Savage looked anxiously at the school- master. He, too, was anxious to hear from Sir Launce- lot. A look, however, from Mr. King restrained his impatience. "Enter the house, then, with me," said Mr. 3*S ,'.|гм: A OOA BUY* OF KNULANU voo a', t.пес О libo/, o^or A'o.ídy ; "a'-'.; y< ',o i * í <-м r* r% i. cum¡OH,-» o%Ví:,r-, V."í »Luil kb'.-'.V wanted' he ;ЬЬЬА. toauhg Флущ ыЛ ï:i и hov whiíOooo Savage was, therefore, compelled t feiií» oud w;ilk'4Í nwoy ЬгптЬьу widd «,п;„*!Г j ;н: ,í;í.í«t. CUrb'Mty. I "Л1 <,'ii't.:," ¡iV, ñlil'l : "thot. ( .¡íibO! 0<>, M At the pliyeT'Oimci door bo mot Hятту ïvni^înF. ! Kir.^r, yon will |><*г'«ь if, nv who Wim h«kiîi;/ onoMoody jvi.V an- *' Л word with you, Адуогул,'" Ы oro 1м»; h «joint: îo loavo tn-morrow 'j ROMANCE Of flEWCE HISTORY. I АКоЖ 'ПИ-; dAbbdFA" Г AdfA "n. ■ П ''* ' ' "V"" 'Л-!] У;,'«' >•><■% Ь'!Я1 i ООО I';,. i !у i i » f.. i i : • ; « f ¡ i j,OS*' V, "^A^^-o-ou- and Nr Humphry Ad-АмА^ ¡VU'M4 №»1чи f i,ouU NbiMc-o; b» Ь?Г Ч. /; - . К 0,0 .ОГО!-'О,! A ï »" 'V Í Loo ь;( ;,'íí, 1 ?o hr Sir ihohj.drov A>il<.ií. Iя о o«,; и I. 10" * ;m;5v !;;0.«; ** Wob. Í lu'-i, U • 'l¡- 0;,¡y A- fdío la;-: 1 1 » :, -' \\ • - j j; :»• ;¡" ЛИ')'* , I 0"Г(П;И ' ' ^О(Я0 t< \ г О ,0*.' iií'í i ,!!'■: 1 j¡'\ íj, Ш0 foob_'h? 0: !;:.'• r< «h'O ¿ * V* • Г11Ï' \\"'!|,'í.i 0rO;0r .' í i ivino:^'.'- » ;o h Ai n,< b;0", о '•',.*ом,/' hr ;,\ '( /; ¡ IVVOOt'rh' !.,,.-]» iirood ibis wdl; kdid oí .-,uv fíOH^» Idobooí S,V.»"o kli.ov H'*di d:;0 oowíii'd, i* ' i - !í<- nhvoy-i bad d.'.odo •'' win, îiOd !ío was ovi'h ^ídoiyo- ¡idí.-o'í o,¡o liad b<:"u ísctnaH-íl Ьу o 4i-fdo;u'<"'l t-'o.ii •!) íj -oí'1 4od<'0 oko'ro Twioi- ho h;iíI oU>o!t{.0'd hi-, SdV, To*- ilv-h ï idiu' d»-!d/iT;iO:!y *'?:'>оуо, >ii;h?H, ?so o«o, ihotvi'uïv, L'KVí' ц ^íг.i<î<■ г <<о Iii s OHv if; u.^0004 loio */uî al roih< ¡' M í-,do ho f;i'-S l»' fh'oooi.o' a i!<"dd • 100 I'd' ')' ,' ,k ! Ikivo isu í.ídt'oj i,*?; o< joca\ngi*, íjoii, t ¡y, *' í h¡0. ип i w'(- :.••,'!.» y< :i havo, aííoiojiO'd юу hó-, o: d í ío,< your O'O.v 'í\ ooo hr í'T ,oLíio do1 :í í[*x ot od,oht urd-','> Is hr th;h \ íioikí-ао«л hoi* < íldrl ir» «h-vf r,iy он-»'1 ¡ ífuíOV Ihjüy',;^, 0.0/." :d hîîî» by Il'n' LutO i < '; дч ;;;íj íóiodlv. u I swoiíf ít í,4 ooi но/* o> hnw I ¡un w,"i,h''o«v.l Oííd tí'i*atod itt IUI-, svlw, h I ' \ун-,м í »,d h ió -q" :'-"t hnv** ,->'Otvh a, ílh'Od í»-ít—<ч r!,'í'i;¡|\ ':-r ;! ¡ j О/ ;•«,,,■' »4 Wídl ordo; \ooo ¡(.a* ;oid ,;,-.,v¡;!,; ;i'1-: h¡ >•'>■'■"• •■}. woi or- ViMir oh, fho o! -o '0 oo». s :o- ( Л| ':: rí4" "1 îob'«v"* ( i'd!|t d,';^,1 '}\ Ai 1 \vm vr b'-ídyih , o-, s í!f .,•-.¡:o- .v-.'"'о, V'. „d" d','' o i Ido-v í dos, who, ovi«.:<'Ol; - I vwd'o- bhro :-id -'.4V;o- - ! wd) ! roo; vviíh o;«- л«;о í- Foíd i *t>í¡.rt . . d h'( ídrí, I S ' !■• tlo o*•cíar.o" ¡( ,. o;h ; ;;¡t •] j ff;-¡ l'h"o h<* ooí'rd ;«o oí-, lo1- !, !'O0 dodo* í.. o.,. .t,,j hiîil'-^d h OS 1 .¡ ■ \V <1 i Î, ^ ^ ^ ~- ,'.: ,< <0:"yd'' ood tbo -¡hi,-j!o«o,-0 r, oíd--- [ , tÍOí;riO'íy, :o;o v, d h ooohi 00í'0s«-í-, ";.'o(í .o^-o 5 a"''";1 i^-ÍoyM.* !y;o,r i^d* ^" L.^;o,-*y, ;¡. -o d4tr :-'.'dd i *' ifod-^-d í ! o|" o. o" Av ; • ■ lio. o-o¡o,: a. ''. i:.,!;.-..-. \ **Л:;»л i" s;./ i Mr. Kh';-, "thot hr,;00 i. i„ dd^o.h ;i, • , o,: ít;.,. lb>rr -s hh. S- ;í ,< /,< 'i 0. ;o;oi tU¡.- d i' , ,¡ — 0^ , ':' у "'\Л v' Л> !,«■ lifo o,, í o .'iOOh.í oo- ¡d.í j-.A \y <;.o<. л ív! ;"j '" ,\ <: afobr;í,i /Ы Ao'* » 'í * in- . ..0 :oh>!, !„•< U\\! -íi throne. Th'_' líiosi iшportant *:o'í-ot w;í8 <* l,ft:íAo;dy; yo'iï ».'on : fhi-oi;tni;oA-'of ti;-i Kmp' rt»r with Iv.'/^-nú* de 11 d! ;;;A;< . ihir.t« ,> í;f T.-b.'.. A «• d:uod OA' и: an J' ^ o-oai i;. , w;.;:jî is oodod î!o; rood /Of/rody--' d'ju! i^'-wid ?\r'* • or ího<: !bo'ri, !»i,s\j.o.--A i Ir' 0;0'i- * V"-, ii •гг.--OíííO ;h-sf ad\ ;oo: ¡O A * Í ■ oh- ido'rA*; ! - î hro' oa • ;oi - .;o- hy d,r "V lo- ¡,d'í 1Ай|,о,; : о ;,1 o, ^nh- >r,s, \", r< о 1 iir b ooirf í¡r .d-r|r!'i:;0 ir, i >r, ] v fi// ¡1 * O0i» Upu h:;:. око а «Ano t4<';o:oh ;oA, O'.oh-'o Aid . if ooo о h/Ol; OA! n\t "{ t";oo,;«'f o»-oï0 Id.i onnisod* ;ood looh^rd i У;0О0/гч *• büí О'Ол Í do h'Otihb lo'i-! ArO íoí,..".,-' Ar огоАч -oih \vi.;.d' ^ Л < i ;oí - Oy AO o o -A h'd oo !h<' h; \v « и i 0', ', ** bad.4 oí vî oo' o'oí; i-ooidid îi'O, ío,*<',vJi^o î'< ío'hionsoí ooio1' ho Aod. *• h к fosoovh *!; 0' : A - b d! ■M",- ■' iroo,;.- '" , (¡fin//; у/л■//>*'- < h :o:)' î.îo i' >n," M 'O..0 ''r ^ " orr i- wr;»i ort pn-ph. ií": ;A h-o ОнО v.or«- o.«-t. i'nr il rh;oo'od, oí, An- * ï Mí*' v ; Orü Ihr- r,'i,Jro, ioo ;OA-l»'ooo-o 0< \'>^u-w T'io'hi-y -ioô>.; ь! ioohood hrovhf i'o и очаго i Oos ''o -Ai Idí Oio.o ;ori í ;:o.r, '.' iArv-,,1 О* г hoy. a h,00O-»V Oí O j'< í'i '.'OI o!' Ibo>;, ;i, A-hi'A 1 hr Ari*;.0:a, :o¡d dviohr'v-r • l'b'OTih Oí:;y j| ; aJ'i-r otr.-vh :'! |. Í-í 1 Oí :¡r Oo- :n,'.\< O-;, !);d, • boAÍooiy ¡hV d:-. v/.'i oo íhi: *"'*'ri:-í' и hy oh- ! h-,<>yo of íí; • í.\," л íA'.o A; tío o 'Î do; ud;»*; • wiuV^íor he bo%r>tfoi'b 390 [June 1, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND, THE AbVENTURES OF A BRAVE IN SEARCH OF HIS FATHER. ! your advice, and'marked my man at every shot "ROY before I pulled trigger, and when I had emptied ■"u 1 I my revolver, I laid abot WILLIAM CHAPTER VIII. BENSON'S ADVENTURES AMONGST THE NAÜVAJO INDIANS. l[E recognized the voice as that of "William Benson, and, with a cry of joy, rode forward and eagerly grasped young Benson's exteuded hand. "Welcome—welcome! A thou- sand times welcome, my brave, my gallant boy!" he cried, tears of gladness springing to his eyes as he spoke. "You have escaped from the Indians, I see¿ But, in Heaven's name, how came you in this strange guise? And in the name of all that is wonderful on earth, who and what is that nondescript creature who appears to be your companion?" Well, indeed, might the two strange objects that had thus made their appearance excito astonishment. No wonder was it that Arthur Dixon had failed to recognise, except by his voice, his young friend, in the ludicrous figure that now appeared before him. The young lad appeared naked to the waist, except that his shoulders were covered with a soldier's old tunic, so small that it might have belonged to a drummer-boy ; which, being unable to thrust his arms into the narrow sleeves, he wore buttoned round his throat, and flying loose like a huzzar-jacket, leaving his naked chest perfectly exposed. His lower limbs were encased in Indian leggings, and on his feet were an old pair of moccassins. His chest was painted in imitation of the ribs of a skeleton, and it was only by the fair skin appearing between the streaks of paint that the party had recognised him as a white man. He rede without a saddle, and guided his mustang, which, bespattered with foam and reeking with perspiration, bore testimony to the speed at which he had ridden, by means of - bridle of strong, plaited rushes. Such was the appearance William Benson presented to the astonished party. His companion was similarly painted and attired, save that* ho wore no tunic, or other garment over his- shoulders, while, instead of handkerchief, his shaven head was covered by an old, high-crowned, white hat. Under other çircumstances, both would have excited the risible nerves of the spectators, but nothing in the fashion of garb is remarkable in the wild wilderness. Benson's companion was an old, lean man, and though his features were Caucasian, his skin was tanned as dark as that of an Indian through long exposure to sun, wind, and weather. His long, lanky figure made him appear even moro ridiculous than the young lad, and well might Arthur Dixon ask the question he did, "Well, he says he's a white man, and an Englishman," replied young Benson, laughing merrily—for he seemed to have lost none of his cheerful spirits—" though, except his white painted ribs and barnacles, not â spot of white skin can I discern on his body- HoTs been prime minister, and chief mountebank to the Narvajo chief for many years, he tells me, for he spedk English like a native; and, but for me, he'd be still occupying that exalted position." "Well, fall in with us, my dear boy," said Dixon, "and tell your comical old comrade to fall in also, and then explain to me how you got away from the Narvajos. And how, in the name of wonder, came you to be thus painted and attired?" "What I Don't you admire my looks? replied the young lad, laughing. "I can assure you that I was considered to be quite a beau by the young Narvajo squaws. I might have chosen the prettiest girl among them all for a wife, if I had fancied so to do. "However, Mr. Dixon, how I was carried off am unable to say. I recollect the skirmish in the old mill, and I remember that I followed about me with my knife." Aye, that you did" put in Arthur Dixon, I one my life to you—/remember that. But go on, my dear boy." "Well, at last I received a stunning blow on my head from one of the savnges. The bump remains yet, and I must have fallen senseless to the ground, for the next thing that I can recollect was awaking, as it seemed to me, out of a sound sleep, with a splitting headache. At first I couldn't think where I was. At length, however, I discovered that I waá lying at full length upon a sort of hurdle^ made of branches of trees, and was being borne along, at a jog trot, by four Indians. Daylight was just dawning, and I contrived to raise my head, and discovered that I was in the midst of an ap- parently countless multitude of Indians, many of whom were covered with blood, and bore other evident marks of the previous night's conflict. "We soon got among the mountains, and then the Indians stopped to rest, and to prepare their breakfast. They soon found out that I had recovered consciousness, and they gave me food, and spoke kindly to me, and, for some reason oí other, they seemed inclined to make a pet of me. They rested for a couple of hours, and then set off again; and now they made me trot aíóng with them, keeping me, however, in their midst, so that I should not try to escape from them, "Well, we travelled in this fashion for three* days and nights, only stopping occasionally for a few hours to eat and rest, until at length we arrived at their chief village, consisting of a great number of houses, or 4 lodges/ as they call them, standing well apart from each other. Some of them were two and three stories high, the upper stories having balconies running, round them, to which they ascend by means of ladders. There is also a large temple in the centre of the village, to which they go to worship. "On our arrival the old men and women and children came forth to meet us, and, I thought, seemed rather disappointed at the result of the expedition. However, they said something to a party of old men, who at once took charge of me, and led me away to a lodge near the temple, and sup- plied me with food, and made up a soft bed of skins for me to rest and sleep upon. "I was hungry and weary, and, finding myself well treated, at present resolved to hope for the best, and after I had satisfied my hunger I laid down and slept. '* The next morning I was led from my lodge, and perceived that a grand palaver was to be held concerning me, It seemed as if all the in-! habitants had assembled in the centre of the! village. "1 was made to sit down and listen to a lot of speeches that I did not understand, during which the speakers pointed alternately tö me, to the temple, and to the sun. "A cold feeling of fear came over me. Î could only translate their actions as an intimation to me* of their intention to sacrifice me to their deity! "After awhile, however, this old gentleman (pointing towards the old man) came forward and began to dance and cut all sorts of capers" round me, while the women clapped their hands ánd sung in chorus to the music of a wooden drum which the old gentleman beat. "Then he approached me with a long, sharp knife in his hand. "' Now for it,' I thought, but determined not to lose my life.without a struggle. "So I resolved to knock him down, snatch the knife from him, and do what mischief I could before I was overpowered, as I knew I must be at last. "The old man, however, apparently read my purpose in my looks, for, to my great surprise, he addressed me in perfectly good English, and told me it would be to my own interest to submit quietly; that he was only going to shave my head—for I forgot to say that he added the posi- tion of chief barber to his other high dignities and that the tribe intended to adopt me, marry me to a princess, and make a great chief of me. "'Oh, well/ I replied,'go on then. My hair will gr ow again in time ; but as to the remainder of their intentions we'll see about that by-and- bye.' "When he had finished his task, the old man danced round me again, beating his drum, while the women again clapped their hands and sung, and I sat in the centre of the circle, looking and feeling like a fool. "Then the girls brought pots of paint and brushes, and the old man madö me strip off my upper garments, and transformed, in a few minutes, into the guy I now appear. "I was then conducted back to my lodge, and left to myself till the evening, well supplied with food. "After dark the old man entered the lodge, and produced some sort of liquor brewed from the juice of herbs, which, though fiery and in- toxicating, was not unpalatable; and told me that he had come to keep me company through- out the night. '"You are a great chief now, and a high priest like myself/ said he, in good English. "'Oh Г I replied. 'Am I, indeed? Well, I should like to know the nature of the religion of which I am a priest.' "' I have been sent to instruct you," he re- plied. 'Bat, in the first place, I will tell you my own history.' "And then, to my great surprise, he told me that he was an Englishman; that many years ago—he had lost the account of time, but it seemed tö him half a life-time—he had been captured as I had been by the Narvajos. "Then he went on to say that, although he was very much respected, and held several very responsible offices in the nation, he sometimes sighed to be restored to his country and friends, if any of them were still living. "He added that he thought it very probable that he had a wife and probably a child still living in England ; and a son by a formet wife in the United States ; but, of course, he was unable to* say whether they were alive 'or* dead, for he had been suddenly seized by the Indians, while travelling in New Mexico, and none of his rela- tives or friends could know what had become of him. "4 Of course/ said he, 'tliey, if living, believe me to be dead.' "I sincerely pitied the poor f6llow, for I could perceive that he felt much more than he was willing to acknowledge. "* Why did you not try—why do you not even now try to make your escape T I inquired. "'Ah Г he sighed. 'That has ever been im* possible. I have been, and äm, toa closely watched; and I would not advise you to try. You would certainly be put to death if you were to make the attempt* I am used now to the life I lead/ he went on. * I should be happy enough if I could banish all recollections of the past; but they will crop tip, in spite of me. And, supposing I Were to escape and return to the United States, or tö my own country, would any one recognise? múí Would they even believe me to be an Englishman, if they were to see me as I now appear V "'Assuredly not/ said I, laughing at the idea. 'At all events, if it cost me my life, I shall try to make my escape at the first op- portunity that offers, and I would advise you, even now, to do the same.' i( He shook his head, and advised me against my purpose, picturing to me the hazards and perils I must necessarily encounter, and assuring me of the utter impossibility of success. "' What is your name?' I asked him. "' My name among these people/ said he 'is Macomo, which, in the Narvajo language, means "Great Magician;" for, you see, I knetf so many things of which they were ignorant when I first came among them, that they believed me to be a wizard. ~ "JJ44 You will reçoive a noW Пате on the appearance of the next new moon.' # "What is the old man's real name?" iriqmred Dixon. i£T "Well, really/' replied young Benson, « I neve* asked him. I call him Macomo. I shouldn't wonder if he has forgotten his true name. "To proceed with my story— June 1, ШО.3 391 BOYS OF ENGLAND. "The next day I pretended to be happy. I strutted about in my new paint, pretending to be proud of it. "I chatted with the squaws, several of whom, as well as the men, could speak a little broken English, and actually succeeded in cheating the Indians into a belief that I was really delighted with my new mode of life. "But I could not disguise from myself that probably a long period of captivity awaited me; for I did not expect that any fair chance of escape would open to me for some time, and I was not foolish enough as to - think of throwing away my life in making any rash attempt. "On the fifth day of my captivity was the advent of the new moon, and I was to receive my Indian name, and be adopted into the tribe. "This was regarded as a great solemnity, and the day was to bo a grand holiday. The young men were to vie with each other in warlike exercises, and the best and fleetest mustangs were selected for the occasion. "The Indians had no idea that I could com- pete with their young warriors in riding the fiery mustangs. They boasted as much, and I thought I might just as well let them think so* And to confirm them in their opinion, I mounted one of the animals, and after careering about, clumsily for a short time, I allowed the animal to throw me, amidst the loud laughter of the lookers on, and then I stood among the old men and watched the games. "Macomo stood at my side. "' Do you see those two young mustangs V he said, pointing out two beautiful, but evidently spirited and vicious young horses. 'Clever riders as our young men are, there are few among them who would care to mount them to- day. They are fleet as the wind; but then ten to one if they wouldn't try some vicious trick, and expose their riders to ridicule.' "Suddenly a thought struck me. í)7 whba i;;ote than any *v ucr - ïv-noat H, in tb.« %y(,nb b 1 (¡■l";'/;1.:-. Ь.Г<1 Пг:м,Ь- :-~ *' ;'.i • bíf abny tb* j-!'-t of í e und«-, ilia feííi:ntl. { Ibri of L~< beín-i tbiraty \\-M> exn.-^ of Ьнч- J drbb '.vb t soldier carried aJottg. who liad, и, Л Я11ГГ/>' bnSl, Ь"Ь,"*у <':i«î í i 1,7 Up b"' G wly, и br i']yyy <, г, bta". t.<. Î4-f'if.' in- dranb :u!ií ' !j ïiïtab Ьн i'iir <«ы a as tin - э trab 11*tí ас а<ч ;nîj, { Г (|iS0,OVf*¡4K i '-О Ь"ТнЬг aral b''!i' vv.bn' и ?K!.i ;» r< , a îMib à1 '! b "Л ар. a;:,~l pain, a ÏH'.irf, , о t»¥arib\v- illtí V Ьч [Г'-:;, mus s<*i!i I- m<*i!t -,, t..; r"'icv<', in njip,,- -ili-'i, ',<» íii.' wb<>ïll'"bi < nulc, as Sí Jií с V v.Mi-. !',д; л\ ' (;:ь<1 v, !,., ¡t TI- лиь-' -м Nr- \-'-' therlands requested of the -. •• V'^^^^^p (jtic;,. ;<:id < ,i !,:.