had been rather rough during our few hours'
voyage from the mainland—much rougher than I
expected—and as I am no better sailor than
nine-tenths of the human race, I felt a little qualmy.
My companions immediately put off again to fish,
and I was soon left to make friends with a few
seagulls.

Having comforted myself with a little brandy
and biscuit that I carried with me, I struggled
up through the reeds, stones, and long grass, and
prepared to begin my work. I got upon a
hillock, and took a survey of the island through a
telescope. The prospect was not encouraging.
As far as I could see, there was nothing but a
dead level of swampy earth and grass, broken
here and there with small hillocks, like the one
on which I stood. The island was stated by
geographical authorities to be about ten miles long,
and twelve broad, but the inequalities of the
ground would not allow my telescope to range
over a third of this space. As there was no
house or hut in sight, nor any sign of a human
being, I was compelled to walk on in the
discharge of my duty. I strode along in the
direction of the rising ground in front, now
plunging into a hole, now stumbling over grass-
covered blocks of stone, and blessing the practical
genius who invented roads. One mile of walking
on Swamp Island was equal to four miles on
the mainland.

In about two hours I reached the distant
ridge, and still found no traces of inhabitants. I
was rather disappointed at this, though not
surprised, for I could see nothing to tempt any one
to settle on such a spot. The earth was chalky,
and the vegetation scanty, to say nothing of the
want of society. If the three inhabitants who
had figured in a former census had deserted the
place, I felt that I could scarcely blame them.

I altered my course at this point, and followed
the line of a shallow valley. I had not proceeded
far, when I came to traces of mud, and a little
farther on to a narrow channel of water. Keeping
along the side of this inland stream, which I
soon found to be a long tidal creek running down
to the sea, I came suddenly on a large flat-
bottomed boat—something between a fishing-
punt and a barge—moored close to a bank on
which stood a low hut, built chiefly with turf
and stones. I lost no time in pushing open the
half-closed door of this hut, and was met by a
dense cloud of smoke which nearly choked and
blinded me. It came from a fire of damp wood.
When the fumes had partly blown off, I peeped
through the door again, and saw an old man
kneeling on the turf-floor, blowing the embers
with his mouth. His dress was ragged; almost
theatrical in its tatters, and his long dirty beard
dragged through the ashes.

"Stand, out of the draught," he said angrily,
without turning round," and don't thwart me,
pampered menial!"

I thought the style and tone of this address
somewhat peculiar, and I soon explained who I
was, and on what errand I came.

"Census?" he said, standing up, and looking
at me; "why am I hunted about in this way?
I come miles beyond the land's-end, for quiet—
solitude—air. I can't breathe in cities—no man
can breathe in cities;—I fly to nature, and want
to be left alone."

"We shall not trouble you again for ten
years," I returned, amiably; "perhaps not
then."

"Ten years!" he said, contemptuously,—
"what's ten years—what's twenty years—to one
who has lived for centuries?"

"Eh?" I answered, pricking up my ears at
this, "lived for centuries?"

"Yes," he said, "I have just completed my
one-hundred-and-seventy-sixth year."

"This sounds very remarkable," I replied,
"and it is almost as strange to find you living in
such a desert as this."

"You may think so," he said, shortly, "I
don't."

"What name will you put down in this paper?"
I asked, producing the official form, "and what
profession?"

"Profession?" he inquired, vacantly.

"Occupation," I replied, "Calling—in fact.
What are you?"

"Ha, ha!"

"That's no answer," I said, in a dignified
manner.

"What am I?" he continued; "what am I
not? Do you think my history can be crammed
into a line, or into a thousand lines? You've
asked for it, and you shall have it. Sit down
and hear it."

I squatted on the turf floor in obedience to
this request, which sounded like a command, and
my wild-man-of-the-woods-looking host soon
squatted opposite me.

"I am prepared," he began, "for any amount
of doubt when I say that I never knew who my
parents were; but I despise doubt, and those
who feel it. I was found in a wood in a
neighbourhood that it is idle to name, because it was
destroyed by an earthquake more than a hundred
years ago. I was discovered walking on my
hands and feet, climbing trees like a squirrel,
and feeding on grass and moss. The early
habits thus implanted in me have never altogether
left me, and this is why you find me now living
contented on what you contemptuously term 'a
desert.' Many ignorant people were frightened
at my singular appearance, for my colour, at that
time, was nearly black——"

"I beg your pardon," I said, "but what do
you call your colour now '?"

"No matter," he replied, "I hate to be
interrupted."

"A huge dog," he continued, "was set at me,
but I awaited his attack without stirring from
the place, and gave him such a blow over the
head with a club which I held in my hand, that
the animal fell dead, and his master became
respectful. After this feat I climbed a tree and
took a little repose on a branch, but was allured