Lotteenof a stick he had provided, that he drew tears from his eves An' at every blow he gave him he sed to shout I'll rancue you, ye villain', till he run him complaitly out of the place for the bare life. "Well, Judy,' says the good man in the mornin', I seen the hairy monster last night you war takin' of.' "O, Lord!" says she, quite frightened, did you spake to him, or what did he say, or what did he do at all? O, Paddy, ma hudgeen ma chree, I'm prayin' all aight for yer safe deliverance from the baste. O, how did ye escape from him that he didn't kill and murther ye? tell us it all for the sake of goodness, Pat honey! "Bedad,' ses he, yer a purty woman to be frightened at sich a thing; shure wasn't it the pooka ye seen, you omedhawn, that a child 'id know on the road if he met it: an' though you can't say ye war ploughin' wid the pooka, yet ye can say ye war spinnin' wid him, which is all the same-ha! ha! ha! Bud any how I settled him wid a touch of my stick, that he'll feel for a month.' “O, did you strike the crathur?' she inquired; ⚫ you'll never have an hour's luck if you did, peugh a hug, to meddle at all wid the poor thing.' 66 6 Ah! thin' if I didn't,' he remarked wid a sneer, lave it till to-morrow; I'll engage that he won't come to-night, nor to-morrow night, nor the next night, nor the night after, nor any night: wait now, an' you'll see that my word 'ill come in thrue.' "An' shure enough he tould only the truth, for the never a sight of the pooka the good woman saw afterward, though she spun every night in the same house. Bud Imust tell, although the pooka never wint to the glin any more, he had it in for Paddy, an' watched every opportunity to revinge himself on him, for the usage he got at the fire. An' as he moped home one night from the fair of Hacketstown, bastely drunk, shoutin' for the sight of a fellow to fight him, what should he come to bud an ass, grazin' along the road side, just a little above Clonmore-street. As the divelmint was in him, an' could let nothin' alone, he gives the poor ass a kick, at the same time givin' a whoop that made it start out on the middle of the road. "Ah thin, Paddy Kinnedy,' ses the ass quite pitiful, lookin' up to him, ye oughtn't strike a poor dumb animal in that way: may be ye'd want him to carry ye home, an' you so drunk, an' the way so bad.' Why shure enough yer right,' says Paddy, not takin' any notice it was an ass was spakin'; 'I never wanted a lift so bad.' "Get up here thin,' ses the ass, an' I'll see ye home, an' not like other people chargin', I'll carry ye grakissly to your very door; its a thing I don't like to see honest min in a hobble whin they get heady.' "So he was barely saited on the ass's back whin he grew as big as a runny-serious (rhinoceros,) an' on the first jump lit over on top of the pooka head here, wid a sock that brought Pat to his sinses, who opened his eyes an' discovered his mistake too late. Well, Paddy,' ses the big ass, turnin' round wid a sneer, 'ar' we on the right road home to your cabin ?' 666 666 Ah, no! yer honour,' ses Paddy, thinkin' to butter him up a bit, shure it's above in the hollow of Goold I live; this isn't the way at all; you know where it is, a little above Kilahookawn stone; do bring me there for the love of But, before he could say another syllable, the ass made a splaugh, an' a kick-up, that made poor Pat trimble lest he should fall off, an' be smashed into a thousand pieces on the rubbish below. 666 Bedad I ought to know it,' ses the ass, for I got a good whalin' there, for nothin' at all, only warm.in myself; bud now I'll have satisfaction on the, | rascal'-an' he gave another kick up, twice as high as the former; after which, he bounded from one tower to another, an' through old windows, an' spyholes, an' cracks, and crevices, wid the agility of a puckawn, scrapin' the skin off of poor Paddy's back, shoulders, an' sides, an' crushin him so tight that he thought every bone in his pelt was in mummy. O, murther alive, Mr. Pooka dear,' he roared out, ar' ye goin to commit shuicide on a poor man that was bad enough afore? let me down aisy an' I'll never offend ye agin; do, yer honour, an' while there's breath in my body I'll offer up a prayer for yer welfare, mornin' an' evenin', lyin' an' risin', sleepin' an' wakin', an' every time it will be in yer road.' Next "But all his prayers was in vain-out the ass took through brakes of briars, an' skaugh hedges, ould shores, an' ditches, an' furze bushes, over hills, rocks, woods, valleys, lakes, rivers, an' says through Spain an' Portingale, an' Maxico, the East an' West Indees, an' Botamy Bay, the Atlantic an' Pacific Oceans; an' in short there wasn't a spot on the earthly globe that he didn't bring him through. mornin' there was a great search for the missin' man, whin his friends found him lyin' at the but of the moat there above, awfully bruised an' scraped, an' not able to stir wid the pains of his wounds. He was immediately conveyed home on a bearer, an' I heard it tould that he didn't recover for nearly twelve months after." "But what become of the pooka after?" we inquired. 