- ü.'-Mm Ú'ií'lUÍ , til,Il íhry l;u;4Íí"u lu'tV' ;j:<» hoüeíb- of 1>U гу- СН: Lîîii tí î Ь<- f'.lib'iir * ; \ - -< ••i(Ti,-'" 'f tí; \Г /(Hi'l'ii- ííjciíí. .Bul l'l;:,';¿í.í ti!, ¡n ivgurcc<)va}>\: -íinioíiír, yp.v^ or'i-.'Г f--r b.'-". lr.:r;.ií her '.wti '•>:; Иг I-.ri*':'ü;*H$ Ш1Я ]-eiH,-;i!'! lin: .".ira'1 Ars.<■•«•.: г-1,? "Г of ?';<<' tren.-or-'-; <»f tl.c- fe/:-\ * (î;-;.-, ,t n y ^ ir; i^r 'iivy I',-,-, v. , t;>" . w n ii ;S». '.' -it-l - "-!)••!•:. \ "tj if;. r> :— "Mfu:;:::ftî, N< lÏAï.tL í::¡' H^avM';-, итА î 1 « * • Л"'5, Thí' ч«м!;(г.- íií. i tí f W' rbi bav.- и- 4 ;.• Si:-:»- Гдп^ ? ,f > i-, ь, {»',, 'Wy,:- ;! ¡' h' 't.; • "! i ^ TI í,i ;i í,i;i' 'I (<(••»• /,, » '•,•*,,„ *, ib' :, <:v I'-:' '/'«lint. 4 ' -h" í^íi;; Kc-{ vT,';mú ¡ir' f .í mЬ»»»Ы yívoi ii a í;...-»;íí^s оЬ!н.Пи'"4 ar. ' i, ; -, 1 • » *? m'.'-íí b ;i ¡, r'jíy'i :, <'r¡";i> г ,"Л' 'f'LVf муг'0.п W:^v.:( 'л: ;i •■ ■ ■■> iîiF- and ei'i.orniifj^ bis arms ■ '■ •'■ w • ■ ■ ■■■ idí "f tiîo (in ;icb;'»î apparition, saiiîi'; a; t i ! -ni r *:ï< : U hr< reached • ..y .( , . h- . .'■ ..-¡ lu "Warui^ and the chk;f officer у '-^Ф ф-ф- f v^-*' :Л i'y Mr "t- - i';'. H- ф-Ф- -• ^-v -4. V'. r' -:- у- il b^Ä^^ '*>•'-•: я- -M. í«m! '-.And. Ó; ОА;.П«»м:: r^pfn:ii Íí^wl'v ¡níía- etOmn, nn<] "«,"'< , u;y¡ î >к'г У- V'-in',- !!¡ ] 1 i ■ v- Ь :•: \v;í i- f ,-,!,.:y." [baílybiititwi •y.' ;-i'.< í'nt«:rf'd Iii-, г r.TB"«i;rttf»lr '-f.'i oui for í/Víiif !,'-у.ь in г^'л-ау. •b'ío.d.' le ti*ai yon .1*1.1 CUliíIdt "Oh, »0 ! r,f t'r.iirs*'! ludy. "^'jy -4'-! i;! iiüid,;- :ím .-!i:/ar('d Ьг«!м1 udiiîpt V кер' Ы$ ^уг^ 1 exporf^ * ,niy on f;h Yes ; and it is very much required. A Wheel weight.—(1.) We inserted the height tor all per- sons enlisting in the army a few weeks ago, the standard having been altered from five feet six inches to Ave feet eight. (2.) Generally speaking the master hands back the indenture* to the apprentice. Sex- -(1.) We cannot easily inform you, but we should think that you can procure them by writing to the secretary of the Law Institution; that is the only answer we can give you. Constant Веапев.-ТЬо meaning is that tho party thoroughly understands, and 1з capable of taking to pieces and putting together each and every part of an engine. What do you mean by a ** nice" profession? Of course, they do not rank so high as officers In the army, A Lawyer's Fao.—The salary of the Lord Chancellor, In- clusive of £4,000 per annum as Speaker of the House of Lords, Is £10,000; the salary of the Lord Chancellor of Ire- land is £8,000; and the salary Sir W. U. Bodkin receives is £1,200. A. Stevens.-(L) Yes ; when the time and space will permit us. (2.) The person to apply to Is Mr. Scudamore;Telegraph Department, Post Office, St. MartinVle-Urand, London. (3.) Enlisting In the army is at present suspended. (4.) Not OVCrl4. n The Misée op Liverpool,—Get tho weight of a sovereign, and then go to work and calculate the weight of a million: the same with a shilling or a penny. It willbo a delightml task for any mlsër to undertake the Job. Buffalo Bill.—We have not time to go through the numbers, but if you have the back ones you will find it in the answer to correspondents in Vols. 1 or 2. Not much; requires great Improvement to fit you for a situation- J,' It. S.—(I) You can have the number Écrit for two stamps. (2.) Yes, as a copying clerk. (3.) Consult No. 73 of the Box'a or England Journal. J. A. Smith.—(1.) Powdered alum. (2.) Edlu-" burgh." (3.) At about 14 years of age. (4.) Shortly. Lastly, it is more suitable for a merchant's office than a solicitor s. Lotal Ben.—Her Majestv the Queen succeeded her uncle, William IV., June 20th, 1837, was» crowned June 28th, 1838, married February 10th, 1840, and has issue nine children. H. Toms—The numbers of the voJumeoi the "Cottage Girl can be had on application to our publisher; it has never been out of print. G. T.—Andrew Ducrow.the great equestrian,died February 27th, 1842, and was buried at Ivensal Ureen. Shoee,—We regret that we cannot inform you tho publishers name ; perhaps your bookseller can ascertain tor you. Kino of the School.—The numbers you require can bo sent юг 14 stamps. '. W. II Brown.-It can't bo done, having appeared in an- Other publication. , . Tiger.—You had better consult your pipe-maker or tobacco- nist, who will advise you better than we can. J. L.—What " appointment" do you mean? A.-Ile is not tho earne Individual. T. J. B.-We are not aware that they are of any use. 400 BOYS OF ENGLAND. Г June i, 1870. An Actok's SoN.-Thcre were three great actors of that name, two of them Justly celebrated—John Phillip, born in 1767, and who died at Lausanne, in Switzerland, in 1823; Charles, born at Brecon, 1776, died 1854; George Stephen, who died In 1822; then Sarah Kemble, afterwards Sarah "Siddons," born at Brecon, 1756, died 1831. Fisher Вот,-There are now 220 life-boats belonging to the National Life-boat Institution. The cost of a life-boat, in- cluding life belts for the crew, skids, and transporting car- riage, is £480. The average cost of boat-houses is £200, and the maintenance of a life-boat station £50, and to maintain the large fleet of boats requires a permanent in- come of £20,000. Last year it was the means of saving 1,231 lives. Тиеее МЕват Men, who start with telling us they are "three Boys of England," will, perhaps, take our advice and stay at home. Get your parents to apprentice you. to a repectable trade, and become, in the course of time, welt- to-do English citizens. Half the persons rushing to foreign parts, tancying that gold is picked up in the streets, and diamonds on bushes, will find themselves grievously mis- taken. Earnest Enquiuer.-O.) About twenty numbers. (2,) We have already given the recipes for the making of coloured Arcs. It will be cheaper for you to purchase them. You can have the play, &c, sent you coloured for 8d.,footlights and slides, 4d. Той Sinnett.-(1.) Aclear description and direction is given upon all the tickets ; abide by them and you can't go wrong. (2.) You will see them advertised in duo course. With respect to your writing it is not good enough yet for an office. Bedlaw.—Tho standard of height for recruits for the army has been raised from five feet six inches to Ave feet eight inches. One iNTEEESTEp.-It is computed that in Great Britain there are moro than 21,000 persons blind; only 3,000 out of that number ате under twenty yeaTs of age. Jacobus.—(1,) At Warne's, Bedford Street, Covent Garden, price Cd. (2.) The price is is. 33., but it does not include the carriage, H. S¿ &c.—Look over the corresponding column of No. 48 for the information you desire. Beilli ant.—Diamonds arc being found in great quantities at the Cape oí Good Hope. Boa.—The bites of snakes in Australia are successfully cured by Injection of ammonia. Cbisis.—On the 29th and 30th of January, upwards of sixty thousand persons visited tho various London parks. Cue.—(l.) No; we cannot inform you. (2.) Apply to somo respectable bookseller. H. C. w.-lt can make no difference if you send up tho tickets properly. Uncle Ned.~.(1.) We think-the bath good until you can trust yourself into the sea or river. (2.) Very good. CASES FOR BINDING. Subscribers aro roquested lo observo that Cafes for Bind- ing the ;* Night-Guard" arid "alone in the Pirates' LAIR" can be had of the Booksellers for 8d., or 9d, post freo; and for "Bùpert Pkeadnougut" for Is., or post free, Is. .2d. Tho Volumes of the above Works can also bo had at the following prices :— "Alono. in the Pirates* Lair," bound in green and gold, Is. 9d.; or, 2s., post free. , Tho "NightrGuard," bound in green and gold, 2s.; or, post freo, 2s. 3d. ""Bupcrt Dreadnought," bound in blue and gold, 4s. ; or, post free, 4s. 6d. . ORDER OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. NOW READY, No. 4 of CHEVY CHASE; OR, THE BATTLE ON THE BORDER. Order of your Bookseller CHEVY CHASE. TOM DAEING; or, FAR FROM HOME. The above named popular and highly interesting tale, being constantly inquired for, will be republished in Weekly Numbers, price Id., and Monthly- Parts, price 4d.. Tho paper, printing, and pictures will be of the very best description, and a very largo sale is anticipated. Notice, theßrst numbers shortly. Be-issuc, In a cheap and* completo form, of the Popular Stdry. of tho YOUNG APPRENTICE; > or; THE WATCHWORDS OF OLD LONDON, In three Divisions at One Shilling • eachl Each division will contain, in addition to the numerous whole-page Coloured Picture's, about -24 Illustrations and- 200 pages of reading, bound in stiff covers, cloth back, &c. May be had from all booksellers; price Is;, or direct from our Office, t73, Fleet Street, post Iree Is. 2d. the mimic stage; Our Readers are informed that all Stages for the Plays issued by Mr. Brett 'will bear his autograph, with the following notice pasted on tho back :— "Mr. Edwin J. Brett's Stage for the Boys of England, Young Men op Great Britain, and Boys op the World." Any Stages that-do not bear tho above notice aro only Imitations of his Stages, and our Readers are requested not to purchase them. ■ '< GRAND GIFTS! GRAND GIFTS! WITH THE OP ТПЕ BOYS OF ENGLAND. IMPORTANT! Mr. EDWIN J. Brett wishes to call SPECIAL ATTEN- TION to the following GRAND GIFTS that have been up- wards of twelyo months in preparation, and although they have cost ONE THOUSAND POUNDS, NO CHARGE Will be made to the Readers of the BOYS OF ENGLAND. These. Novel and Instructive Gifts,, when finished, will measure 61 FEET LONG, and will be entitled, THE BOYS OF ENGLAND'S GRAND PANORAMA of OLD AND MODERN LONDON, from the BANKS OF THE THAMES. - An Original and Illustrated Record of Historical and Social Events, introducing many novel and startling effects, which will amuse and instruct our Readers, young and old. The Views will consist of Historical and Celebrated Buildings. 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"YOUNG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN" AND "BOYS OF ENGLAND" G U I DE -BOOKS, Price Twopence each; post-free^ Threepence. 1. GUIDE-BOOK FOR ROWING AND GYM- NASTICS. 2. GUIDE-BOOK FOR WALKING, RUNNING, JUMPING, FOOTBALL/ &c. 3. GUIDE-BOOK FOR FENCING. 4. GUIDE-BOOK FOR SWIMMING. 5. GUIDE-BOOK FOR CRICKET. 6. GUIDE-BOOK FO& ANGLING. . . Every Young Man and Boy who is anxious for good health should purchase these Manuals, the best and sim- plest ever issued. ORDER OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. NOW READY. Part III. of THE RIVAL APPRENTICES! A TALE OF THE RIOTS OF 1780. Price PART XLI.of the BOYS OF ENGLAND IS NOW READY, Price Sixpence ; or, Post free.from, our office, Sevenponce. Printed and Published for the Proprietor, Edwin J. Bbett, 173, Fleet Street, London, E.G. ItECïfeTEKED ГОЕ ТКЛХШISSif/N ABROAD, 402 [June i, 1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. This pleasure would have been damped indeed had they but known that a dark figure had fol- lowed them from the school, creeping warily along, and watching their every movement, keeping well in the shadow and crouching to the ground if one of the lads looked back. None of them observed him, however. Whoever he was, his dark cloilies rendered him undistingubhnblefrom the bushes. And so, arriving at the avenue, the boys pre- pared themselves for the fight. It was a very cold night, so they did not re- move their coats, but buttoned them up as tightly as possible round them so as to prevent their impeding their movements. f . . And so, without mask or other protection j the fight commenced. The sticks were long and heavy, but both the lads were used to them, and while Newton Rae and Andrew Marks looked on with eager excite* mcnt, Richard Savage and Harry Douglas eyed each other with wonderful coolness. The superior height of Harry gave him, of course, a great advantage. Savage had to depend upon his superior Activity and coolness. In this he was decidedly the best man, for whereas he was the challenged party, and only desired to punish Douglas for his presumption, the latter's heart was bounding with rage, and he had resolved, if possible, to kill his adversary ere he left the ground. To accomplish this with the Jieavy weapons they had was no difficult task, and as the first blow from Douglas descended on Savage's arm, he saw that he must use his. best endeavours to save himself pom broken limbs, "You had me there, Douglas," he said, as he made a feint. tl I must reward you for it." And, ere Douglas could parry the stroke^,ho brought his weapon down upon his adversary's leg with such stinging effect that he coiiid hot repress á cry. , t. "Welt hit, well hit," said Newton Rae and Marks, almost at the same moment. ¡,tí v» ú „ ¿ This, coming from his own second^ as^well as the second of Savage, сщscjd,á/4^rW¿Sl°}T^ hate within the breast pi Jflarry. Douglas;; ;}. e„ , It-made him trembléj and, lose so entirety, it mastery over himself, that again he so .falsely warded a blow that the stick of his Antago- nist descended with tremendous force on Iiis shoúlderf 4 This roused him to a sense of his position and the necessity of coolness. . "I am unlucky," he said, with a very sorry attempt at a laugh.. - -y<>4 . ,lt "Yes,** returned pavage j "because: you chal- lenged me in an unjust cause." ¡;л>!.. , t ¡. The slight diversion caused by these words gave Douglas an opportunity. ... v* \: You may be sure ho was not slow to avail himself of it. ^ \ Raising his single-stick quickly, he brought it down with great force on his adversary's left arm, almost numbing it. Had it been the right arm, the fight would, of course, been at art end. Ás it was, ere Douglas could recover himself, Richard Savage's stick gleamed through the air,, and came with a crash on his adversary's head. Harry Douglas uttered one groáiij and then fell on his back on the ground. ...^t. > I Savage dropped his siriglc-stick in affright/! while Andrew Marks knelt by the side of the j fallen lad, and felt for his heart. He could find no pulsation. "He is dead !" said he, glancing up in terror. "What is to be done now?" Richard Savage stood over him mute—trans- fixed with horror. "Fly, Dick," cried Newton Rae, seizing him by the arm, " fly 1 you have killed him!" These words roused our hero into something like a consciousness of his situation. "I can never return to the school after this," he murmured, confusedly; "if I do, I shall be kept there, when Sir Launcelot is so eager to see me. What is to be done?" *' Fly !" again cried Rae ; "we will explain all. I heard your friend—the one who came to see you and fetch you to London—say that he was stopping at the * Cumberland Arms' down the lane. Lose not a moment, for when we carry his body into the school, there may be pursuit." A sudden panic seemed to have taken posses- sion of Richard Savage, , , Not that he feljt á coward's fear. Former events had frcojedthis, but he dreaded to lose the chance of seeing Sir Láuhcéíot Àshton on the morrow, which most certainly he would tío if he remained. "Yes, I. had better go," he said; u good-bye, Rae. Tell the truth about this; tell them he challenged me. God bless you." Arid, after shaking hands with Newton and Marks, he turned hastily to go. Át this moment the dark .figure which had been watching them, and which, . during the strange duel, had been hidden behind one Of the large trees,, advanced quickly., f.^. "ííóld there," cried tîie ^new*co$ér¿ "you must return to the house with me.", , The boys recognised the voice ahd theforni immediately. c They were those of Rcdford Allen, the usher. "I have seen and heard all," he said, " and it is my duty to stop Master Richard's flight.' You must return with me," he added, turning severely to our hero* i ( "I will .not," returned Savage,. resolutely; "though I am innocent of .wilfully.^csiííng any real harm to Doigtas. ^ The ^investigation of this master would delay my visit to London, I must go." ^ ;t And he turned hastily down the avenue. . Redford Allen sprang forward and seized him by the arm. , . . But determination, to escapó gave our hero a supernatural strength/, . м , , , ti Quickly he , wrested . his ami away from the grasp of the usher, and as he endeavoured;iö seize him agaip, he dealt him à blow on the sidé of the' head which staggered him. *rlThcn he took to .¿his^eels and dashed away along the gloomy avenue* ' towards the high- road. :'; ь j. I am noi^páintípg ari idéal hero—a creature of iny own, imagination—-or I perhaps should have jnado;him boldíy¡ jítidj magnanimously return to tlioc hbusq, tfmtU-give himself up to thé tender mercies¡pft the wprthy^edágogue.; , t But as Richard Savage was a being.of fíesh and blood, he had thé usual weaknesses of humanity, a\nd was4 pyercome by twd";jMings—resolute de-; ferrainatiori,, to see Sir^Launcelot .Ashton on the,tnext day, and a horror of the deed he had done.-; ,; , „, i. jf-So, with (a swiftness .which was .incredible in piiè sq young, he dashed away with Redford Allen in full pursuit; я,; i, ÎhCiUsher,í though hèjwas not a, youijg man, had long legs, arid was also unincommoded by à superabundar^ x, v?t .Our hero^thëréfore, spoil found thai his pur- suer; was not orió id she laughed at; and, in fact, beforea quarter ^o^ the distance between the schöpLand the "Cumberland Arms J' had been traversed, he saw tnatjQight was useless. He resolved, therefore, on stratagem. \ Slackening his speed, as he came to a dark turn in the lane, h¿ threw himself on the ground.' ч .. iK.r The usher, of course, did not, perceive^ him in the darkness, and, dashing round at full $it, fell I headlong to the ground, .bruising his shins, and 1 rolling over into the muddy ditch. Ki. , j Our hero then spiking.