female apparel in his trunk in the little
bed-room of the Pigeon's Arms. " There
goes in my aunt's little black mantle. There
goes in Cousin Janet's crumpled bonnet.
When I have paid for the hire of the cottage
in Abbeyfield Lane, and the carriage, and
the wardrobe, and the sixpence to old Benson
for bringing it down, I think it will leave
that old ruffian's conscience clear, for he will
exactly have paid me the two hundred and
thirty pounds he borrowed from my father,
with interest for nine years."

THE FLOWING OF THE WATERS.

"To conclude in a moist relentment."
SIR THOMAS BROWNE.

As I lay in peace profound,
In the dawn, I heard a sound
Like the noise of many fountains,
Which, self-freed from icy chains,
Aided by the conquering rains,
Leap and triumph down the mountains.

I look'd out, and found it so—
Fresh from the Eastern lands, the glow
Of the young day, newly risen,
Struck the hills a golden blow —
They that, but a day ago,
Like the wall of some blank prison,
Stared against my windows, showing
Nothing moving, nothing growing,
Nothing save those crags and stones
Which are the world's gigantic bones:
But the waters now were flowing,
And the loosen'd brooks and fountains
Made strange movements on the mountains;
Till, with the continual gliding,
And the lapsing, and the sliding,
And the watery revolving,
All the sharp peaks seem'd dissolving,
And the rocky hardness streaming
Into rivers soft and gleaming,
That pour on with ceaseless motion
To the ever-abiding ocean.

The frost was dead, the frost was slain,
The warmth of the heavens was felt again;
And the earth, that so long had pined and starv'd —
Till the hills and the trees and the fields seem'd carv'd
In cold black marble, heavy and grim,
And grotesque as tombstone cherubim,
(Except when the Sun sloped down to his rest,
And redden'd the pine-trees out in the west,) —
Old mother Earth, with glad new cheer,
Laugh'd in the face of the baby Year.

Her two months' spell at last was broken.
Out of the forests, warm and deep,
The voice of the wakening birds had spoken,
And the waters leapt from their Winter sleep.
They felt the electrical breath of Spring
(Who was yet far off on the southern plains)
Strike downward through the innermost ring
Of the crystalline ice that bound their veins:
They felt the touch of that viewless Hand
Which, over the arch of the starry spheres,
In motion regular, smooth, and bland,
Rolls the days and the weeks and the months and
the years;-
And they burst into being like joyful tears.
From their virgin chambers, secret and far,
From stalactite palaces, quaintly pearl'd,
From cells of granite and caves of spar,
From the ocean-heart of the orbed world, —
Out of the pores of the sparkling ground
They came with an earth-awakening sound,
Throbbing with energy, loud with glee,
Dancing in music down to the sea.

What restless gleaming, twinkling, flashing!
What winding, twisting, meeting, clashing!
What curve and sway and gentle play
Of waters bending every way!
What rounded lines! what arrowy light!
What grace and softness, link'd with might!
What change from the hard, blind, dumb Last
Night!

The Winter grey had pass'd away,
Like a ghost before the broadening day:
The young Spring time from a warmer clime
Murmur'd in my heart like rhyme;
And the music of that gladness
Mingled with the billowy madness;
As two voices, subtly blended
Down the current of one song
Float, by many echoes tended —
An enchantment deep and strong.
The shaken air methought was rife
With sounds of a removed life,
Beyond the leafy Summer lying;
And the waves still hurried by,
Underneath the Sun's great eye,
With a multitudinous crying.
February hung his head;
March was coming in his stead;
And the frost lay in its shroud,
And the world was bright and loud.

WOLF NURSES.

THE story of Romulus and Remus being
suckled by a wolf is accepted as fabulous:
but the following statement is strictly true.

In the Kingdom of Oude, some ten years
ago, a male child of about eighteen months old
was missed by its parents. It was supposed
to have been carried away and devoured by
the wolves, which are very plentiful in that
part of the world. Every winter numbers of
children are destroyed by these animals, not
only in Oude, but in our own provinces in the
north-west.

About seven years after the child was
missing, a man who gained his livelihood by
shooting in the jungles saw a wolf and several
cubs, and with them an animal such as he had
never seen before. It was like a boy, but ran
upon all fours. The man followed the animal,
but was unable to keep pace with it; he
traced it, however, to a den, and a few days
afterwards succeeded in taking the animal
alive. It barked, or rather snarled and
growled like a wolf, and attempted to bite
its captor. The she-wolf and her cubs followed
the man for some distance, and several
times showed symptoms of a desire to rescue
the animal; but, as the man was armed, they