66 O, he was as quite as ever to the people about here, an' used to be doin' little things at night for thim; bud they say that a pooka never likes to be rewarded for any thing that way: an' after he helpin' Jim the weaver's daughters to spin a great piece of linen intirely, the ould man had a boddace made of it for him, by way of recompince for his trouble. No sooner was it fitted on him than he was quite vext, for the spell was broken, an' utterin' a loud screech of adieu to the castle of Clonmore, since I got sleeves to my elbow,' he vanished from their presence. He thin took up his abode in ould Mick Price's mill on the height, an' thought to make as familiar wid the colleens as he used her, (for it seems he was very fond of the girls, like the most of us,) bud they war afeard to have any thing to do wid him, not being acquainted wid sich a thing, He used to sleep every night by the kiln fire, warmin' himself well, an' every one was shy to go in where he was, bud used to be wishin' daily to get shut of him, but to no purpose--he still kep' his ground. At length some onld woman advised old Mick to turn in a big pig to him, an' that he would soon lave it. So, my dear life, a brawn was hunted into the kiln next evening' quite early; the poor pooka beared it well the first and second night, bud (as they have a great aversion to swines,) findin' him there the third night, he came out an' accosted Mick in the bawn, who was ready to die wid the fright-Is that a shath (boar) in the mill,' he inquired with unearthly tone. 66 6 'Yes,' said Mick, quakin' wid fear. "Will you lave the shath in the mill always he said agin. 66 6 66 Yes,' ses Mick. "The shath always in the mill!' he roared out in dispair. Well, since it is so, adieu to the mill.' From that day to this, there never was sight or light of the pooka about Clonmore, although he may be in the hole still for all we know; bud if he is, he keeps very close." The rain having now abated, after thanking our kind informant for his attention, we departed on our way, not without musing as we went along on the strange things we heard and learned in the course of that eventful day. M. AERIAL STEAM CARRIAGE. This is a name which has been given to a new machine, for which a company has taken out a patent, and which is to convey passengers, goods, and despatches through the air, performing the journey from London to India in four days! and to travel at the rate of from 75 to 100 miles per hour. At the first glance of such an announcement our readers will doubtless feel disposed to treat it as some chimerical absurdity, written merely to excite wonder, and expressly for the marvel-loving mass of society; but the facts connected with the subject are of a kind to diminish disbelief, at least as to the truth of such a contrivance being in process of formation. A company of gentlemen is really formed, even of mechanical men: the patent was formally sealed on the 29th of September last, and systematic arrangements are in progress to complete the design. At least, this would prove that the inventors and their supporters are well convinced of the certainty of the invention; and, wonderful as may appear this announced stride in science, we may surely pause in our incredulity when we remember with what unbelief the proposition to light London with an invisible fluid was received_ and when we know that seventy years since we should have been deemed madmen if we had stated that we should thereafter travel at the rate of forty to sixty miles an hour. In such an age of improvement, we really have no right or precedent to deny the possibility of this measure; and, therefore, we allude as we do to the fact of such a steam-carriage being, not only contemplated, but in the engineer's hands, to be borne on the air, unlike the principle of the balloon, and to which even the winds are to be made subservient! The subject is one so replete with matter for speculation, that we will not venture to point out the consequences which would occur-still, not denying the rapid transit to be practicable, and even likely to be carried into operation; but in January the machine will be thoroughly organised, and until then we take leave of the subject, and only trust that this alleged invention is neither exaggerated, nor an Utopian project: and, from the conversation we had with those in connexion with the design, we have every reason to believe that neither is the case. Atlas. THE PATIENT.-Patience, preservance, and vigour are three essences, as it were, of which honourable ambition is composed and maintained. It is however true, that men are, from their inconstancy, more capable of obtaining their ends by vigorous efforts, than by long perseverance. Patience under privation is a divine quality. Disappointment is a melancholy tutor; but frequent disappointment is the parent of patience. Hence we bear those pains best to which we have been most accustomed. Hence it arises that some sustain mental pains better than bodily ones; and other bodily pains better than those of the mind. But that, in general, bodily pain is the less able to bear, is proved by the circumstance, that, before a mental pain can be felt at all, a great bodily one must be relieved. REMARKABLE FACT.