üp, and once more! started at full speed for the inn. ^; The worthy apothecary was not one who rp: fused a glass on any occasion, and had met at the tavern several congenial spirits, with whom he was, in spite of the lateness of the hour, "keeping it up" in a'private room. When Savage dashed in at the inn door, heated and breathless, with a splash of blood on his white muslin necktie, he so astounded the portly landlord, that he stood for a moment with his hands raised in mute alarm. Then he seized Richard by the arm. "I say, what's all this? What have you been doing? And whom do you want?" Richard dicw a long breath to recover him- self a little. Then he answered— '* I've run all the way from St. Alban's school with a message for Dr. Höllbrön." , "Dr. Höllbrön I Who is he?" "The gentleman that came here this evening and took a bed—a tall, thin, old gentleman." "Oh, I know," said Boniface; and at once making his way towards the private room, beckoned Savage to follow him. "líere's.a young lad run from St. Alban's school with a message for you, sir," said the landlord, as he entered the private room. . "Alad front, St. Albans !" cried the apothecary, starting up. "Where is he?" He expected, at least, to hear that Richard had rim away* Here ho is," said the landlord," "and, from the blood qiihhim, any one would think he'd ! been committing a murder." . I I cut myself, fellow, as I ran through the wood!" cried Richard Savage, proudly. "Dr. Höllbrön, can I have a word with you in pri- rvate-r ■ ■ -:v 4 I need not detail this interview. îb will suffice tpf say; that its result was that Dr. Höllbrön has£iîy„pàid his reckoning, and, with Richard, quitted the inn aî>d made his way towards another tavern at some distance, whence, oh the following morning, they started for Lon- don; ^ CHAPTER XV. . OUT ON THE WIDE OCEAN. Befobe we commence to narrate the extraordi- nary opening.of .the career,of Savage in London, we must return for awhile to Sir Launcelot Ash- ton, . , We left him, as our readers will remember, standing, sword in hand, in thé centre of the room in the old house by the river* after his in- terview with Mrs. Brette the worthy mother of púr¡hero. Hp was, indeed, in à hopeless condition now. The. window was far too strongly secured to §iye..him any hopes of escape in that way, wh;iCi guarding ihe< house in other parts, was á tpdy of ruffians .strong enough to have prevented the egress of six such men.as he. {i With an oath, he, returned his sword, io its i scabbard, and paced íHo room to arid fro ex- 'citedly. ., What was now to bo done? tThe thought of his position nearly maddened him as he reflected on it. ; Йе had vowed to avenge the wrong done ,him by,Mfs, Brett he had vowed to befriend Richard Ravage, to^teithim his trae story, and to enable himj if possih^tàjiake that position in society to .which he had ,ä .right,, But now he icicle full force of the taunt which Savage's unnatural mother had hurled at Ьшь, ■•>;.*.} iiovr i ■ Truly^ Savage would njpw be alone in the world, , tíuffetcd about from ope to another, having no One to aid and ^dyisc hirp¡ jgnpraht .of his birth, htí would be uüerly, grimed byt his unnatural parent, and sini^into^u^ and poverty, while a word from Sir Launcelot could save him. , |u л.(... u. This word—if he were Ш captivity—could, of Course, notvbe cpnyeyed to him,;, ^ ílis reflèctiphs, maddening .is tlidy werb,¡ were cut short by the pntrance o^ Billj Harvey, alone. ."Well, Sir LaunCeiot^j' .hc, saidj as he closed the door carefully behind,, hi(mj Jf you've ucted like á geueiman.. j ^Ypu came in \hthoiit mäking any râmpàgb cir disturbance of Khy kind/ and so I :" And. söj ih.ponse^ucnçe, I am here a prisoner the Jiähds of .,anf.unscrupuipus ,%voman," said Sir Lariricelpt^i'Jt is ónpugh,to m^kpme question the propriety of being a gentleman!" ff SirwLäünpciöt Ashton could not be anything elsei'V .Tëturned ita man,, with a style of bow peculiarly his own', and( which seemed designed to dislocate his neçt, and throw his head on the floor, "You sec, sir, I .come to tell you that to- night you'll be putjäboärd ä wesscl as is bound for Ameriky^but if you don't make any rumpus you'U'btí treated as a perfect gehelman should." «'Hów^ídók here, ДЙИ Harvey^! .said Sir Launcelot; a.Jast ray of hope,;ihvaded his breast^,í; listen carefully,to me. , I'm a tolerably rich rrianj- and, Can Reward you well. If you let me escape from tins, âccuirsed place a thousand pounds shall be yours." June 1, 1870.} 403 BOYS OF ENGLAND. The man turned quite white at-these words. A thousand pounds to be all his own! If Sir Launcelot had said a million, it would have been all the same—just the same fabulous sum. "You stágger me, sir," he said, in a hollow voice. "I haven't forgot your kindness to me, you know, in the past, and I know you're a man of your word, and 'ud pay me what you promise. But you sée I ain't by myself in this matter. I must consult the others." "Aye, do," said Sir Launcelot, "and offer them another twenty pounds a-piece if they get me out quickly.1' "Ail right," said Bill Hárvey, " I'll try whatï can do. I'D bring you up something to eat and drink in a minute, but you mustn't be in a hurry. I shall have to sound them well." In a few minutes after this he departed, and returned with a bottle of wine, some meat, bread, and so on. "Eat, drink, and make yourself comfortable," said Bill, pulling in a chair, "and I'll do my best." Excited and full of nervous tremour as he was, Sir Launcelot drank deeply of the wine, and, as he felt drowsy, and Bill Harvey did not return, he presently threw himself on his heap of straw and fell asleep. When he awoke he' was in utter darkness, but a certain undulating motion of the room he was in seemed to indicate either that the house was being rocked to its very foundations, or that he was out at sea. Presently, at one end of his dark room, he saw a ray of light, and towards this he stag- gered. One glance told him, then, where he was. The moonlight was streaming faintly in through the porthole of a ship, and he was out on the wide ocean. How shall I describe his rage and despair? He shouted, and stormed, and battered heavily against the door of the cabin. But in vain. Not until morning dawned did,he Bee a human being. Then one of the sailors entered with some food. "What' means this?" he cried, advancing with a threatening aspect towards him. *' Where ami?"' "You're' a pretty good way out on the sea," returned the man j "and you're bound for Ameriky." "For America 1" exclaimed Sir Launcelot, desparing. "Then I am lost, ruined, duped, and poor Savage is ruined too!" Then a knowledge of his utter inability to escape came over him, and he sank on a seat dis- tractedly, i Being out now on the open sea where flight was utterly impossible, he was allowed to roam about the ship as he listed. At first he endeavoured to induce the captain, for a heavy bribe, to sail back or send him on board some homeward-bound vessel. But he soon desisted from these efforts. For some reason Or another the captain, who was otherwise apparently humane and gentle, remained obstinate on this point, and even refused to speak of it at all. It would be useless to describe the voyage of the " Ocean Child." It was merely a succession of monotonous days until at last the shores of America appeared in sight. It was evening when they called out "Land t" «áncí Sir Launcelot gazed in rapture at the far-off hazy bank which the sailors declared to be the shore. He imagined naturally that his captivity would now be at an end, and that, as soon as he stepped ashore, he would be at liberty to seek a homeward bound ship. In this he was greviously disappointed. No sooner had he partaken of his evening meal than a drowsiness crept over him, and, in spite of all his efforts to keep awake, he fell, a senseless lump, on the cabin bed. When he awoke again, he was in a covered cart, bound and gagged, and jolting along a rough and wild road. The horrid truth now flashed across his mind. He was being taken to the plantations. Were it not that I must return at once to Richard Savage, and the events which crowded now so quickly upon him, I could fill chapters with the description of his life as a miserable slave, of his constant efforts at escape, and his bitter anguish when he thought of his pro- tégé. At length Fortune smiled upon him. He fled from his master's house at night, and, after numberless privations and hardships, arrived one day, pale, haggard, heartbroken, at the house of the old apothecary in London. He had no sooner reached it, when he fell into a violent fever, from which he only re- covered after a severe struggle with the arch enemy. His first thought was then of Kichard Savage, and the result was the visit of the apothecary to St. Alban's School. On reaching Fox Court, Holborn, where he resided, Dr. Hëllbron found Sir Launcelot lying pale and ill on a sofa. So changed, so wan, so pale was he, that Richard could hardly recognise in him the noble and gallant gentleman whom ho had known a year before. "My lad," he said, as he saw how Savage had improved, "I am glad, indeed, to see you ; glad that you have behaved so well, and that your enemies have not attempted anything against you in my absence. The time has now come to reveal the secret of your birth to you. Then when you know it you must pay a visit to your mother 1" Richard Savage clasped his hands together in ecstasy, as Sir Launcelot Ashton spoke these words. "Mother?" he repeated, dreamily. "Oh Î Sir Launcelot, how sweet the word is. I had thought she was dead—that I should never have seen her face—never heard her speak to me in kindness—never have embrAced her. Oh ! when shall I see her? I know she is beautiful and kind." A bitter smile overspread the face of Sir Launcelot Ashton at this. "She is beautiful enough," said he ; "that no one will deny. But, come, we will have some dinner, and then I can tell you all." '"One moment, Sir Launcelot," said the apothecary. "Master Richard here, in his joy at the news you give him, forgets to tell you what occurred last night." Richard turned pale. He had really forgotten that, and now the bitter sting of disappointment entered his heart. How would his mother receive him, when she heard of the death of Douglas, for which he | might be stigmatised as a murderer? '"Tell Sir Launcelot for me," he said, sitting down dejectedly. Sir Launcelot listened in grave silence to the account of the affair as told truly and un- reservedly by Richard himself. "This is very sad—very terrible indeed," he muttered, as Doctor Hëllbron finished speaking, "This will furnish her with reasons for dis- owning him, for refusing to believe in his identity. I must not tell him now, or in spite of this, he will be rushing off madly to sec her. Wc must find him a safe hiding-place, doctor," he added aloud, "until this matter has blown over. Richard, I regret exceedingly what you have done; but let us hope that the lad is not dead. We will discover it for you to-morrow. Meanwhile do you know anyone who will take charge of him, doctor? He will be tracked here." "Yes," said Dr. Hëllbron, "there is a worthy man in Holborn, not far hence, a shoemaker He will take him for awhile, no doubt. I will see him at once." That evening, as soon as darkness fell, Richard Savage was hurried away to his new home, which he understood was to be his for a week or so only. How he would have shunned the very crossing of its threshold had he known all 1 CHAPTER XVI. Л TERRIBLE LESSON IN LIFE. Master Andrew Waxall, shoemaker, of Holborn, was a person to be remembered, as was also his wife. Short, round shouldered, and with a hump on one of his shoulders, he had, as is often the case with deformed people, an evil countenance and an evil heart. His hair was red and short, standing up raggedly round his bullet head. His eyes were small and piercing, though one of them was never looking the same way as the other ; his mouth was large, full of long, fang- like teeth, and generally distorted with an un- natural grin. His wife was his very opposite in looks. She was tall, dark-haired, sallow-faced, andas thin as a skeleton. The only thing in which she resembled him was in temper, and in the evilness of her heart. They were very gracious, however, to Richard Savage, as Dr. Hëllbron led him into their room and introduced him. He was to be the means of bringing them money, and so he was greeted with many hideous attempts at rude good nature. But his heart failed him, nevertheless, when Dr. Hëllbron quitted the house and he was taken to his little bed-room. It seemed like a return to the old wretched days with Farmer, the locksmith, in the cellar near old Drury. Dr. Hëllbron had given him most particular injunctions that he should not stir out, and so, as my readers can imagine, the time passed very heavily with him in his lonely room. For the mere sake of amusement, therefore, he asked to be permitted to go down into the work- shop, where he found two apprentices at work with old Waxall. They were both about an age, but while one was a pleasant, ruddy-faced fellow, the other was a thin, cadaverous, sneaking creature, some- thing apparently after old WaxalTs own heart. Tnese Richard Savage soon found to be Joseph Charlton and Peter Flaxmore. There was very little conversation between Richard a nd his companions од the first day, for Waxall only answered him in monosyllables, and both of the boys seemed somewhat annoyed —the one appearing envious, and the other malignant. T wo days passed thus, and neither Dr. Hölbrön nor Sir Launcelot appeared, nor, indeed, did a message come from either.' Richard Savage began to get nervous, the more so that on the third day the manner of both Waxall and his wife began to alter. Their civility ceased ; their words were charily given, and then in a surly, half angry manner. On the evening of the fourth day Waxall came home intoxicated. Always a brute, he was doubly so when he had been drinking. In fact, on these occasions he seemed to seek out chances of displaying his furious temper.' He wanted some ale when he came in, and, both the apprentices being on errands, he turned savagely to Richard. Here, you boy, go and fetch me some beer— sharp." Richard looked up at him in utter surprise. He could hardly believe the evidence of his senses. You forget, sir," he said, "my friends have ordered me not to go out even at night." Curse you and your friends too," shouted Waxall. "I want no lazy vagabonds skulking in my house. Go and fetch it, I say, or I'll make you feel this pretty sharp on your back." And with the words he unbuckled the heavy belt he always wore round his waist. "You wouldn't dare hit me," said Richard, boldly, "and I refuse to go. When my friends arc doing their best for me I'll not disobey them for you." "Oh, you won't, won't you? All right; we'll see," he shouted, and whirled the strap round his head. In another instant the heavy buckle would have struck our hero in the face. But at the moment Mrs. Waxall rushed between thorn. "Stop that," .she cried, in her sharp, shrill voice; "arc you mad? Don't you remember who he is? Do you want to spoil everything? Ca/i't yon ко it .*" BOYS OF ENGLAND. [Jone 1,1870. Theso words were said in a low, significant I voice. ) What they meant Savage could not imagine. Evidently, however, old Waxall understood their meaning well, for a hideous grin over- spread his features, and lowering his belt he replaced it on his waist. "You are right," he said, "quite right. I can wait, and when I have got him Ah! there I am again. Well, we shall see, we shall see." And so, with a chuckle at some expected revenge in the future, he went for his ale him- self. Another week passed. This week went by somewhat more pleasantly, for Waxall was often out, and Charlton, the ap- prentice, became a little friendly and communi- cative. Savage discovered at once from him the reason of the ill-favour with which he had at first been looked upon in the workshop. He had been looked upon as a fine gentleman who must be looking down upon and despising them. "Old Waxall says we shall be better friends some day, however," he said; "you won't like Peter though, he's such a sneak." On the evening of that day—the tenth during which Savage had been there—Waxall came home quite sober, but with a look of diabolical triumph on his face. He had evidently done a good stroke of luck at the expense of some one. He first had a long conversation with his wife and then called Richard Savage into his room. "Now, then, my fine gentleman, my lord, my aristocrat," he said, " I've got something inter- esting to tell you. In the first place, then, Sir Launcelot Ashton is dead." "Dead! Oh! say not that," cried Savage, wildly. "Oh, no, not dead, just Heaven, no!" The shoemaker merely laughed. "Yes, he's dead, sure enough, and buried, too ; and, what's more, Dr. Hellbron has run away from Fox Court, Holborn, and no one knows anything about where he's gone." A deadly sickness overcame Richard Savage. Sir Launcelot no more, and Dr. HöllbrÖn fledl ^4 He was alone then in the world. "Oh, this is too cruel, too horrible," he mur- mured; "and he has not told me the secret of my birth. Oh, just at the moment when I was to have heard my mother's name, and clasped her in my arms, he dies and makes no sign. What will become of me now?" Something in all this seemed to tickle enormously the fancy of Andrew Waxall. He put a hand on each knee, and, eyeing Richard Savage with an offensive leer, fairly shook with laughter. "Your mother, eh? Ho—ho 1 that is good— good—rich. Your mother clasp you in her arms I Oh I this is good—good—too good! As for what you're to do now," he added, when he had somewhat recovered his equanimity, "you need not fret about that ; that's all settled for you. YoxCre well provided for ; never fear!" "Provided for—in what way?" asked Savage. "If Sir Launcelot Ashton is dead, and Dr. Hëlibrôn has fled from the city, how am I to receive any provision that Sir Launcelot may have made for me?" "Oh! dear, dear t I never laughed so in all my life," said Waxall again ; "it is comic—very comic. Provision, my lord; I'll see to that. I'm your master now. This very night you have been apprenticed to me by your friends, and I'll turn you out a first-rate shoemaker in no time 1" The brute knew well what would be the effect of such an announcement on Richard Savage, He had planned the whole scene with a fiend- ish malignity. It would be such a glorious treat to tell "the fine gentleman" who had been educated at St. Alban's school that he was, after all, to be a shoemaker's apprentice. Richard Savage stood up before the shoe- maker, white—even livid with rage and despair. "I will not believe it; I will never believe it," he cried; "and if it in true, I will never consent to abide by it." "I guessed the same ; I knew what you would say," returned Andrew Waxall, "and I am pre- pared for it. Look ye here. Your friends have bound you to me for five years, and if you try on any games with me, I can have you up before a magistrate, and send you to prison. I've had enough of your airs, 'and I'll show you now what I can do." "You may do as you please," returned Savage; "but I can promise you this, you'll never get me to stop here for five years, not five months or weeks, I trust. Besides, if Dr. Hölbrön has fled and Sir Launcelot is no more, who¡are the friends who have the power to do this?" "You said you had a mother?" "Well, but she, she is a lady, and would never place me in the position of a dependant to such a ruffian as you." The shoemaker sprang up with