efforts of British and American navigators,
we may be enabled to fill up the many blank
and uncertain spaces in our great Air Map.

GONE!

I HAVE the letter yet, Minnie,
You sent tlie very day
That gave your first-born to your arms,
And I was far away.
I saw through every trembling line
How precious was the boy,
How pleasure shook the weakened hand
That wrote to wish me joy.

Of all thy mother's little ones,
The plaything and the pet,
Poor children, lovingly they come
To rock the cradle yet;
And, knowing not how sound his sleep,
All arts to wake him try.
Alas! from so much love, Minnie,
To think that he should die !

Look at the small pure hand, Minnie,
So motionless in mine,
I used to let it, soft and warm,
About my finger twine.
And as it fastened in my heart
That slight uncertain hold,
Its touch will linger on my hand
Till my hand too is cold.

Our bridal day; that summer day!
Dost thou remember now?
Joy's blossoms were unsullied then
As those about thy brow.
Thank God! I have my fair bride still;
And, by thy loving eye,
Thou wouldst not give me up, Minnie,
E'en that he might not die.

A Heaven of safety and repose;
Ah! should we wish him back
From its clear lights and thornless flowers
To tread life's dusty track.
Think what a radiant little one
Shall meet us by-and-bye.
And yet that he should die, Minnie—
Alas, that he should die!

BAD LUCK AT BENDIGO.

Arrived at Melbourne on the nineteenth
of September, I took an early opportunity
of distributing my pile of letters of
introduction. Found, that although addressed
by influential people to influential people,
they were altogether valueless. Influential
friends in England were at that time showing
no mercy to the Melbourne people, who
received a great many more draughts upon
their courtesy than it was possible for them
to honour.

I agreed then to join a party of my fellow
passengers, and try fortune's temper with
them at the diggings. All the tools and
implements which my new friends had brought
from London being buried at the bottom of
the ship's hold, we were told that some days
must elapse before they could be disinterred.
As for myself, I had taken out only a knapsack
and a sea chest. If I ever were to make
the trip again I should take only a knapsack.
Not meaning to be detained for an indefinite
time we resolved, bold Layards that
we were, to institute some excavations on our
own account. We set to work therefore at
once, and had no lack of curious discoveries.
Barrels of flour, casks of stout, bags of sugar,
bales of slops, buts of water, bundles of
spades, we dragged and hauled about,
meeting with a little of everything except
the things we wanted. After lighting an
unlawful lantern, and exploring all the
crannies, we at last saw, at the bottom of a
well dug through the other merchandize, a
cart. We hoped it was our own, and after
several hours' labour, during which we moved,
among other articles, a grand piano in a
case, we came down cleverly upon it. "Just
you let that air cart alone, will you?" Truly
we had no right to touch it, for it was not
ours. More hours' labour, and at last we
got our property together; ours, because I
had bought my share in it. The cart had
been brought out, in the innocent belief that
horses were to be bought at about fifteen
pounds each. The price of a horse we found
was about seventy pounds. One we learnt
also would not be enough; two would be
required, and they would very likely be both
stolen before the week was out. Tools of all
kinds which we had brought from the other
end of the world were to be bought at the
diggings, from men leaving, at a trifle less
than the common London price. Nobody
carried picks and shovels out from Melbourne
with him. The best thing we could do we
did; put everything into a sale, and so got
rid of all encumbrance.

The only thing we did not sell, of all our
London importations, was a tent, which we
proposed sending to the diggings by a carrier.
After a search through the town which cost
us a whole day, we at last found a carrier
starting to Bendigo—our destination—who
for the moderate sum of eight guineas,
engaged to take charge of our gold-diggers'
home.

The next morning we were up betimes,
had an early breakfast, and equipped ourselves
in marching order. Each of us strapped
on a belt, containing a revolver, an axe, and
a knife; each carried on his shoulders a knapsack
and blanket, and slung by his side a
havresack with bread, meat, and a can for
water. So furnished, off we started. The
transition from town to bush is very abrupt,
and in a few minutes we seemed to have
passed all traces of civilisation. We halted
at midday, and dined. After an hour's rest
strapped on our "swag" again and went our
way. At sunset we found ourselves in
a rough-looking country, abounding with
volcanic boulders, and very scant of trees.