-Although there were on each day 40,000 persons at the late races of Caher, not a blow was struck, and very few drunken men were seen! TRUTH AND FALLACY-As a child selects the in gaudy but imperative rattle, in preference to the plain but effective, so is man prone, in matters of truth and fallacy, to incline to the latter. Truth, having always effectiveness in view, must appear the garb of moderation; while fallacy, on the other hand, uninfluenced by the same consideration, has at command all the gaudy colours of the chameleon. THE LAST HOPE OF THE EXILE. Of that home of my youth, which my heart loves so well. HUMAN SKELETONS.-The size of skeletons varies very much, ranging from thirty-five inches to eight feet. The gigantic skeleton of the Irishman Surgeons in London, measures eight-feet two inches. O'Brien, preserved in the museum of the College of What is called the middle size in man, is about five feet four inches; in woman, about five feet. When the bones have been cleaned and dried, the weight of an ordinary male skeleton ranges from ten to thirteen pounds; of a female one, from eight to nine SELFISHNESS. This is fallen self-love, and is so nearly allied to it, that though a whole host of French philosophers have laboured to explain satisfactorily the difference between amour propre and amour de soi, they have done little more than confuse and embarrass their readers, who are, however, pretty well convinced, before they have half perused their writings, that from the grand selfishness denominated ambition, to the more circumscribed selfishness denominated avarice, there is not a single passion incident to the natural heart which this odious vice does not either dictate, modify, or controul.-Dublin University. PROPERTY. This communicates a charm to whatever is the object of it. It is the first of our abstract ideas; it cleaves to us the closest and longest. It endears to the child its plaything, to the peasant his cottage, to the landholder his estate. It supplies the place of prospect and scenery. Instead of covering the beauty of distant situations, it teaches every man to find it in his own. It gives boldness and grandeur, and tinge and colouring to clays and fallows. MOTHERLY LOVE.-Last among the characteristics of woman is that sweet motherly love with which nature has gifted her; it is almost independent of cold reason, and wholly removed from all selfish hope of reward. Not because it is lovely, does the mother love her child, but because it is living part of herself the child of her heart, a fraction of her own nature. In every uncorrupted nation of the earth this feeling is the same. Climate, which changes everything else, changes not that. SOFT WORDS.-A kind refusal is sometimes as gratifying as a bestowal. He who can alleviate the pain of an ungracious act is unpardonable unless he do so. CURBING PASSION.-An indifferent pilot will guide a ship in smooth water: to repress our rising passion in the midst of provocation, will prove that we can handle the helm in a storm. REVIVAL OF IRISH MUSIC AND SONG. The third anniversary festival of the Society for the revival of Irish music and song was held in the Linenhall, Drogheda, on the 1st November. There was a very large attendance. The room was brilliantly lighted and decorated with appropriate banners. The venerable bards and minstrels occupied a platform at the head of the room. The Rev. Mr. Burke, president, founder, and chief supporter of the society, was received, on entering the Hall shortly after six o'clock, with enthusiastic greetings. Having taken his seat at the head of the table, the company partook of tea. During the repast the harpists played several old Irish airs with excellent effect. After tea, the Rev. Mr. Burke addressed the assembly in a fervent and eloquent strain." What were we, said he, three years ago?-a people scattered and scorned, and trodden down under the burden of intemperance-ignorant alike of the blessings of social comforts and rational THE ASTEROIDS OF NOVEMBER. ance noticed abroad has been a series of bright scin- DESTRUCTION OF WHEAT amusements. What are we now ?-united under the sacred banner of temperance, our physical and moral condition improved, and our national character respected. This night twelve months we had not one in our society who could strike the harp; now we have in our Drogheda Irish Harp Society more harps and harpers than are to be found in Ireland altogether. There are many reasons why we should rejoice in the revival of our national instrument, and feel proudly in our right to exclusive possession of the harp, the most ancient of musical instruments. All other inBY SPARROWs.