his face purple with rage. "Come, no more of that," he shouted. "Your mother lm$ placed you here, and here you're going to stop." And then, as if to commence at once to prove to his new apprentice the power he had over him, and the manner in which he meant to use it, he seized him by the collar and began dragging him to the door. Resist most certainly Richard Savage did, and to the utmost of his power. But, as I have said, Andrew Waxall was a very powerful man, and strong as our hero was for his age, he was powerless in the hands of this brute. Up the stairs he dragged him, up to the door of the little room, and then without a word he flung him in with such force that he fell against the edge of the bedstead, and rolled, bleeding and half stunned, to the ground. "Oh! Just Heaven! this is terrible, most terrible!" he said, as, after a few minutes, he recovered himself sufficiently to crawl upon the bed again. "Oh! how all my hopes have fallen! How cruelly have I been deceived 1 To look forward to a great and glorious career and to find myself the apprentice of a brutal cobbler! But be lies, I know he lies. My mother's name shall be told me, and I will see her ; and if she has placed me here to punish me for what has happened to Douglas, why, I will plead to her to forgive me, and she will." There was a consciousness in his own mind that he had been too hasty ; that he should have asked Waxall quietly the name of his mother ere he called him ruffian ; but the mischief was done now and could not be avoided. At any rate he must be patient until morning. With this feeling at his heart he lay on the bed striving to sleep, but it was of no avail. Wild thoughts whirled through his brain, and at length, unable to endure himself longer, he sprang from the couch, resolved at once to escape and ascertain for himself the truth as to Dr. Hellbron's flight. With this resolve, he flew to the window, and threw it open, knowing that the drop thence to the yard was but short. One glance, however, was sufficient to show how useless all his efforts would be—one glance was sufficient to send a thrill of doubt and horror through his breast. The window had been newly barred that day. He was not only, therefore, an apprentice, but a prisoner, and with bitter despair and anguish gnawing into his heart, he closed the casement, and once more flung himself upon his couch. (To be continued. Commencod in No. 178.) A GREEDT man should wear a plaid waistcoat, so as always to keep a check on his stomach. Wanted to know—what interest view pays dis- tance for lending him enchantment. "Let us remove temptation from the path of youth," as the frog said when he plunged into the water upon seeing a boy pick up a stone. A queer man—the baker, who kneads much, and yet sells everthing he kneads himself. "It is loanAy here," as the sentimental pawn- broker's daughter said of her father's shop. People born blind are unfit to be carpenters, be- cause they never saw. "I ïïave not loved lightly," as the man said who married a three-hundred-pound widow. THE BRIDE'S TRIAL T is strange what different estimates people will put on a man's character, ac- cording to the eyes with which they may view him. In the opinion of some, Mr. Benjamin Benedict— not our hero exactly, but the next thing to it, his uncle—was a gentleman, a scholar, and a philanthropist; while others, quite as well qualified to reason and decide, wondered that such a monster was allowed to walk the earth unchallenged. For old Ben Benedict was just the sort of man to provoke and please in alternations—a human March day, with streaks of sunshine and chilling gusts sandwiched through his nature. People who knew him liked him passing well, but it sometimes took a life-time to know him as he really was. "You will be sure to like my uncle, darling," said Hugh Benedict to his young wife. "He is eccentric, but he is sterling." Rachel did not answer, but her blue eyes were wistful and full of perplexity. Uncle Ben, whom she had never seen, but of whom she had heard much, was to her an inscrutable riddle, whom she feared more than she was willing to acknowledge. For Hugh's future depended to a certain extent upon Ünclo Ben Benedict, and with Hugh's future her own was bound insepa- rably. She was a fair, fresh-looking girl, with velvety cheeks, bronze-bright hair, and features as cor- rect and delicately cut as a cameo. Hugh was quite certain that Uncle Ben could not see her without loving her; but then theso young hus- bands are not apt to bo impartial judges. She was sitting in the fire light when the old gentleman first beheld her, and the only warning she had of his presence she saw reflected in Hugh's eyes, "My dear, how do you do?" said the old gen- tleman, kissing Rachel on both cheeks. And she thought he was not so terrible after all. He turned to Hugh when hG had thus uncere- moniously made himself acquainted with his new niece-in-law. "Well, young man, are you ready to go home?" he asked, brusquely; for be it known that the old gentleman had given Hugh and Rachel a wedding present of a new house, wherein they were to live. "Quite, sir," Hugh answered, cheerily. "Shall it be to-morrow?" "Yes." "All right." And Mr. Benedict sat down to spend the even- ing and enjoy himself. "Well, sir," said Hugh, when his uncle was taking leave, and paused on the hotel steps to light a cigar. "Well, sir?" said Uncle Benedict, calmly. "How do you like her?" asked Hugh. "How can I tell?" demanded the old gentle- man, irritably. "She's pretty to look at; so is a China doll, or a white kitten. It isn't always the prettiest calicoes that wash the best. Good evening." And Hugh Benedict, albeit he was very fond of his uncle, did not know whether to be vexed or not. Early the next morning, however, Uncle Ben made his appearance breathless and eager. "Trunks packed, eh?" "All but the last one, uncle." And Rachel lifted her pretty head out of tho tray, as you may have seen a red clover blossom rise up from beneath a child's footstep. "I'm going to take you down myself, my dear," said Uncle Ben. "Hugh, I want you to go express to Liverpool with these letters. They're of importance. I'd go myself if I were ten years younger, but sudden journeys don't agree with old bones like mine." Hugh looked aghast. Rachel turned pale. "Cannot the business be postponed, sir?" said Hugh, hesitatingly. Л г s I. 1, WO.) boys of knolanix *• Xot ií cüii't,'' replied lkn*k Ikn, viïyi l y» ^ It îvmaimn^ hbn-»a а:и; Ь-!( 'л/.л ;i «-ra1»,, a» i:;- you don't want lo go, say ,ч, I «Iure say I eau «fî.-iir.-i : ♦* but tï aík ии<и -vt ka'd v, ith a ;ею.., - îuif! s»mío oí»', oke to obîi г and half-a-d« zun sauvwk* ** i, 1 da; a: a ai * i.* .ю b¡ u«;,L(í Ьюаа! )»;<•,, ha, --ana a,,aa^ bnieyirl ido; i liât,'' sai'! I'jír;.- Ik-n, m un ni:- \bi ; , r f;ijry divan.*! grieved t»mo. *; Walt îiïi.i ns k-dij in íbo new! the hozvj buck iban аЬю kan аю Sü-mí', with tue kettle bulling, and the tank: svt ; Pu< m » íor tea, when }ou готе bark í" j дпЛ í'or un beaant our рм-r ibko ben/м- Mr л, ill, о.ю whs îail lihif( f.'.r i; baa k>r Hi.'.'L a.'A,* A -a»' o, a.>i aa «•< ka а,е/ю:.'ааа' ;' :;. aab kk> his hike* brida » hubV.-.av 1!' tin: • ч and ! aai Гас!.; каюеа .a j inei.y 'hat sao <• i b : a î eooasuks'kn I nek Hon to. takt- the bust povdble j .vpond b'T days aa a, hovel hk I - b. i'iiW, of hor until Îk: should roinan j but- th«n сити*', л«»!нт second thoughts, "Ponb/îi i'bíЬIren V" said Mr. Ibaakia, us lie ] î aek ikno ib': a ad пеаша ably; iky avaro ,-soa Iktehol юЬЫпуиП HuaubA Ana;! aaa 'V '■ - '■ < < -'-'""a; * > ЬАа>чоа o ab > »^a l'ail :Ь<ач; wa,s a ch*vry !\'Л,аЬ ¡.: ',-, :¡ s' bava 'írny *;>(^ la-varí iabr,-,-. Na-, -bija laa1-' ;aaa< i tili y •<■].!. I !,>• ja" • a:, ia í.aa!-. ;-"b I'tKif Httb; ^'b'i! th«" a;a,.,-'iaae laai b»,sî iba ^ynbi in -aib«/:! ;í was a:ivî-ïi, aa-i <■!,,■ -t. ba basa, ab somewhat oí* its sparkle, raat t Ь«* witIií iut»ke.d the bud all ber a-i»etlioib- .-ни! imambtbit- re- • ** < )i> »: brii'lit, а к bau jam л^у « а ЬчупгЛ ta a' ?u-\v pitbat/.-, hi.-HM' with I jab-- ik-h"." .и \v-í ,tttx. i natibig at í "I f"M v-a it ua- a out? a" , \-. . ku< uí« I г-a -: ,\- tlia aaîraaa t.wi• îinbt boaaiti lu fab, brt' i aouchtF bccanio bu«y, a-- a wuinaa's will, at baa-.'-a "(b»o!a," ^Ьг aaibjf tarabaa' >a.ab-iby tu- \\ a va, tita cid a« allcsnaii, t: what Fori *'-î a hon~a is it / (>ia',s, I naamb* - Wall." said fnrba id'a, ,'4;Ib,'í'íivi'!\a *' bb.i a rHtay4*, 1 4übb vih-d itaab"b "Г?а irbtbs, I Ь4м>|ила thus*' n« w, slid paia-'S laai luok ah d ibty wav va; y. 'y t' i h1' adiai í Г',!, not bved i a, aial rhj« л'-.-Л. Idaoíc, whaí art' you laa;a,bíng al a" 44At 'your ciuiusíty» my dear I" '•^ Then i w.abt ask aa.aiaT (picstion," said ka«'*hi'íj ra'Snlab;Iy. Ida sha î'ub;» a1 oik-Л fur tkat deprivation by skclcldiia: o!i 1 ha tablais of her owa îhîh'Y an .-и -a*' vv-.-oi in г***!, a,,,-br the eafii - aa aaioamaîii waaba iaa:-i aava* -mlaaiid), Idiala lien Benedict n \ ..... :y as.^tbc iS'-»/r \\lien. Eachel • ><■!; a intiCf, îimiwr up the road, а г b ,f- о by a mend of mine," a.i ba<- d'.abahaa- Kaa l»aahar air vaara b:*-aa aab .-ral.a-.' bade to rar w«aa'kd iiHJe .•ridu; a:.ai a picture alter tire style ul* Watteau a.vudî d 4 К( aa ba lb'- >.-x»pd:bd' a.atraaa, vriih its ioi p paaoa;% Ьму-'-а^аааа'а. ana» ] b-t aro^aiby i/hi r;aa lata ;l bay еаЬам>'Л"Ь"Т'л1 «y a, b.'i.t «,{ ;.a!< -, 11 %лсн;а. t,o«'«ki«;i> ioaiinubY rocnd тик ккпм-жумр ;-аот vara, ly of diîb' j sí-.ud oa, liic door-лЦ'р waíiiay |«д- ta.- о.,„'а lo > (butbi«* <ачча ions, with bay windows, and mb- | opeanai. Ii*.« #vv*'.rwi wiiii ailiiibiiij, io;=aa» and W»<',\- * Ves, í f- aow, saoi Fuokb/s : wbiîo idifia líoiHídifi wataba'-l bor frei it wííli bjiydtt« asa,-/ bohbíd ibí* seiv.oii oí; bis biowa .,]d fa«*-a proy< rly traíii'-d." "T*m ahm .-sí sorry 1 aoiaiiKaavb tho f ahaab" ba *' H1« nabar Íni-.o^iU;. said ttj bimsaíí. u íí 1 s/wvid be aisappcdiitod in J ** i like the country, b<-r! Bal, pí'adí ! ítbí ïaa «иay Vv ay \-,> bud oui í-aby. if sba is worth toy Inn's k* spikr a aaip'di ^ Preaiilltly lia;'iaîiiborÎa^ 'd*d ^aaaatry M a «.y | i<« kt ti»-m hi» and it »i tao wa> iytae 1д:л, .•¡do' tu а иамнЫШ—buk b. Па* bt-i'h surprb* . ' a |rra* n-pa; d aparna^'-.k waiî a a.'1;' \r\ frota of no fairy aot, or iow-fam-d cnihb'" г jfrnin rarpet or, and a. bro m tbo Hiv,- :,дп.ча,шЬ»а1 h»y verandiPí and 1ал\а ï par,em-s. , pbu-¡ i bal emitted еми ddciubíy more *\m -he Л tujuble-ibAvn, iiíipabíiad farm-]anise ,aood t^an enlorie, a, Hub? back írom iba ruad, with its shutters '• u Smukey Ынпнмгу«. vh sakî l пей: Bf*!.. ) *£ That's only « little i/ ¡ke of imbue. This is tbe гиги нише, mû! 1. javo it to you with all the more p,--usuro 'b,o you va !v di-p.'M d 10 laako the a-ifiiob <.b;ao'.b..;,.: r,.aad « -л •■í,b" ;.'4-a 'oaíya.bí \ ¡.a fani'/bt JoU weî'e in "Thaï i> a vory ob' iff . baa Ai y boar, îhe i-Miitoai« b¡ miad, y un possess víiakaa, it it \va;-> only _ a- worth a :boa.-aial a<,a>o;k" Ami lba<-ak iiat>,i/îia î idny warm arid wo! upon "^чааП'а.'к !!• ;;. ^ • i.or ^Ьеок.^ bba^a l.^as, as îi,e old .уанйешан ; \\ n'.'ii U a; ■ caiao ín.«*d." î'obi4j/e*in tbe wind! _ \ "l. had.bt au> .doa lb' »'« V, v. Л \s oibswopt, niuta wiijn-ss oi пу-,.а;ие day*, ; granbub-d liai ola aaua baaaaa towa>rt>d up in the roar, and a oat dai1*-d гин'аа*' ' "it's partly Ik- oJlorl He i-ip the e« bar wiiokavs as tbe slap* stoppod. kae wail paper," said bbabu i. a'db ** How dr-oary it looks!' !h«;Upht iCn«d:.-b wd it J !he red a,ad i^r^-a п.. usn<-shb л a bttk-, phndder, as sha abano<-d round to soo ; siripod paest china," \ I : и t neither slirrod, said Ikkaa, •* Wide awake, then:!" oaiiod o«î tía- екюи." '* M y doar," said î io' uki p'U.i a!n.n„ *• i "a¡ai>, v man, and ldude Bun seized hk earpoi i»ag unti ! ynu aro tio.toradned tu Ь- pieae- d. ko you • timbaban , гч a:iy îbiîb: \..а kaa,a. bbo ]/iao,-k "Ьишс. lay bnarb' bo л-uid í.^ IhiCíabd , "I sbab I i a < any [b;o'o w.ae.e ï î aiba i>, ' ^aid Slif started in«rinctiveîy fm n ard. "iînehel, Ьп>Ьт)у.' 1-й íliis iba |;ia-'o ,;" % :>íie wí ni a.bi uvr 1 ho» iaai-.- v.dt ;» Í bo .b ! a' ro uThis is the piaoeb* k'ncio Ben aasws ivd, *kmau, p!amdn,tr improv. \rj ipN ulr< i with a Kiidnden paroxysm of roiïf'-hiîo.a *4{дте*я • mnmyinsr, mrrií ho rrady bojrart to thin к «h^| a little out of ordi rb' as thai basoiai mode of Woakl inake an Areata ota •! tbo worn- br ba' a.aa-if,..-yarn's aa do' bilk jowe! ihat And ik.-o"- iva,; ,v, ab«' »oî., kaat bis yoang bad W! .i the eaia'ifauas uia gcütk-míOi'ií baa! • bom daaoiy ¡copio arc more :''b"- basb i. bj.s, oa, iba ap'ound that ooí4"4s became siubkaby deíaebe-i iivm Iv: laiaaa AjA ií ,k.',' ,ba»-o u p -л j.'j, a, asaaeo ui ■ i>¡-< v!tj k ü.e souí «a uit. 'A narrow; \Vii\i' aa.rai b ••-n el • a wenthrr-«'* ek a • olsar-ái .'-araab! a-.aí laa^tdv iadiratio "VI ■> rcii/í to Л Mo rua: í апкетЕН,—»Лп ora Lor kddkpj ortit i» htv'Hir of *' woman—í tear, di viae wom»^' '"ueíiah - id a is %«oh, ray hearer, depend upon it, « :kky to;a - .t ;a ,,d \s ib%" i baa У'-ur pardnud' ■opiied .a,< *a' bk ааЛ1ьл>-, a had. hmbaaidoesA* Л in.w.NT wvnt iuto a iar^e eity, and, among .tkor ob.b-o; . that --a ruck lbs foaey, was a*»esfced by . baab' .а о;Гю«'5 wÎh.to hi; saw роорЧ go out шй ill л,о, ..; -¡..aro' ,.av y.-od , a¡a..»lrouAy a a¡ о! bar k.,p îîo v.-iaa-'d'io »'!i;o' and ask tbe teller ana.; vao >oA kaaoa Л heads/* was the oa?-abao ansvo-r. ,l What a basan» you must koo-r" asi tbw. yu-íaa "J .as- y. a haTebutonA 406 [June l, I8fâ. BOYS OF ENGLAND. TELL ME. Iïow to put the question, TVnch me, hmnminir-bird— You who win all Rwet-tneps, And nevf-r вау a word! How Птя1! 1 come noar her? Tea' h me. wind о» Мну— You wlm tov wan apple-blooms, Nor brush the down away. Shall I bít)£ or eay it? Or do еуея tell best? Nay, it is already Л secret half confessed. How to win the answer— For I am sure she knows— Tell me, dew and sunshine, How you ope a roso? RODNEY'S QUEER WILL. Щ Щ H RODNEY KNIGHT, having full possession of my mental faculties, and being oppressed by a presentiment that I will not return alive from the journey I propose taking, feci that it is my duty to .make a disposition of all the worldly goods the Almighty has seen fit to bestow upon me. "To my friend, Guy Howard, in whose keep- ing this document will be placed, I fiayé given full written instructions in regard to my wishes, which I am sure will be obeyed to £heJettcr." "To my faithful servant, Betsey 3¿równ, I hereby bequeath the sum of pyr'p jhpnsand. pounds, deposited in the savings bank of taw- rcncevillc, to be placed at her disposal one montjhi from the date of my decease. "To her son, Jason lïrown, I bequeath the sum of one thousand pounds, in consideration of the long servitude he has rendered me,' "and of his ever ready compliance with rny desires. "To each of the several instijtu^ons. Orphans' Home, Society of Relief for jthe ^esgtiite, and Farmers' Agricultural Club, of Jjaijrönceville; also the private Asylum for the^JIopelessly Insane, and House for the'Superannuated, in Beaver County, I bequeath ;the sum' of one hundred pounds. '' "Fifteen hundred pounds I place in the hands of Guy Howard, to be used as lie may deem proper in alleviating the distresses of the poor wherever he may find them 'descrying objects of charity. *' Having no near kindred to inherit the bulk of my fortune, in all about seventy thousand pounds, I am necessitated to select from among my distant relatives some person or persons upon whom I may bestow the above-named sum. "These relatives consist of my cousin, four times removed, Andrew Hale, his wife and two children, named respectively Eva and May, his widowed sister, Margaret Bennett, and her son Abraham, and the orphan niece of her husband, Vivia Earle. "Being entirely unacquainted with these per- sons, I have no guide by which to bestow my wealth upon the most deserving; and, as they are all in comfortable circumstances—though I dare say the acquisition of several thousands would be a welcome addition to the possessions of any one—none actually need it. "The difficulty arising I have endeavoured to dispose of by prescribing a rule in a sealed clause of this will to be read one year and one month from the period of my death. This rule I have made known to my two friends, Guy Howard and Willis Grant, and to them leave the selec- tion of those who, without any hint of the nature of the requirements, shall nearest comply with it. "Conventionality decides that the dead shall be mourned for at least one year, and it is my sincere request after the expiration of that exact period all my relatives herein named shall again mingle freely in society." At the conclusion of this rather remarkable document, which betrayed contempt of lawyer's aid in the absence of 'legal phraseology, there was a general stir throughout the room, a little indgnant flutter of black-bordered kerchiefs, and wondering glances exchanged by the expectant company. Evidently there was not one possessed of a clue to the mysterious precept of their eccentric relative, and the two gentlemen seated at the upper end of the long drawing-room betrayed no expression which might serve as a guide. Rodney Knight had borne the reputation of being a stern, cold man. Some early disap- pointment, it was rumoured, had caused his retirement from the world, and for years he had lived alone in his grand, gloomy old house, with a few friends, and even among these there was not one to whom he had confided the story of his embittered life. A courtly gentleman was he, judging from the full-length portrait which it had been one of his whims to have executed before starting upon the fatal journey from which, in accordance with Ыя strange premonitions, he had been brought back a lifeless body. Mutilated, they said, beyond all recognition, and identified only by a pocket-book found upon his person. The ebony coffin had not been opened upon the day of the interment, and the little assembly in the arched drawing-room could gaze upon the pictured lineaments before them with no phan- tom of a remembered, deathly face to cross their vision. The solemn business of the day concluded, the guests departed in a silent, decorous man- ner; and the great house, more gloomy than before frpm the absence of the master-spirit, was left in charge of the old housekeeper and her son. Rodney Knight's eccentricities were freely discussed next morning at the breakfast-table of the Hales, and many were the conjectures hazarded as to £he nature of the regulation he had Fct apart to bo followed. **íf we only Jmew more of his habits we might £orm some idea. Ijut, as all our advances jtowards acquaintanceship were ignored by him, that source of "information is closed against us/?, and Mrs. Haíe gaye her head an indignant jerk, to indicate that jthe Joss arising from the non- cultivation of an intimacy withfhe family had been much greatest'upon the gentleman's side. "One thing^ we'lsnpw'jv remarked her husband, "Rodney Kniglil accumuiatcd'hjs fortune by a steady attention * to business, and by â slow, regular system of saving ascertain per centage of his profits, which he never allowed himself to break upon, no matter what might be the exigency. It seems clear jo*nie jbhat the rule laid down must be to economise closely,* or, at least, to keep the expenses in proportion to the income." How much of his version Mr. Hale had derived from the fact that his wife's rather extravagant inclinations had been the only incubus to prevent his taking a place among the reputed standing wealthy firms in the city, it is not our place to observe. "There is reason in what you say, Andrew," she remarked, reflectively. '* I think I can dis- pense with the new parlour ornaments I had set my heart upon getting, and during the next year the girls and I can dress very inexpensively. People will never know if we have two mourning- dresses or a dozen, and we can easily find some means of acquainting old Mr. Grant with the fact that we are practising rigid economy. We each stand an equal chance of falling heir to the property, so far as our knowledge of the require- ment of the will is concerned ; and, my dear, I request that you show no further favour to that young Longworth until positive that you are not pecuniarily the match for some one far above him in the social scale." "Indeed, mamma, if I could choose between Uncle Rodney's wealth and the faithful love of James Longworth, I would not hesitate a mo- ment. As you know, I am promised to him, though papa and you thought it best we should not enter into a formal engagement; and to show you I am preparing to be a poor man's* wife, 1 intend placing myself under Aunt Chloe's jurisdiction at the beginning of next week to take lessons in genteel cookery." Mrs. Hale held up her hands in horror. "A daughter of mine performing rough kitchen-work! May, you shall not I" "Who knows but one of Uncle Rodney's I eccentricities may have been to imagine that eyery woman should be capable of managing her own domestic affairs," interposed May, mischievously, and her mother, whose failing it was to be influenced by every contrary gust, admitted that it was just possible this might be the case. "If not," said she, Eva will perhaps have a better opportunity of succeeding." Eva was a second copy of her mother, and consequently the favourite daughter with her, which did much to reconcile her to May's pro- posed marriage with a labouring man, as it would leave the coast clear for her darling to consum- mate a brilliant match. The subject of the will was touched upon more lightly in the other household. Mrs. Bennett well knew her son's proud, sensitive nature, and knew also that he would not sacrifice a single opinion of his own while he was convinced that he was right, if by doing so he was positive of gaining the entire wealth of Rodney Knight. The Bennetts were not wealthy, but Graham occupied a responsible position in a well-known banking establishment, and received a liberal salary, which was sufficient to maintain them in a very comfortable, though not expensive style. His mother was fond of luxurious surround- ings, and ambitious for the advancement of her boy, so it is not strange that she should have built up hopes based upon the probability of his becoming the fortunate heir. The eldest partner in the firm that employed him spoke of soon retiring from business life, and if Graham were only possesed of this money he could purchase the controlling interest, and be raised at once from a laborious minor posi- tion to a state of affluence and freedom from the humdrum (details of actual business manage- ment. 'r So reasoned Margaret Bennett, and, when she saw her sorif'deliberately remove the broad crape band from Jiis hat^ ventured to remonstrate with him.' "Rodney Knight was no near relative of ours, and I cannot even recal having ever seen him, so itSvoiild be merely an assumption of grief to pretend to be deeply afflicted at the loss of a man who exerted no influence of any kind over us during his lifetime. I hate hypocrisy, and shall not simulate a degree of woe 1 am far from experiencing.'' But, my son, it is a mark of respect we all owe to his' memory, especially as he has given evidence of having remembered us, although at a late day." "Perhaps Cousin Graham is right," said Vivia Earle, who formed one of tho little household. "It may be that tho mysterious sealed clause shall declare the heir the person who can show himself independent and free from mercenary motives. The very fact of Graham's refusing to act a part he does not feel, may be the means of awarding him the legacy." This was a view of the çasè the young man had not previously taken ; but as his mother was not convinced, he permitted her to tie a narrow mourning tape about his hat, which, while it be- tokened no intensity of grief, served to indicate the loss of a friend. "I think I have a clue to Rodney Knight's requirement," soliloquised Vivia Earle, as she donned her hat and cloak preparatory to a shop- ping excursion in quest of sundry articles her aunt had just discovered they could not possi- bly dispense with another day. "While he bequeathed only five hundred pounds to five different public institutions, he left three times that amount to be expended in private charity; therefore, I think he must have favoured giving in unassuming manner, expecting the reward of benevolence rather in the approval of his own conscience, than from the plaudits of his fellow- men." The morning was clear and bright, as Vivia slowly pursued her way down the street, thé sub- ject of the queer will still revolving in her mind. "Matches ! matches 1 please buy my matches, Miss. 0, please, won't you buy my matches?" was reiterated as she -was about to pass unheed- ing. "You dirty little wretch!" exclaimed Vivia, drawing her velvet cloak from the grasp of the grimy hand laid detaining!/ upon it. June l, 1870.] 407 BOYS OF ENGLAND. A hurrying passer by jostled the boy's stock of merchandise held pleadingly towards her, and the box of matches fell upon the pavement, igniting as they touched ; at the same moment she saw Guy Howard approaching. "Never mind, my poor little fellow," said she, in her gentlest tones, as the boy broke into loud lamentations over his ruined property. "This will pay you for the loss of your matches." And she dropped some coins into the dirty little paw extended eagerly to receive them, ** I tear your charity was not wisely bestowed that time," said Mr. Howard, joining her an instant later. "That boy is a known impostor, who reaps golden benefits by managing to have his saleable commodities destroyed in somç manner, thus enlisting the sympathies of lookers- on, and usually receiving treble the actual worth of his whole stock. TIow much did you give him 7" "Only a shilling," returned Vivia, in a crest- fallen tone. "And his matches probably cost him two- pence. But this is only one of the many ways in which benevolently-inclined persons arc duped every day. I always assure myself that appli-1 cants for aid are in actual need of it before per-j mitting my charitable inclinations to gain the1; ascendancy. 7 am now on my way to visit ai poor family of whom I heard yesterday, anä if \ you have leisure time would be glad to have you1 accompany me.'* She signified her readiness to do so, and he continued— "They are strangers—Welsh, I believe—who arrived in the city about three months ago. The husband tried in vain to obtain work, and driven to desperation at the sight of those near and dear to him suffering for the commonest""'necessities of existence, he made an ineffectual attempt tp commit suicide by drowning, but was rescued before life was entirely extinct. "The result of the exposure he sustained was a severe illness, from which he is now beginning to convalesce, but in the mean time the family have been kept from starvation only by parting with every article of clothing and furniture it was possible to do without. "They arc in arrears for the rent of the miser- able apartment they occupy, and only the leniency of the landlord has prevented their being turned shelterless into the street long before this." Their way led through narrow streets in which Vivia had never previously been, and she grew sick at heart at the increasing signs of squalid wretchedness on every hand. They were scenes such as arc common in the byways of any great city, but they were all new to her, and it was with a feeling of relief that she followed her guide into a great tenement house which embraced the home of scores of families who had never known other habitations than the little penned-up rooms in which their lives had been passed. Up, up, up, until Vivia's breath came fast and short, then along a dark, narrow hall, and they had reached their destination. A room, no larger4 than a closet, with one small window, and no place for a fire, and in it were crowded eight human beings. The hollow- eyed man, half sitting, propped against the wall, with a tattered quilt thrown over him, the six children huddled together for warmth, and the wan woman who opened the door, all had the look of famine printed upon their faces. Mr. Howard, after hearing their story, which corresponded with the information he had re- ceived, gave them the means of relieving their immediate wants, and promised to see them re- moved into better quarters, and care taken of them until the husband should be well again, and could obtain work. When they left, with the blessings of the poor people sounding in their ears, Vivia's eyes were brimming with the dews of genuine sympathy, and, with a sudden impulse, she turned to her companion. "Mr. Howard, I thank you for having taught me my first lesson in disinterested benevolence and actual pity for the misfortunes of others. I have a confession to ma^c, humiliating though it be. I was not actuated by a feeling of charity when I gave the money to the match boy this morning, but was prompted by an unworthy motive. I bestowed the money upon him, hoping that by so doing 1 might be acting in accordance with the requirement of Rodney Knight's will." He gave her a suprised glance, and then a warm light came into his face, as he said, "Miss Earle, no matter what your motive may have been this morning, you have since shown yourself possessed of the best attributes of true womanhood; The greatest step towards the eorrectjOn of a fault is the confession of it, antj I'cannorbut thinfé that the experience of #ie last hojir may be worth more to you than the fortune pf my friend without it." '* After that day1 Vivia was rio stranger to scenes of misery and* want, and many learned to watch for her ^coming ^Viili hearts J grateful for assist- ance tendered when all Hope had seemed denied Mem, ''^'Ы\\*<ГГ P I "They were riöj; all pleasant these errands of mercy>which"bbe undertook, nor were her visits to'the haunts of tjVe poor always thankfully re- ceived"; Jmt* fruy Howard was her friend, he .encouraged her in her praiseworthy efforts, and directed'her to the needy and deserving. * She fbarncd to look up to him as a model of noble ^anhood; while he, beneath the surface of ^yorldlmcss that jaad always surrounded her, diaepvered priceless jewels of mind and heart. I * '''Willis jurant was an old and privileged visitor ¡ at тНе'hôinës f,of the Hales/and, coming in one morning unceremoniously^ as was his custom, he found Мйу elbow-deep in the dough-tray, plen- tifully Üustccí with flour, and kneading with a vigpiir which promised future shoulder-aches to the^inexperiiènced bread-maker. 44 How now, May-flower? Learning the do- mestic in hope of complying with Upele Rodnéy's rule?" he asked; with a curious gJariceKS r '^ ■ ■•ífS9f-.;ÍR4.c.edl" she answered, indignantly. ^MammVánd* É va had oüglit'tÖ' 'succeed if I en- deavouring to meet their idea of the requirement will bring success, but T am only trying to fit myself to be the worthy helpmeet of an honest man." "Quite right, little puss," said he, heartily pinching her blushing cheeks. The other ladies of the family soon made their appearance, and Mrs, Hale entered into an animated discussion with her elder daughter, whether they should not select plain bombazine for their new mourning dresses instead of the expensive rep, such as Mrs. Bennett had secured, and finally they submitted the decision to Mr. Grant, in whose judgment they had every con- fidence. He decided in favour of the bombazine, though could the mother and daughter have seen the merry twinkle of his eye, and heard his amused chuckle as he let himself into the street, they might not have been so confident of having started upon the proper track. "Let 'em go," said he, still laughing softly to himself. "It will save Andrew Hale many a snug bill during the year." * * * * * Time passes quickly. The year of mourning had expired, and Mrs. Hale had issued notes of invitation for a recep- tion, which was to notify the fashionable world that they were again at liberty to resume their places in active society. It was when the bustle of preparation was at its height that a little, foreign-looking man called at the house, and was shown into the presence of the ladies. Opening a curiously-shaped box he carried, he exposed to their dazzled gaze what appeared to be diamonds of intrinsic value. "See, my lady ! see, ma'am'selles, ze exqueseet imitation 1 Zey cannot be known from ze true gem. Ma foi I zey do be superbe! Will ze lady not purchase zese wondeful jewels; I sail dis- pose zem vera cheap?" The ladies examined the paste jewels with exclamations of surprise at the accuracy of the imitation. ** Will not ze ladies1 purchase?" again asked the little man, turiimg' the case-' that the light might fall most'favourably'upon the.jewels. "Mamma, I should fío much like to have that set," whispered Eva, indicating one of the cases. "What is the price?" asked Mrs. Hale. "But fcefty shillings, and feefty thousand would not purchase ze true jewels like zese." "I will take three sets," said the lady, in a patronizing tone, selecting them as she spoke. "None for me, please," said May, hastily. "A poor man's wife must not wear jewels, if they are only imitation." "You silly child, to throw away such an opportunity. Always harping on that one theme, too; I am entirely out* of patience with you, May. But, if you really do not want the set, I shall not insist upon getting it for you." Later in the day the same man called at the residence of Mrs. Bennett, and succeeded in sell- ing that lady what he termed "a magneeficent solitare reeng." "Wjjt not ¿e gentleman purchase zis beautiful pin?" t " I never lend myself to impositions of any kind," answered Graham, coldly. Vivja*rwjip*']iad* been glancing idly over the collection/ uttered an exclamación of surprise, and called attention to one of the pieces. "It ^almost an exact imitation of the diamond broocji left' mb by grandmamma Earle in con- sideration of my bearing her name." Here arc ze sleeve-buttons tp match. Ze ma'am'selle will desire zem?" ^ No," replied Vivia, " I'sliall never wear false jewels." 'Mrs. Hale's reception was a brilliant affair r- a gorgeous panorama of lighted, flower- decked rooms, and moving figures arrayed in richest attire. Guy Howard stood wijth a friend watching the shifting scene before him, when his gaze rested on Vivia Earle, who with her cousin was being introduced to one of the celebrities present. Her dress was a rich lavender silk, simple but elegant, and her only ornament a' diamond star that gleamed amid the, snowy lace which laid against her no less snowy throat. A shade of disappointment crossed his face. "I thought her above such trivial weakness," he murmured. * * * * Again the little company were assembled in the drawing-room of the house which had be- longed to Rodney Knight. There was a dead silence as Guy Howard pro- ceeded to break the seal of the remaining clause to the will, during which everybody strove to appear unconcerned, and, as is usually the case, failing miserably. After a few preparatory remarks, he read— "I have foreseen that this simple scrap of writing will call forth the ingenuity of every person hoping to become my heir-at-law in settling upon some plan of action which he may think, most likely to accord with the rule I have laid down. "Not any of them will in any degree approach the reality, but I hope by following the course defined in the mind of each that they may all be benefited by the experience that is always gained in a departure from any monotonous routine. "I have always entertained a decided antipa- thy for any species of display that is not what it purports to be; and reducing this aversion of mine to a fine point, I have decided that no person yielding to a weak vanity—grasping the glitter where they cannot afford the true gold— shall inherit wealth of mine. "To this end I directed a test which Guy Howard and Willis Grant will see carried into effect, and it will then be their task to appoint the persons withstanding this test as equal sharers of my possessions. "The one requirement I insist upon is that the person or persons succeeding to my property shall refuse to wear false jewellery, no matter how perfect the imitation." For a moment there was silence painful in its intensity. i Then Mr. Howard spoke. "In compliance with the written instructions of Mr. Knight, Mr. Grant and myself employed the test as directed. The imitation diamonds were the decoy, and had not circumstances transpired to render such a proceeding unneces- sary it would now be our duty to decide upon the heirs to the property." At this juncture he opened a door leading into 410 fJDNE 1,1870. BOYS OF ENGLAND. And the blood left her cheeks as she said this. "I, murder? I am the instrument of the law, and carry out its commands. If tho law js wrong, it is no business of mine." "You are inexorable and cruel 1 Ah, I forgojb you arc the headsman I" And a look of scorn passed across Jier beauti- ful face. "You speak the truth. Ï am not king nor minister. I am not even thought to be a man by my fellow creatures. 