—A struments,' says the eminent composer, Haydn, speak curious calculation has been made of the consumption but to the ear, but the Irish harp speaks to the heart.' of grain by these birds. A farmer, in the space of Unless the harp be again revived, the superior excelone square mile, in the course of twelve months, killed lence of Irish music will be lost to future generations." seventeen hundred. Supposing that three hundred The rev. gentleman, after expatiating at considera-only fled the havoc, the presumed number would be ble length on the soul-thrilling strains of Irish music, quoted an eulogy of the lamented Furlong on our ancient minstrels, and concluded by appealing to all present to labour for the revival of the Irish harp. Several Irish songs were sung, and recitations from Ossian followed. The company separated highly delighted. two thousand; and taking the surface of Great Britain at one hundred thousand square miles, it will give two hundred millions of this destructive tribe of the feathered race. It is generally conjectured that sparrows bring up four broods during the year, but three only have been more accurately observed; the two first broods generally consisting of five each, the last four, thus making fourteen each pair; and these are produced in the space of five months. If, therefore, we only take half of these as pairing, we may calculate the increase on the year from 200,000,000 to be as follows:-Half of that number is 100,000,000, which, by dividing into pairs, makes 100,000,000; divide this by two, multiply the quotient by fourteen, add 200,000,000 to the product, and the result will be the enormous number 900,000,000; then, by the rule of three, we have the following astounding deduction :— As 200,000,000 sparrows are to 900,000,000 quarters of wheat, so are 900,000,000 sparrows to 40,410,000 quarters of wheat; the total value of which 40,410,000 at 60s. would be 121,230,0007.! COFFEE. This may be called the intellectual beverage. When strong, and when much of it is taken, it stimulates so highly the brain and nervous system, as to produce a species of inebriation. A patient of ours is relieved instantly, by a strong cup of coffee, of nervous head-ache, but this relief is invariably followed by temporary blindness. It diminishes very much the appetite for dinner, when taken for luncheon. This property, perhaps, may be accounted for, as well as a highly stimulating quality, owing to its containing so much nitrogen, the distinctive ultimate element of animal substances. In another it almost instantly produces increased and vigorous action of the heart, and, if persevered in, most distressing palpitations. A single cup of this beverage will often cause a sleepless night, in the case of one who can take tea with impunity in this respect. Paris states"If taken immediately after a meal, it is not found to create that disturbance in its digestion which is the occasional consequence of tea; on the contrary, it accelerates the operations of the stomach, and will frequently enable the dyspeptic to digest substances, such as fat and oily aliment, which would often occasion much disturbance." The late Dr. Cheyne, of Dublin, a warm and zealous supporter of the cause of temperance, strongly recommended a clear cup of coffee immediately after dinner, as a wholesome substitute for wine or punch. Those who are rendered vigilant at night owing to coffee after dinner, may CURE FOR CANCER.-Procure sheep sorrel (leaf take it at breakfast or at luncheon, without inter- like that of clover;) express the juice on a pewter fering with their night's rest, as its stimulating influ- plate; expose it to the sun until it assumes the conence will have subsided before the hour of repose,sistency of salve. Apply this as a plaster to the when a sedative effect follows, as a consequence of cancer, and change it occasionally. It will extract the previous excitation.—Dr. Hoyden's Physiology, the cancer. THE SEXES IN PETERSBURG.-Petersburg is a city of men. It contains 100,000 fewer women than men, so that the choice is proportionably not great. Besides, the climate of Petersburg seems to be unfavourable to the development of the charms of these delicate flowers; for their bloom is soon over; and it is universally admitted that, upon the whole, the women in Russia are less handsome than the men. The ladies in Petersburg feel in various ways the ill effects of the disproportionate number of men. Thus, they must not appear out of doors unattended by one of the other sex; nay, a Petersburg lady would not dare to walk in broad day in the Perspective without the escort of a gentleman or her footman.