1 am only an arm and a sword moved by the law and justice." She gazed at him with eyes of terror as he drew himself up to his full height, then slowly drew a costly jewel from off her finger and held it out. "I have wounded your feelings. Pray accept that in reparation." "Mao" ame, you'wound my feelings more аду. I am not to be bribed^'put up your jewel. Were it capable of purchasing worlds^ it could not buy the integrity of Charges Sansoji." She drew back her hand, gazing wjth warm looks upon the man's incorruptibility. v "Forgive me," she said, "" my íove blJndccjL me. Oh, what is to be (Jone Î" and she wyúng-'hcr hands in -despair. "Will you not advise me?" "I cannot. I am powerless 4o aid youvih this sad affair," was the cold reply.' * 'tn "Suppose a rescue was attempted—Jiis friends arc rich and powerful—would you interfere?" "No; I should neither assist nor oppose it: ray office is only on the scaffold." vX *' "It is our only hope," she said, witji a deep sigh. "And a very slender one," replied Sanson; "do not buoy yourself up with the hope that it will succeed." "Ah ! would you betray us? By heavens! if I were a man, I would pistol you as you stand if I thought so." "Calm your fears, madame. I am incapable of betraying anyone, much less the unfortunate. My reason for saying as much was that, knowing the Regent's implacable hatred of the count, he will not let the bird escape now he has him in the cage." "We shall see. An over-fancied security often leads to a victory. Your answer?" il Once and for all, I cannot assist you." "Adieu, then. My first interview with the executioner is at an end/' "And as times are perilous, and we are never certain about what is going to happen, I hope the interview will be the last. *' I understand you, sir, and it shall not be my fault if we ever meet again." She was leaving the garden hurriedly. "Will it please you, madame, to drop your veil? If any of the Regent's spies saw yon leave here, perhaps щу own head will not be firm on my shoulders." "You forget yourself, sir," she replied. "Not so, madame. It is a matter of pre- caution. Jealousy has cost the young Count! Horn his head, it might cause Sanson to lose hj.s. You understand?" "Perfectly. You arc an extraordinary man." "Aman above price, madame. The Sansons were gentlemen." And he drew himself proudly up as the lady, dropping her veil, hurried from the spot. The Red Man gazed after her for a moment, and then walked slowly back to his house. Yes, the young unfortunate Count Hpro, the descendant of a noble family, was condemned to die by the hand of the headsman. No earthly power could save him; ]the three most powerful parties in Paris were leagued against him, and had sworn his destruction either by fair means or foul. He had supplanted the Regent in love, had gained the hatred of the Abbe Dubois, the Regent's adviser, and, added to this, John Law, who at that time swayed the fortunes of all France, had been thwarted by him in some of his schemes, and had sworn his destruction. Unfortunately for him, his own irregular conduct assisted greatly in hastening him down the gulf of destruction. Por irregularities he had been cashiered jtrom the Austrian army. To check him in his wild career, his cousin, the Prince Maximilian, had him confined in one of his strongholds. Here his treatment was such as to drive him to madness ; quite unknown to his brother, who had at all times treated him with the greatest tenderness. ^ Qjxq day he attacked his keepers, and felling them to £he-ground escaped ; and m á ltate of #estitution*ajppeared before his brother, who was greatly shocked. ^у я.course of kind, gentle treatment, he re- covered, and shortly after he arrived in Paris. ■ge^allei rnrx>n the Marquis' ;of" Créqui and others of tHe)iigh nobility with whom he was connected. ЧГЫз at once threw him into the vortex of fashion/'' and ^e-'goon took *his stand among the young men of "ton. His tall, 'elegant figure, his pale but handsome features, and his dark, flashing eyes .distinguished him from the rest, and he moved peerless before S them. *" In his habits he relished the wild, xoystering society of the city. / He dashed'" fntb every species of intrigue, and in one of these affairs Jic was surprised by his rival the Regent.""' ¡ High words passed between them, jealousy! and vengeance were awalcened, and only his life could satisfy the prince.î?rf *' It was at this time'jja>y's famous Mississippi scheme was at its hei^htjl'and every means were resorted to to keep it!agoat.*" The "vagrant'? population of France was swept off its streetsi bt night,'and shipped off ¿ó projected colonies,'and ¿hb £omv6 himsejf, in one of his nocturnal sallies, was\seized &ythe'crimp's, who, no doubt, baa ^cen "employed,' and were lying in wait for him. * v,r"" * But he escaped, levying more than one of them .dead'upon the ground.-1' ■" The Marquis Cr^ui; who took great interest in'his kinsman,* piMe inquiries about him, but the only reply he received was a mysterious inti- mation not to interfere in the matter, but to advise the count to quit Paris at once. "If he lingers he is lost 1" was the significant hint. His enemies were watching the opportunity to destroy him, and it came too soon. Among the loose companions of the count, and with whom he had become intimate, were two of them who lodged in the same hotel. The one was Lestang, the prodigal son of a Flemish banker, the other a cashiered captain of the Piedmontcse army, but who, at that time, acted as an esquire .to the notorious Princess de Carignan, who kept gambling-tables at herpalace. There is НЩе doubt but that the propensity for gambling brought these youths together; #ieir losses had driven them to desperate ex- pedients, and cool calculating persons saw that something fatal would be the result. They wpre not far ont, for one morning all Paris was startled by a murder the night before, which, it was said, they had committed. A Jew stockbroker, one of Law's men, was the victim, and the dark side of the account ran thus. It was said that the Jew had been decoyed to a 1,qw tavern under the pretext of negotiating in bank shares to the amount of 100,000 crowns, which he had in his pocket-book. Lestang kept watch upon the stairs, while the Jew entered a chamber with the count and the captain. In a little time after the people heard loud outcries for help, and a violent struggle. Some persons rushed up the stairs and saw the Jew weltering in his blood; and they alarmed the neighbourhood. Lestang rushed down the stairs, and, making his way home, collected his valuables and fled the country. The count and his friend tried to escape the same way, but were seized, and, after a des- perate struggle, were conducted to prigon. The news 61 the crime and the count's arrest caused the deepest consternation among his friends, who tried all the means that wealth and influence could use to avert a trial. It was in vain; the unfortunate young man was in the fangs of tthc wild beast, and his fate was sealed. The regent, the abbe, and the projector, all hated him, and the red seal was ready to be affixed to the death warrant. The trial was hurried on in a most indecent manner. The cold-blooded" villain, the captain, to save his own vjle life, turned round and inculpated the count"; saiä that it was he who planned the robbery',1 and struck the death blow. It was enough ; t}ie sword hung over the un- fortunate man's "Jiead, suspended by the single hair, and was ready £o fall. The count and'4* his friend," were both con- demned to deatii? and that one of the most tor- turing and ignöm inious—to be broken alive upon the wheel. . ^ Between the sentence and the doom but little time,was losti'f and,, in forty-eight hours after the former, the" scaffold; was reared. During the timé'!hc was visited by his rela- tions ; to one arid all he protested his innocence, and swore it upon the holy cross. One of $em?'ahxións to save this lasting dis- grace upon'so many noble families, offered him poison.' *' He refused it. "Miserable'pian f" said the enraged relative, "you are fit only to perish by the hand of the executioner I" and indignantly left him. rrT^eRedMan received>!Jiis orders to execute thé 'sentence *w)th profound grief, and it is even said*'that Jie ■ and his wife passed the night previous'to the1 execution in prayer. 'The nobility of Paris went in a body to the palace, headed by thé Marquis Créqui, to ask for pardon. They were received by the vengeful Regent with a most unpropitious aspect. He heard them out with great impatience. "Gentlemen," he said, "you seem to display more respect for the house of Horn than'ïor the king and thé law. I will not step between them. "{The crime is a beinous one, and deserves the punishment. Jîe dies 1" "Consider the disgrace, sire, upon yourself. Your own escutcheon bears the quarterings of the house," said the marquis. "Indeed!" anda sardonic smile crossed his face. "Then I must share the disgrace with you." He then, with much politeness, conducted them to the door of the salon, and there dismissed them. The crafty, implacable man "forgot" to send the order, for the commutation of the 'punish- ment. Both the count and his companion had, in the meantime, been most horribly tortured. In his frenzy, the count repelled all offers of religious consolation, and had even desperately fought his torturers to the very last. Overpowered by nnmbcrs, he was seized and bound to the wheel erected in the dungeons of the prison, and fearfully mutilated; but no tor- ture, no agony, no exhortations could wring from him any confession of his guilt. The revilings on his villanous companion were of the most horrible description, but all that the latter craven could do was to yell for mercy. At last the morning came, and at daylight Sanson entered the cell where tho two doomed men lay. He found them crushed and almost shapeless masses. A priest was preaching consolation to them, but he spoke to ears deaf to anything ho might say. Fearful that they might die before the last bitter sentence could be carried out, water was dashed over them, to restore them, but it only had the effect ot prolonging their agonies. So mangled were they, that men were com- pelled to carry them to the scaffold, which was only reached by slow and painful stages. There the count's youth and strength seemed to revive, and make a last expiring effort. "Arms, arms !" he faintly cried, "and let me defend myself." What was the consternation of the immense crowd assembled when they found there stood the dreaded cross of St. Andrew, to which, in a very .short time, the unfortunate count was bound I py the assistants. June l, 1870.j 4U BOYS OF ENGLAND. During this a resolve had entered the mind of Sanson. He took a piece of rope called the "retentum" imd, passing it round the neck of the count, spared him the agony of the bar of iron that was to fall upon his already mangled limbs. The marquis, on hearing that the count had been executed, arrayed himself in the uniform of a general officer, and, wearing the cordon of nobility on his coat, proceeded hither in his coach with six horses, and, followed by some hundreds of the nobility, went to the scaffold. The count was dead; the last act had been done. They ascended the scaffold, and, with their own hands unloosed the dead body of their relative and bore it to their hotel, and a few days after it was sumptuously interred. Then the Red Man walked slowly home and reached his chamber, where the rest" of this gloomy day was spent in prayer and sorrow. CONCLUSION. THE LAST ACT. Charles Sanson did not long survive the execution of Count Horn, and, to show the wear and tear of both mind and body he must have undergone, he was barely forty-five years of age when íie died. He was succeeded in his ghastly office by his eldest son, Charles Jean Baptiste Sanson ; but he, being at that time only seven years of age— although, of course, he could not act—had to legalise all executions by his presence. Tims, while a child, he witnessed the execution by breaking on the wheel, of one Miset, a blood- thirsty bandit. Robert Francis Damions next appeared upon the lied Man's list. The crime for which he suffered was at- tempting the life of Louis the Fifteenth. He had been a bad man, one who had shown the vilest passions; commencing life as a thief and vagabond, and ending it as a regicide. He was repeatedly turned out of situations that he held, in consequence of his misconduct, and altogether had passed a life of great reck- lessness and prodigality. There is, however, but little doubt but that his crime was th e result of a weak and disordered mind. The attempt that he made upon the life of King Louis the Fifteenth was the result of a religious feeling acting upon those disorganizations. Determined to carry out his plan of vengeance, he went to the Palace of Versailles on the 5th of January, 1757, at five in the afternoon, just as the king was stepping into his carriage. The assassin made his way unobserved among the attendants and stabbed the king in the right side with a knife. The greatest consternation prevailed, and in the confusion Damiens might for the time have escaped, but he remained on the spot until seized by a captain of the guard. He made not the slightest attempt at escape. The wound was slight, and after a few days the king recovered, and then vowed that a stern vengeance should be carried out upon his assassin. He was secured, and after his first examina- tion, put to the torture to discover if he had any accomplices, and such was the rage of the people against him, that he was only saved from being roasted alive by the provost's lieutenant, who claimed him as a king's prisoner. After this he was taken to the renowned Tour dc Montgomery, which place was strongly bar- ricaded and strengthened. Four men, renowned for their strength and fidelity, watched him all day until relieved ,by others, in whom the greatest trust was placed. His food was severely tested before he was permitted to taste it. Finally, he was tried before the Grand Cham- ber of Parliament, to whom the exasperated king wrote a letter demanding a "signal ven- geance," and after undergoing the "question," he was sentenced to die the death of a regicide. During these events, Sanson had been struck down by an attack of paralysis, and his younger brother Nicolas Gabriel was called upon to officiate. To carry out the awful and barbarous sentence his first act was to purchase four powerful horses, which he did at an expense of four hundred and fifty-two francs (a large sum at that period). Then an old torturer, whose father had ope- rated upon Ravilliac, undertook that part of the business, and to legalise it, as we said before, Charles Jean Baptiste Sanson, then seventeen years of age, had to be present. After undergoing the most fearful and un- heard-of tortures, he was taken and placed upon the scaffold. Spite of the detestable agonies he had under- gone, he gazed round upon the immense and excited mob. It was a fearful, sickening sight to witness. All the windows and roofs of the houses were filled with men and women, among whom were many "ladies of rank." The moment after the criminal was placed upon the scaffold, his arm was seized and made fast to an iron bar as far as the wrist, and an iron brazier, full of blazing coal, was lifted up and placed under his hand. When the flames first caught it, he sent forth j a fearful shriek, and let his head fall down upon his chest. But the next moment, as if animated with the courage of despair, and, suppressing all outward show of feeling, he lifted it up, and sur- veyed the progress of the flames. They next proceeded to tear off large pieces of flesh with red-hot pincers, while the fiends of torture poured upon the wounds "boiling oil, burning resin, molten sulphur, and lead." In the delirium of his agony, he shouted out, "Encore! encore I encore I" in a voice that was \ scarcely human. Then they ceased their fearful task, and, after a pause, he was thrown down and fastened by strong chains. Then, round each of his legs and arms power- ful ropes were fixed, and then the four powerful horses were attached, each in ад opposite direc-! tion. They were then lashed from behing, and urged forward; but so powerfully is the £rame formed, and of such tenacity, tnat at the first*pull one of the horses fell down ирод his knees. The executioners at this shrank back in con- j sternation, and the priest fainted away. j At last the horrible deed was consummated, \ and the regicide, lifting up his eyes to heaven, j breathed his last. ■ It is a remarkable fact, that his hair, which \ was brown when he ascended the scaffold, was white as driven snow when he breathed his last. This awful sight, a disgrace even to the civili- zationjof that day, had its punishment upon those who had assisted at it. The king himself died a miserable death, so miserable that even his greatest favourites and friends fled from his bedside, and it might be said that he " died alone." The aged priest who stood by the side of the regicide and witnessed his fearful sufferings, became a _ prey to the bitterest sorrow, and finished his days in a mad-house. Of the attendants no less than three commit- ted suicide, while another wandered through the streets, laughing idiotically, and crying— "Encore I encore 1 encore I" The effect produced upon the already weakened constitution of the Red Man was of such a nature as to cause him to send in his resignation. Gabriel Sanson never forgot the sight; his days and nights were those of agony and terror. The wild scream uttered by the poor wretch when the fire first attacked him never left him; it rang in his ears like a knell of doom. He woke in the night with it sounding in his room. Then the look that he gave when God merci- fully ended his sufferings seemed to be always before his eyes. He therefore resigned his fearful duties to his nephew, Charles Henry Sanson, upon' consider- ation of an annuity of two thousand four hundred francs. His successor's services were required in a case of great historical interest. At the time there existed a great dissatisfac- tion and exasperation on the minds of the masses at the loss of Pondicherry and other West Indian possessions. The success of the British arms likewise annoyed them, so much so that the ministers of the day found it necessary to sacrifice some person to it, and the choice fell upon Thomas Arthur de Lally Tollendall, who had been the unsuccessful commander. Torn with indignation at the reports raised against him he demanded a trial, and wo need not say that his request was speedily granted. He was found guilty upon all the charges of treachery. He was condemned to suffer death upon the scaffold at the hands of the headsman. A curious fact was connected with the Sanson family and this victim. Seme years before, on the night of Jean Baptiste Sanson's wedding, when all was mirth and jollity, and the merry song and happy dance was at its height, four young men who had been out upon the frolic, seeing that merriment was going on, asked permission to join the party. Their request was acceded to, and the unin- vited guests entered freely into the sport of the thing until a late hour. When the time arrived that they should de- part, one of the four young men asked the name of their kind and hospitable entertainer. The giver of the feast, the bridegroom, an- swers, " My name is Jean Baptiste Sanson." i Sanson Балу three of them recoiling. ** Why then you are the" "Red Man of Paris," was the reply. The fourth man, who had asked the question, laughed heartily at the long faces of his com- panions. "What of that?" he said, "Red Man or not, you are a good fellow, and have entertained us like a prince, and X heartily thank you for it." Sanson smiled at this frank reply, and held out his hand. Tollendall, for he was the individual who had so courteously thanked him, was about to grasp it, when he was pulled back by his companions. "Are you mad?" they said, in accents of terror. "No, perfectly sane," was the cool reply; "where is the harm?" ** Harm," said one of them; "have you not heard that to grasp the hand of the executioner is to become acquainted with the sword?" "Ha, ha, that is capital," said the reckless man. "Jean Baptiste Sanson, you are an honest fellow, and to show you that Lally Tollendall is above anything like vulgar prejudice, there is my hand," and he held it out. The next moment it was grasped in that of the executioRer while his companions turned away shuddering. "Another cup of wine," shouted kally. It was brought him, and he raised it high, laughing at his terror-stricken friends. "Your health, my friend ; many happy returns to the day ; and, ha, ha, ha I may trade flourish." He quaffed off the wine and sent the glass spinning in the air. "And now,'* he said, "you will not refuse me a request?" "What request?" answered Sanson. "Oh, it is not an unreasonable one. I'll answer for it." "Name it," and for a moment a dark cloud hung upon the brow of Sanson. "A sight of that terrible weapon." "I would rather not," he answered, with some hesitation. « Rather not. Why?" "Well, there is no particular objection but one," was the reply. « And that is" "Why, this is my wedding-day, and I wanted to drop all thought of my office." "What, man alive, are you ashamed of it?" said Lally, with surprise. (To be concluded next week. Commenced In No. 182.) "None but the brave deserve the fair"—and none but the brave can live with some of them. It is easy to break into an old man's house, because his gait is feeble, and his locks are few. 4-12 BOYS Ob ENGLAND. TRUE STORIES OF BOYISH BRAVERY.! XIV. Uij,;|j 1Ц \'1М>ХЛ!.И. Tsa>S' Sasaa; S;'r";:;- ае» SSdrb :bb' ana at ia eitel} аса has b-ult! La Ганга aclîv -endee, a .* tii^L id ihua; wars wliicii wu Lave waged '.I; ,Mih C/i (íl,l!tlíU! —U ah ii'H' <<îd( d M- Il er hut r\n\<-r ^n\r\\ peer, hl i.",«M. les lather \ l> R< [H '. С t. Ь *. 4.Î be W'HH Ute ï-* > *î ¡_*H :t*î* :-, wdh selb- лее ае Т eîed -dm- íha-jy, "Of" mir orm<~ arm^trrd п.н I in \-.\v inherited a Joui. Uy ..uî La j efe Wae» 1 bat < L j;*'h în U peiS'Sae , a;bhtab .HS UlîUî thofetî areades l:um m y OW!t 'i In Lis eadbboüd Lee domed b< f"i1urh',4 *,j tb, laiiiiiy wer« at büch a luw ebb lliai a real dalí< Thorn я.s and Ins yourif-er brother?, with the i м*.-ь»*л riiiï boarders were divided into two parties, .^»ger party, under Dundonald, were to attack the "Gamo '* in its middle, À smaller number were ordered simultaneously to clamber over the bows, By the captain's orders the latter party blackened their faces, already grimy enough after two hours firing. When, the black fellows jumped down upon ib.? Spaniard-- IV'oií íU'-lr own, bulwarks they !,.,m « <>.•;-, nu с - •• era-'Seab lur.daoU m t.» UU , w.-tc dea. a-d aekva, Not "n!y did it мч.чи to naval t «at » гы;,. ae аа-оле-а, ; Ь.л >•« saasaa.try «s:-!, mai. abe dbíeaa'ty ¡ ;,r¡ ean-Им.!, - и aa L'í La í'a i. ■ : ; г м|* tLr s*-;»»! ]];. b:i w::,- v..-r l'bf j;d}jt*r wrts pfremy>ti)ry and rioridH, bnf :» * jik-rr. •»{ t!i" 1!-;:.ч*,';;)ч:т' л'Н'Ц-'Иу uiinb% а iiavHt гн|»1.ан». <г1н'.<>пга?Д'4 LU j nbírübsísíy pis».Lb.-ai. nephew1--- maritime Irar.înpî1:. lie privately en- \ ftv. frrurr.bîru Рччч1 bis ааин» in fbi- Lmoh.. -f í^rar tbaa I *• Tbl.* L^rb; f u.b.a.r; ;')',; . LL.h f.| war. L» ïh«' L'.î»" tL.-i tla,t u-.-uîuH-. J < wbiam.: t: InL b-' «s r.c>< »>f iL«'- ^.-'ti v.í'hM ultima!Ну tsvcru lis" sijvfí^íU <»j' tu»1 |ир d I qiatí m.-i-, v/a;v ii;U;iru iba,'íau'.at ; and .a'iüi a view ol aeía>ai^iiaLíiii: Li¿ ) i.l r^-AiL^ }.u¡p.'.»', h-- i L'nv'-'l Lis h'Si u.:H«t-r th'„' taiuen U >>„ a crusty f'Ht ~rT7orint. !m*d h'- лтга- hi-* r!c Lи;а' -.ча' !e wrh br.yi~h priHe, wan formnНу eut, and тйая-- i Thif« wan rt'ïrpîcf»"1, ílM4-«i L;n'b with a viî« <':< an Li aid i on oí" aatidb- i | rrafs'd te» a dial rdn* ¡irf'.iM'- aad dum, to whielt wa>adticd thr torture ¡ líavLrtí.f thn luck )da»w«J af«aa:iail ío ti:»' t*aiíjvaií« braaa « í 'Иам1ааа,Ь; w:a lí-« ■.aab- d, «,ис cf IS-r;-' aa ib' Id- a.! a P» ^a'ímb to the í« .;.,-b ¡-a, l'aab, >,¡,<, of î i:« ли a-Lavad Lia! iba a- baa,- aaai ]:<■<-r, Laad« d. dowíí Lv their OW11 <.!!i''.,í',!. a.a^a'aaaí, aad la .a-vía ' dial \lu-y Cíaí.b! a a, radía 'í * ^!Í> 2n <>aa < .fra vío-a da* Saasa ч},аак 1 '•* * ab', vuik-a tac íujiuro ! с,Ьаа,а.а iaamL% iu which ií was supposed ho wart ;!Sa" a. ,a-5 taa-d: bat car read !S 'aad abadbiy leans a,d then ta the job in fine style, by robbing I me óf all I had left, save two. The boy is about fifteen years old? the son of a deceased physician, and his mother is a lady of standing. I have re- peátédly complained to her of his conduct, but am ¡ satisfied that4 she Ьаз not, and will hot have any control of him." I u\ Great is the mystery of boys! I fancy that the gift of managing boys is born in a man, just as are I poetry, inventiveness; and the mathematical faculty. If one can't manage boys, he can't, and will not be likely to learn how by any, amount of trying. ^ And if he can, ho will fall upon tho way of doing it without being told. t, Sometimes a wholesome and thorough thrashing is of admirable moral effect. t But merry mischief is oí another brood. Boys can easily be made to feel the impropriety of such roguish pranks as put people to fain and loss through their thoughtlessness. But it must be by kind and patient exposition. But what shall be done for the case in Jiand? It is allied to those other common complaints, the shooting of cats, of singing birds, and of dogs and squirrels, which are so frequent. This wantonness seems to be a home form of the hunting spirit. It is bringing home to the owners of game a sense of the true venatorial spirit. The special remedy in this case will demand a better acquaintance with the particulars of person and neighbourhood than I possess. But the general remedy is obvious. It is ii better state of public sentiment in regard to the whole pussion of de* struvtiwiess. Not boys only, but the whole com- munity, need instruction upon this subject. Tiro propensity to destroy, to crush, to deface, to worry and hunt, is intensely active. The mothers and sisters set their faces against it, but fathers and brothers say, "Oh, boys will be boya," which is only a soft way of saying, "Boys will be brutes." Gentlemen's sons, resorting to college for liberal culture, turn upon eacli new class with a series of disgraceful brutalities, which ought to consign them to a penitentiaiy. The new apprentice, tho last boy hi the shop, in short, the weak, the tender, the new-comer, and homesick, in almost all the avenues of life, are pounced upon by those who should cheer and protect them, and made to suffer nameless dis- graceful inflictions. Docs the pulpit instruct men in this matter? Do Sunday schools work against this brute instinct of cruelty? Why should boys spare your pets, in a community that tolerates as sports a hundred things which are far more cruel and needless? You are called by the things which you suffer to aid in producing a more humane and merciful public sentiment. Тпе EmTOit. Тпе way to make time pass quickly—raise a row and get knocked into the middle of next week. We frequently hear of a flight of steps, but we have never yet been able to discover where they flu to. %* Original Contributions only are required, and must be accompanied byname and address. Any puzzle or charade received after this date, and found to have been copied from other publications, will not be inserted, and no further contribution from the same person will be accepted, Ш Puzzle mill be excepted unless the Solutions are properly worked out. Numbered Charades in particular must have FULL answers sent with them. Walking ono evening through the main street of a London suburb, I paused to look at the placards displayed in a largo publican's window. Among those announcing splendid alo at fourpenco a quart, cream gin at threepence-halfpenny, and rum at fourpence, one particularly struck my eye, pro- claiming that the proprietor had 500,000 bottles of port in his cellar that he was selling at Is. 4d. per bottle. I looked at the house; it had about 40 feet frontage, and a depth of about 25 feet; perhaps the cellars might extend under the pavement another 10 feet; and the wonder arose in my mind as to where he could stow the 500,000 bottles of wine at Is. 4d., besides the thousands of other bottles ho must possess of different qualities, to say nothing of his stock of sherries, clarets, and champagnes, also ales, porter, stout, gin, rum, brandy, whisky, and other liquors that form a necessary part of a publican's stock. And, as I walked on, tho following problem presented itself to me, which I in- vite the Boys of England to answer. First, what is tho value of 600,000 bottles of wine at Is. 4d.? Second, sup- posing each bottle to contain 5 quartens, which is about tho average, how many gallons did the whole contain? Thirdly, what would bo the length, width, and height of the cellar that would contain the whole number of bottles, supposing them to bo packed on their sides in 2 rows of 12 bottles deep, and 250 bottles in a row, leaving a space of 3 feet as passage between? And, fourthly, to what distance would they reach if laid side by side, and also lengthwise, taking each bottle to represent 13 inches in length, by 3 inches in diameter? I think the answer to this will as- tonish even a wine company. Ed. II. I am a word of twelve letters. My.l, 2,3,4, 5 is a sort of enemy ; my C, 7, 8, 0,10,11 is the chief character in a comic tale in the Boys of Eng- land; my 1, 2, 3s 11, 7 is a stream of water; my 10, 8, 9, 11 is a river of Yorkshire; my 6,10, 4, 5 is a mineral ; my 4,11, 2,10,8 are tho five vowele; and my whole is a cele- brated tale in the Boys of England. William Wiiitk. hi. My first Í3 iñ black, but not in whito -, My second is in darkness, but not in light; My third is in baker, but not in flour; 'My fourth is in second, but not in hour; My fifth is in brick, but in wall: My sixth is in house, but not in hall; My seventh is in borrow, but not in lend; My eighth is in smash, but not in mend; My whole is something you cannot find out; Though it makes a great noise, and flies all about. T. C. B. IV. My first is in North, but is not in South; My second's induction, but is not in truth; My third's in fork, but is not in knife: My fourth's in man, bat is not in wife; My fifth's in calf, but is not in sheep; My sixth's in ocean, but is not in deep; My seventh's in kite, but is not in string; My eighth's in queen, but is not in king; My ninth's in night, but is not in day; My tenth's in tarry, but is not in stay; My eleventh's in time, but is not in hour; My twelvth's in corn, but is not in Hour; My thirteenth's in kettle, but is net in pan; And my whole a talc, find out if you can. С T.,W. H. v. TRANSPOSITION. E E E T T В I J A N MS R D W The abovo is the name of a person transposed whom you havo to thank for what you are now reading. Harold Eurniss. vi. FLOWERS ENIGMATICALLY EXPRESSED. A shrub and a wine. A boundary and a blossom. To gather an interjection and a bevetage. Sedate and the past tense of to uplift. A conveyance and a people. Sweet and imbibe. To loso from memory, a personal pronoun and a negation. HAROLD FÜRNISS. VII. A boy was once caught robbing an orchard, and ho wa3 to be set freo if he would leave half tho amount of apples he had on him, and half an apple at the first gate he came to, three of which he bad to pass, and do the same at the eecond with the remainder, and во on. How many apples did he start with, how many did he leave at each gate, and bearing in mind that he was not to cut or bruise an apple? a. BUOAVN. VIII. An office of a judge; one who answers; a state in South America; piercing; to distinguish one fron? another; a play-house; a girl's name; to bore; a falsehood ; to dis- turb; a pointed woa|>ou ; a wind instrument.. The initials read downwards will name a splendid tale in the YOUNG Mkn of Great Britain, and the finals read downwards will name ono of our late English princes. H. WM. Howl BOYS OF ENGLAND. 415 Jene i, isto.] I consist of 7 words, 32 letters. My 18 8,11.16,31, в, 7 is a fish; my 4,10, 27,12, 6 is a bird • ШУ 23» G, 1, SO is a disagreeable insect; my 3, 21,25, 17 15* 28* 26,24 is a curious reptile; my 30, Ц1, 23, 19, H is a very fierce animal; my 18,21,22,2,13 is a very useful ац1ша"] ; my 9, 5, 17 is a small domestic animal; my 32,21, 2,18 is p flying insect; my 20. 1. 29,12 is a part of a Human being. LI у whole is the full title oí a most inter- esting tale in the BOYS OP ENGLAND. WILLIAM F. TlUNDER AND EllNEST H. SüMNER. X. My 8.3. 4, 2, 7 is to provide -, my 1, Ö, 6, 3,4 is a grain; my 10, Э, 3, 4is a garment; my 3,8,5, 2 is painful; my 4, 6, 3 is a beverage: my 9, 3,11 is a tree; my 11, 3,4,6 is a lady'e name; my 1, 3, 4, 6, 7 is a liquid; my 7, 9, 3, 8, 5 is a fish; and my whole, which consists of 11 letters, is a sign of a change. * Geo. M. W. XI. Why is the BOYS OF ENGLAND Journal like an empty match-box? GEO. M. W. XII. Why should those who purchase the Boys op England Journal prefer beef to venison? GEO. M. W. XIII. Whole, I am one who hires rooms; curtail me, and I am to settle; behead and transpose me, and I am a chief magistrate of Yenice; curtail me, and I am a domestic animal ; behead and reverso mc, and I am to proceed. Edmund Feeiimund, XIV. Whole, I am the green shoots of corn ;;bchead and trans- pose me, and I am a town in Kent; reverse me, and I am a eoft heavy metal ; curtail me, and I am a river in England transpose, and I am in liquor, Edmund Peekmund. XV. I am in Italy, but not in Rome; I am in Paris, but not in Stockholm; I am in river, but not in rail; I am in monkey, but not in its tail, I am in rat, but not in mouse; I am in sparrow, but not in grouse; I am in tailor, but not in the baker; I am in boots, but not in the maker; I am in lard, but not in dripping; And my whole is a placo that is famous for shipping. Edmund Peeiimund. XVI. I consist of 13 letters, two words. My first in in Spanish, but not in Spain; My second is in snow, but not in rain; My third is in bright, but not in dull; My fourth is in head, but not in skull; My fifth is in carpet, but not in floor; My sixth is in solicitor, but not in law i My seventh is in shout, but not in yell î My eighth is in knocker, but not in bell; My ninth is in chest, but not In box; ily tenth la irrwolf/tmt not Ш fox; My eleventh is in tears, but not in weep; My twelfth is in goat, but not in sheep; My thirteenth is in can, but not in pot; My whole is the name of a celebrated man. W. SEAR. ANSWEKS TO CBACKEBS, No. 181. I, Dear Sir,—The Boys of England, being just at the end of its sixth volume, it is a sure proof of its popu- larity and success. Yours truly, JonN Walker. II. Popular Statesmen.—1. William Ewart Gladstone. 2. Benjamin Disraeli. 3. Lord Palmerston. Books and their Authors.—1. "The Woman in White," by Wilkie Collins. 2. ** It is Never too Lace to Mend," by Charles Rcade. 3. "The Constable of the Tower." by Ainsworth. III. ThoYouao MEN of GhEAT BiUTAlN; Thome, Han- ley, Kaling, Yeovil, Oundlo, Ullock, Netley, Gorton, Marple, Exeter, Newton, Oldham, Fenton, Goring, Redcar, Epping, Ashton, Tipton, Belper, Itenton, Ilford, Trevor, Ashcot, llklcy, Norbury. IV. Semiramis, Edinburgh; SeinE, EnglanD, Mississippi, IoniaN, RehoB, AdieU, Mullelt, ImiG, SusannaH. V. Pen-knife. VI. Algeria, Algiers; AlamoS, LanteR, GiarnE, Edrel, IiacheberG, IjsseL, Ali A. VII. Byron; Berlin, Yezd, Rochdale, Omoa, Neva. VIII. Leonatus Posthumus; Apemantus, Menteth, Stc- phano, Leontes, Peto, Hume, Menas, Sampson, and Montano. IX. Georgo Peabody. X, "Bicycle Bob." XI. Robinson Crusoe; cousin, rosin, sure, ribbon, sour, son, robin, rose. XII. A Grand New Talc, Memory Haunted; AvoiD, GreecE, RuperT, AnnaN, NambU. DroghcdA, NeatH, E1Y, Wealt, Toledo, AntriM, LuccrnE, EpsoM. XIII. Band-age. XIV. Pianoforte; rat, trap, foot, pen, iron, pant. XV. Ferblantier (tinman) ; neal, affable, bare, earl, lane, fret, lerret, feint, enter, rear. XVI. "Was he the Man?" saw, test, than, new, stew, Ham, name. XVII. XVIII. XIX. CAPE FIRE DIET AFAR IRON ISLE PASS ROOD ELSE ERST ENDÖ TEEN XX F ORE SCOTS BESIEGE FROISSART GLISSON С II A R T V . E R E i T Correct solutions Recmved. — Frederick John Bailey, H. St. Andre, R. A. and F. G. English, J. H. Chatto, A Dent, Mac J. Venning, T. S. ©m Sife-Í0Ht itere THE BOYS OF ENGLAND LITE-BOAT. Subscribed to by the Boys of England, îreland, Scotland, and Wales. Amount last acknowledged, £289 19s. 2d. A Friend, Is. ; Harry in Australians 2 0 L. Leach 0 3 C. Watson, Ipswich.... 0 3 James Chatto Î 6 James Perry, Glasgow 0 3 James Pape. Preston.. 0 2 Pclrce Bickerstaffe.... 1 0 G. Pearce, Henry Street 0 3 Collected (per card) by Julius A. White :—J. A. W.jls.:A.A.,ls.; J. C. N. W., Gd.; J. P. W„ Gd.; J. W., 6d.; A. M. W., 6d.; E. W.f 6d. ;T. C. S., 6d.;T.A.,Cd.;Mr.S., 6d.; R. R. E. W., Gd 6 Amount received up to May, £290 lis, 4d. %* AU Communications to be addressed to the Editor^ Mr. Edwin J. Bbett,173, Fleet Street, E.G. %* We cannot, under any circumstances, undertake to give medical advice in the columns of this Journal. %* Numerous letters stand over for replies. As a rule we cannot undertake to'ans wer our Correspondents In a shorter time than three weeks. Letters must bo prepaid. *** Correspondents who toWi to receive replies by post must in ail cases send stamped directed envelopes. Ignoramus.—The acceptance of the stewardship of the Chiltem Hundreds Is a mere form by which a member can resign his scat in Parliament at any moment. There is also the stewardship of the manor of Poynings, and tho escheatorsnip 01 Munster, for the same purpose. Some trifling emolument is attached to each, because it is only on accepting an office with emolument attached that a member can be allowed to resign. It is an absurd round- about way of doing a thing which any member ought to be enabled to do in a few minutes by a mere letter ad- dressed to tho Speaker. Lightning Jack.