-Kohl's Russia. SCRAPS FROM IRISH HISTORY. THE ROUND TOWER. "Rich as Ireland is in ancient reliques, and amidst its profusion of interesting architectural remains, there is nothing so singular, nothing which has so completely rejected all efforts at explanation, as the ancient pillar or round tower!"Wright's "Scenes in Ireland." I. Thou stern old tower! Erect, in solitary grandeur standing; And wonder from the gazer's heart commanding, What visions dim of days gone by In this lone spot-thy slender form! Thy column sore hath posed the curious; In learned page, And worthy alone our veneration; All others nigh thee seem of late creation, Lo! crush'd by time, cathedrals fall, Whose eagar soul, long on thee dreaming, * Henry O'Brien, a native of Limerick, a young man of great promise and enthusiastic genius. His essay on the origin of the Irish pillar tower was rewarded with a prize by the Royal Irish Academy, and was published in London in Had he lived to mature the powers of his vigorous and original mind, there is no doubt he would have ranked among the first of his country's antiquarians; but, alas! he died young. To endeavour even to enumerate the various theories that 1834. have been advanced concerning the origin of the round towers would take up more space than you could afford me; for no two writers-from Giraldus Cambrensis to Mr. Petrie seem to coincide in opinion on the subject-although, if the latter gentleman is wrong, 'tis hard to say who is right. The most original view on the subject seems to me to have been taken by Father Pat. Horgan of Blarney, who is erecting a round tower close to his chapel-determined, if antiquity has puzzled him, to repay the compliment and puzzle posterity. It is unnecessary to add, that the reverend gentleman is one of our first antiquarians. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM.- We regret to announce the death of Allan Cunningham, a name long connected with the literature of his country. He died on the 29th October from paralysis and apoplexy, in the 56th year of his age. Mr. Cunningham was the son of humble parents, and born in Scotland in 1786. His poetical taste was early developed, and attracted the notice and patronage of Sir Walter Scott. Two days before he died, he completed his "Life of Sir David Wilkie." IRISH WASTE LANDS.-It is computed there are in Ireland five millions acres of waste land, whose lowest elevation is 200 feet above the level of the sea at low water WOOD PAVING IN DUBLIN.-A gentleman conrected with the London Metropolitan Wood-paving Company is now in Dubiin, and has had interviews with the Paving Board on the subject of laying down the principal streets with the new wood pavement. RAILWAY FROM ENGLAND TO SCOTLAND.-There it every prospect of an immediate movement in the matter of railway communication from England to Scotland via the west coast.-Railway Magazine. THE MISSISSIPPI-At the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi, on ground so flat and low and marshy, that at certain seasons of the year it is inundated to the house-tops, lies a breeding place of fever, ague, and death, vaunted in England as a mine of golden hope, and speculated in, on the faith of monstrous representations, to many people's ruin. A dismal swamp, on which the half-built houses rot away; cleared here and there for the space of a few yards; and teeming then with rank and unwholesome vegetation, in whose baleful shade the wretched wanderers who are tempted hither wander and die, and lay their boues; the hateful Mississippi circling and eddying before it, and turning off upon its southern course a slimy monster hideous to behold-a hot-bed of disease-an ugly sepulchre-a grave uncheered by any gleam of promise-a place without one single quality in earth, air, or water, to recommend it; such is this dismal Cairo.-Boz's American Notes. JEALOUSY OF KING JOHN.-The passion of John for his Queen, though it was sufficiently strong to embroil him in war, was not exclusive enough to secure conjugal fidelity; the King tormented her with jealously, while on his part he was far from setting her a good example. The name of the lover of Isabella has never been ascertained, nor is it clear that she was ever guilty of any dereliction from recitude. But John revenged the wrong that, perhaps, only existed in his malignant imagination, in a manner peculiar to himself. He made his mercenaries assassinate the person whom he suspected of supplanting him in his Queen's affections, with two cthers supposed to be accomplices, and secretly hung their bodies over the bed of Isabella. Her surprise and terror when she discovered them may be imagined though it is not described by the writer who darkly alludes to this dreadful scene.