—Second class assistant clerks of Excise enter between nineteen and twenty-Ave years of age. The examination comprises writing from dictation and arithmetic* including vulgar and decimal fraction*. You must procure â, nomination through the interest of somo influential person. Clerks enter the Customs between sixteen and twenty-five years of ape. The examination comprises exercises to test handwriting and orthography* arithmetic up to decimal tractions (Inclusive), English composition» geography, and English history. G. II. Cooper.—(l.) No answer can be given, because we have no means of guessing whether you will be a Tom Thumb ôr a Life Guardsman. (2.) Writing will do for an office. Htlton.-P.) You can purchase "Giles Evergreen" in the Böysof England. It commenced In No. 19, and finished in No. 40. (2.) The exchanges will be inserted when the opportunity offers. H. Dudley.—Samuel Lover, the poet a"nd novelist, expired in Jersey, on Monday, the 6th of July, 186$ ', and Ada Isaacs Menken, the equestrian actress, in Paris, 011 Monday afternoon, the 10th of August, in the same year. W. Tuornton.—Wo bind the Journals in half-yearly volumes. You had better send up a correct list of the back numbers that you require; they will cost you Id. per number without postage. W. 8. Carter—(1.) Not particularly. (2.) About the usual length, from 15 to 10 numbers. (3.) It is very probable. (4.) It is not finished yet. (5.) We cannot tell how many back numbers there are. J. M.—(1.) No; not by any means. (2.) Don't be uneasy: Napoleon the ** Great "was a bttlo man, and was callea tho "Little Corporal," and he made some noise in tho world. O. C.-(l.) Certainly, it played for money* (2.) You had better take the one that will pay you the best, and of that you must be the best judge. Jack Rcsuton.—(1.) About 15 numbers. (2.) Oliver Crom- well was born at Huntingdon, Ш9, and died at Whitehall, September 3rd, 163S- (3.) Yes; pretty well. (4.) In tho course 01 time. AULD Town o' Ayr—(1.) Pekin and the number of its in- habitants we mentioned some time since. (2.) Yes; it might do to Commence with as a copying clerk. P. C. N.-(1.) Rather short, but look up. (2.) You will see it advertised. (;s.) It is likely, but it would be second- hand. A Publican.—Wc do not know the peculiar handwriting they require for a corn merchant's office, but wc guess it would do. Wysgfals.—(l.) MS. declined with many thanks; full. (2.) You can purchase a guido to the Civil Service of Messrs. Warne, Bedford Street, Coveut Garden. A. W. C—We feel obliged to you for tho preference, but must most respectfully decline it; it would be totally out of our power to do anything with it. Lizzie—Wo beg to inform our fair correspondent that the number of sewing machines in the United States is un- equalled in any other country. W. W. Workman.—(i.) It has been generally attributed to him. (2.) It has beeri generally attributed to Wheat- stone. Used Up.—Not yet; he has gone ovor to Australia with his wife to show them that there is life In the old dog * yet. O. H. S.—Yes; we think you- are bound to abide by your agreement, however distasteful it may be. X. Y. Z.~(l.) Wc cannot tell you to what height you will grow. (2.) Not at present. Dclston.—Another foolish and unmeaning signature, which does not require any answer. A Would-be Barrister.—To become a barrister, tho first step you must take is to apply at the steward's office of tho inn which you иге desirous of joining, who will furnish you with a printed form, which you will bo required to fill up; and you must then get two barristers to propose you as a fit and proper person to become a member of the inn. You will next be required to pay £150, and enter into several penal bonds for the performance and non-perform- ance of certain acts, and tho pa\ ment of certain other sums of money. You will have to obtain two responsible house- holders to enter into these bonds jointly with yourself. After having passed a classical and general examination, and having attended a practising barrister's chambers for twelve months (which will cost you one hundred guineas), or having attended a certain number of lectures, you will, at the expiration of three years from the date of entry, bo eligible for a call to the bar. A Woüld-be SAILOR.-If you are 17, you дго too old for tho sea, and it would bo very difficult for you to get a berth, becaaso you do not seem to Understand tho common rules of navigation. Boys now, of the very humblest class, aro educated on board, tho training ships, so that, when they are drafted on board ship, they are at once found equal to their duties. You can, however, try an application to any shipowner, and take your chance. Buffalo Bill.—Tho invention of the Golden Number, tho cycle of nineteen years, or the number that shows tho years of the moon's cycle, is ascribed to Meton of Athens, about 432 В. C. To find the Golden Number, or tho year of theHunar cycle, add one to the date, and divido by 19; the quotient is the number of years since Christ, and the re- mainder the Golden Number. The Golden Number is 7 for 1863; 8 for 18G9; 9 for 1870; 10 for 1871. Will-o'-tiie-Wisp,—(l.) The Pyramids of Egypt. (2.) Tho Mausoleum of Mansalus. (3.) The Temple of Diana. (4 ) The Hanging Gardens of Babylon. (5.) Tho Colossus of Rhodes. (6.) The Ivory and Gold Statue of Jupiter Olympus. (7,) Tho Pharos or Watch Tower built by Ptolemy Phlladelphus, King of Egypt. Jeune Artist.—(1.) Do you mean as a student? Í2.) We cannot inform you. You may possibly fret a set of tho rules, &c, upon application to the secretary or the Royal Academy. (3.) It will depend upon the Hanging Com- mittee. (4.) All paintings sent in for exhibition must be framed. Timothy Tugmutton is a sheepish gentleman in tho first place. Before you fell in love you might have learned to spell correctly. No doubt the young lady is all your ** fançy painted her," but in your caso we decline to advise. We should scarcely have thought, from the stylo of your letter, that you were afflicted by bashfulncss. The rest of your note is sheer absurdity. Young Tiiespis.—Virginias was first performed at Covcnt Garden Theatre On the 17th of May, 1820. Mr. Macready was Virginius : Mr. C. lvemble,Icilius; Mr. Abhott. Appius Claud lus; Mr. Terry, Dentatus ; Miss Foote, Virginia, and Miss Faucit, Servia. Foppish Sammy.—(l.) Use the best oatmeal when vou wush your hands, and you will perchance get them wliitc. We have heard that is very efficacious in those cases. (2.) We see no reason to find fault with your penmanship. (3.) The articles on Etiquette have not been published in a separate form. You can have the numbers that contained it forwarded to you. A Bookbinder—If a statue were to be erected to a "modest man," you are that fortunate, and, a* yet. "un- discovered" individual. Your asking us lo tell you how to make "all" the British wines is the most exquisite thing we have heard of for some time. Wo think there is a work upon the subject published by Messrs. Iloutled^e, prico is. You had better procure it. R. Wells—We decline to insert ridiculous titles or names. There is not the slightest sense in the one you sent, (l.) We cannot tell you. Write to him at Newgate. (2.) Con- sult any of the clever practitioners at the Opthalmlc H >s- pital. (3.) The price is 4s. (4.) The play, characters, &c, 8d. ; the stage, lamps, &c, Is, 7d. Meum and Tüdm (Cork).—(l.) All your questions have been answered at least a hundred times And so you don't understand your signature}?— Mine and Thine ; and see that you keep to it through life. (2.) Whichever you like. A Young PniLosopnEB.—There Avas such an Instrument some years ago ; but we believe it failed; at all events we hear nothing ot it now. We wilDnake inquiries for you in the matter. P. Q.—Sorry wo cannot Inform you of auy remedy; but if you look over tho newspapers you will see advertisements relating to tho matter which may assist you. John Siiadwell,—(1.) No; it is not good enough for any office at present. (2.) In due course of time otio will appear. E. English You will find in the Boys of the Would a stirring sea talc, ** On the Verge of the Gulf." (;.'.) Your writing will suit amcrcliant's coutitiug-liou&o, A Lambetii Lad is informed that tho drama of " Lifo in London" was originally performed at the old Adelnhi Theatre. Benbow.—Persuade your sisters to buv the •* Boys of England Swimming Guide." You cannot have a better, as the timo is coming on for bathing. Excelsior.—You do not seem to have progressed with t he ago. Consult tho letters of Lord Chesterfield to his son; perhaps you may profit by them. W. S. Millett.—Wo sincerely hope that the Life Boat wiil be ready by the next year; when completed Its place of destination will then be determined upou. G. S. C.-(L) Very fair for your ago. (2.) Wc cannot give you any directions how to make the instrument you men- tion. (3.) Yes; but everybody lives in hopes of a "riso." Old Lance.—There is no enlisting at present going on, but a great reduction in tho army is taking place both at home and abroad. G. E. K.-(l.) Wo arc not In want of any of the articles you write about. (2.) Tho gifts arc given to our sub scribers. Bicycle Bob—We should think that the bright parts might be kept free from rust by well oiling them. We aro not aware of any work upon the subject. Том Lester (l.) How can we tell you; heights vary. (2.) Capital ; the best we have seen for a long time. Ned Summers.—** Giles Evergreen " will consist of about и numhers. No doubt others will follow. S. McCulloch.—You can have any ol the Volumes you speak of sent you post free 'or 4s. Cd. Robin Hood.—(1.1 Thanks for your compliments. (2.) Your handwriting U admirably adapted for either. W.H. S.—(l.) We never prescribe for the "ills the flesh is heir to." (2.) The writing is not very good, W. I. T.—The first number of tho Boys of England was published November 16th, ШС. E. J. Keane You can have them sent for 12 stamps. A Reader.—Ye»; very suitable. W. H. IL—The author says the two former. 416 [June i, ад. BOYS OF ENGLAND. Africa.-(1.) Plenty of good hunting; some of it rather hazardous. (2.) Yes; and for some time if you shot or killed your adversary. (3.) Tho elephant, which was formerly common in the colony, is now driven away; tho lion and the leopard are .stltl met among tho mountain ranges; hyenas, jackals, wild dogs, bears, and porcu- pines are very numerous, and to vary the amusement, the rivers swarm with lively crocodiles. (4.) The History of Africa. Ask your bookseller. (5.) We are not skilled in the art and mystery of hair dyes. (6.) If he thinks proper. SnoRxnAND Whites—"We cannot inform yon where you can procure the work you «peak of. To tho best of our recollection, it was originally published by Mr. Lloyd, Salisbury Square, Fleet Street. F. Mabbiett—Odel's and "Pitman's we have heard highly spoken of, but we believe that Mr. Gurney's stands at the head of the profession. J. Hemingway.—We aro not aware of any work upon the subject you write about. We feel glad you are pleased with the advice we gave you. Captain Bowleb—(l.) Very shortly. (2.) Yes; your heightis very good, and so is your weight, but we cannot exactly say to what height you will attain. (3.) Plain food. (4.) We aro unable to inform you. Consult a clever veterinary surgeon. Baboon.—(l.) Yes; tho malformation Is incurable. (2.) It will tend to invljroratc tho system. (3.) Wo do not. (4.) No t but it is likely that you will have to enduro all tho horrors of tho nightmare. P. Callaohan.—Tho MS. forwarded to us is declined with many thanks. Tho next one you write do it In tho best black ink. Omeoa.—If youllkoyou can send tho tale, and It shall bo read, but wo warn you that we have already a great num- ber In hand. Той Lestée—(1.) The first clock wo believe put up in England was at tho Canterbury Cathedral, 12Э2. (2.) öorry wo have not the recipe you ask about. II. J. В—Tawall. the Quaker, was executed for murder, March 28th, 1845. Ho was apprehended through the acency of the electric wire. Apbil 2nd.—Wo cannot gratify you In any way. There arc plenty of cheap books with recipes for thoso things. LAUGHTER- FOR THE MILLION, AU should read our new Comical, Historical and Whim- sical Narrative, entitled, WAT TYLER! OR, WHO'S YOUR HATTER? A Story of Fighting, Frolic, and Fun. DATE.-THIRTEEN HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-ONE. By tho Author of "Crusoe tho Comic/* " Robin Hood," &c„ &c. This CAP-tivating history, well worthy of yonr HAT- tention, will bo Illustrated in our Artist's best s-TYLE, BEGINS IN OUR NEXT NUMBER. GRAND GIFTS WITH THE "BOYS OF THE WORLD." Mit. Edwin J. Brett has great pleasure in calling attention to a series of Gifts which, when complete, will form one of the most interesting and splendid Plays ever placed before the Public. The wholô of this BEATTTIFÜL PLAY will be PRESENTED GRATIS WITH THE "BOYS OF THE WORLD," And will consist of SIXTEEN LARGE SHEETS OF SCENES, CHARACTERS, SIDE WINGS, FOOT PIECES, &c, &o. Also a New Play Book, written by one of tho best Dramatic Authors of the day, WILL BE PRESENTED GRATIS. The Title of the Grand New Historical Play will be king AND THE KNIGHTS of the ROUND TABLE. The First Two Sheets were PRESENTED GRATIS wira Ko. 33 of the ««Boys of the World." Tho Gifts to be continued Weekly. GRAND GIFTS! GBAND GIFTS! WITH THE VOX-TXJVEE OP THE BOYS OF ENGLAND. IMPORTANT! Mr. EDWIN J. BRETT wishes to call BPEOIAL ATTEN- TION to the following GRAND GIFTS that have been up- wards of twelve months in preparation, and although they have cost ONE THOUSAND POUNDS, NO CHARGE Will be made to tho Readers of the BOYS OF ENGLAND. These Novel and Instructive Gifts, when finished, wül measure ßl FEET LONG, and will bo entitled, THE BOYS OF ENGLAND'S GRAND PANORAMA of OLD AND MODERN LONDON, from the BANKS OF THE THAMES. An Original and Illustrated Record of Historical and Social Events, introducing many novel and startling effects, which will amuso and instruct our Headers, young and old. The Views will consist of Historical and Celebrated Buildings. OUR STARTING POINT WILL BE FIRST SCENE. - GREENWICH HOSPITAL, with MOVEABLE Ships, Boats, and tho Man-of-war, "Vic- tory bearing the body of Nelson. SECOND SÖENE.»TRAITOR'S GATE, TOWER OF LONDON, vrith MOVEABLE Boats, and a Bargo con- veying tho Princess Elizabeth, Sir Thomas Wyatt, and Captain Brett to the Tower. THIRD SCENE.-THE CUSTOM HOUSE, with MOVE- ABLE Figures, representing the Thames Police in pursuit of River Pirates. FOURTH SCENE.-BILLINGSGATE MARKET.- Ariival of the Fish and Oyster Boats, MOVEABLE Ships, &c 4» FIFTH SCENE. - SOMERSET HOUSE, timo 1740. MOVEABLE Boats, Soldiers, &c, in pursuit of Jacobites. Fight on tho Thames. SIXTH SCENE.-FAIR ON THE THAMES, during the Great Frost of 1709, showing tho Booths, Shows, &c This Scene, when built up, will represent a perfect Model of tho Fair on the Thames. SEVENTH SCENE.-0LD WHITEHALL, with MOVE- ABLE Figures, and the State Barge, with King Charles I., and his Courtiers passing I EIGHTH SCENE.-HOUSE OF LORDS, WESTMIN- STER.—Grand MOVEABLE Procession of the Lord Mayor's Show by Water. Time, 1847. NINTH SCENE.-LAMBETH PALACE--MOVEABLE Figures. Archbishop Laud being conveyed prisoner to Lambeth Palace. TENTH SCENE.-THE PENITENTIARY PRISON, MILLBANK.-MOVEABLE Figures. Pursuit and cap- ture of a Convict by the Thames Police. ELEVENTH SCENE.-VIEW OF HAMMERSMITH during the great Boat-race. Large MOVEABLE Figures representing the Oxford and Cambridge crews, boats, &a TWELFTH SCENE-PALACE OF HENRY VIII. AT RICHMOND, with MOVEABLE Figures engaged in a Water Tournament. THIRTEENTH SCENE.-VIEW OF WINDSOR CAS- TLE AND ETON COLLEGE, with grand MOVEABLE Procession of the Scholars by Water. And numerous other Scenes, which we have not space to describe. IMPORTAKT. With tho above will bo given the BOYS OF ENGLAND LECTURE BOOK, containing a full description of each building, and an historical account of the principal events with which the Moveable Figures are associated; making tho above Grand Gifts ПОМЕ AMUSEMENT AND INSTRUC- TION FOR FATHER AND SON. NOTICE. STAGES of a Novel construction, with full directions fer exhibiting the BOYS OF ENGLAND'S GRAND PANORAMA Arc In activo preparation. A SPLENDID GIFT! NEXT WEEK! With N"o. 184 of tbe BOYS OF ЕШШГО Being the commencement of the New Vplume, wo shall present to all our Readers a valuable and PRINTED Ш TEN COLOURS, REPRESENTING THE Fight for the Royal Standard at the Battle of Sedgemoorv This Splendid Picture will bo full of historical interest; and worthy a good frame; and we advise our friends to order early No. 184, with tho GRAND PICTURE, GRATIS. Also in thé samo No. will commence a New Story, entitled, MONMOUTH: OR, THE AXE AND CROWN. REMEMBER Ï In No. 185 will commence MR. JAMES GREEENWOOD'S GREAT NEW STORY of JOE STERLING: OR, A RAGGED FORTUNE. ORDER No. 184 of tho BOYS OP ENGLAND for tho Beautiful Picture in Colours, and the New Story of Monmouth -, and No. 185 for tho New Story of Joe Sterling, with tho First Scene and First Sheet of Moveable Figures for THE BOYS OF ENGLAND'S GRAND PANORAMA, GRATIS. NOTICE TO ALL! MR. JAMES GREENWOOD, the Author of "JACK Stedpast,'.' is specially enga^ed'to write for tho " Boys ov England »* a New Story, entitled, JOE STERLING: OK, A RAGGED FORTUNE. Wo believe this will bo one of the best stories Mr. Green- wood has ever written, and our readers may rest assured They have a treat in store. With tho commencement of Mr. Greenwood's new story in No. 185 of tho Boys op England, wg shall give the first scene and first sheet of Moveable Figures of tho Boys op England' Grand Panorama. t NOTICE. "YOUNG MEN OF GREAT BRITAIN" AND "BOYS OF ENGLAND" GUIDE-BOOKS, Price Twopence each; po$tfreet Threepence. 1. GUIDE-BOOK FOR ROWING AND GYM- NASTICS. 2. GUIDE-BOOK FOR WALKING, RUNNING, JUMPING, FOOTBALL, &c. 3. GUIDE-BOOK FOR FENCING. 4. GUIDE-BOOK FOR SWIMMING. 5. GUIDE-BOOK FOR CRICKET. G. GUIDE-BOOK FOR ANGLING. Every Young Man and Boy who is anxious for good health should purchase these Manuals, tho best and sim- plest ever issued. ORDER OF ALL BOOKSELLERS. NOW READY, Part Ш. of THE RIVAL APPRENTICES; A TALE OF THE RIOTS OF 1780. / price Ы. PART XLI. of the BOYS OF ENGLAND IS NOW READY, Prlco Sixpence -, огДРопЬ free from our office, Sevcnpenco NOTICE.—GRATIS WITH NEXT WEEK'S NUMBER, THE COLOURED PICTURE OE THE EIGHT FOR THE STANDARD. Printed and Published for the Proprietor, Edwin J. Brett, 173, Fleet Street, London, E.G. I