-Miss Strickland's Lives of the Queens of England." A fine morning, sir," said that personage, "and the wind is fair for home. Shall I call all hands?" "No; I have business to do here which will detain me an hour or two after the good people of this town can be seen.' The sun was shining high in the cloudless sky as George jumped out of bed, rejoicing at finding his spirits as joyous as the scene which he now gazed on through an open cabin window. He paid more than usual attention to his dress, in preparing to go on shore. The heavy pilot-cloth jacket of last night was laid aside for a superfine blue; a white trowsers and waistcoat, with a Spanish green velvet cap, completed the external part of his attire. A few minutes after breakfast found him on the shore of K. for the second time, and his footsteps turned towards the door of the aunt of her he was so desirous of seeing. Having reached the house, he rapped, and was shown by the servant at once into the parlour, where he found an elderly respectable-looking lady dressed in deep mourning reclining on a sofa. She arose at his entrance, and came forward with an outstretched hand, saying, at the same time "You are the young sailor to whom my niece is so much indebted for assistance during the distressing incident of last night?" "I am," madam, he replied, "the person who had the honour of meeting your niece last evening. I could not think of proceeding on my voyage, uncertain as to whether she suffered any injury from that cir cumstance or not.' It is very kind of you. Pray be seated, and I shall send a servant to know how she does, as it would be too much trouble to give you to walk so far as her house.' "Oh, by no means; on the contrary, I should like a walk of a mile or two this fine morning. If you will tell me where I shall find her abode, I will proceed at once, as I have but very little time to spare." "As you please. Follow me. I can show you the house from the garden gate." Having arrived there, she pointed out to him a handsome white house as the residence of her niece, about ten or fifteen minutes' walk from where they stood. He bid good bye to the aunt, and in the time mentioned he arrived at the young lady's residence. He found her mother and herself at breakfast. She greeted him with all the affection of a warm, innocent, and grateful heart, and presented him to her mother, saying Dear mother, the more I think of the fearful event of last night, the more I am convined I am indebted for my life to this young sailor." "And if so, my dear child, how much are we indebted to him. Oh, sir," she continued, addressing George, "if you knew how dear, how precious this child is to me how much my very existence depends upon her happiness. She is my only child; her loss would be far more bitter than a death of torture to myself. Judge, then, the weight of the service you have rendered us, and tell us how we may do something to lighten the obligation." "By never saying any thing to me," replied George, "which may induce me to believe what is not the case-namely, that I have rendered any service to your daughter. I but found her in a trifling faint, from which a little time and the cool air of Heaven would restore her without any assistance from me." Ah!" said the daughter, "you sailors are so ust a to saving each other's valuable lives on the ocean, that you think nothing of snatching a poor worthless girl like me from the jaws of death." "Were I to save you from the slightest pain, it would delight me; and I should prize the saving of your life more than that of a ship's whole crew.' She blushed, and he followed her example without knowing why; probably because he spoke the language of his heart in the form of a compliment. The fact is, he felt more than a common interest in the fair girl who now sat before him. It was not alone that faultless shape, cast in nature's most perfect mouldnor that beautiful head which nature sometimes forms to mock the painter's and sculptor's boasted art nor that forehead fair as Parian marble-no, not all innocency of mind-the light from within which shone these, so much as the deep intense feeling-spotless from her eyes and seemed reflected in every feature of her angel-like countenance. It was the want of made him so long a despiser of love and its soft power. this in every woman whom G. had met before that After some conversation, on indifferent subjects, the mother left them to look after some household affairs and other matters connected with her very large farm, which she continued to manage after the death of her husband, and for whom both herself and daughter were still in mourning. The young lady, whom we shall in future call by the name of Miss Morton, and George went from the parlour through a glass door into the garden. From thence they ascended a neighbouring hill, from which they had a noble view of the Atlantic-now calm and tranquil as an infant's sleep, with, here and there, a white sail dotting its smooth surface, and flocks of sea-gulls chasing the small fry along the shore. "What a contrast," said Miss Morton, "there is between that calm sea and the huge billows which dashed themselves in foam upon the shore this time yesterday." "Every thing in this world, Miss Morton, is continually changing from yonder gigantic mountains, (for doubtless they are not now as they came from the hand of nature's God, though we have not the history of their change,) to yonder beautiful butterfly resting on that wild rose." "Yes, 'tis true, Captain George; book-men tell us that even these our poor bodies so change in a few years, that nothing of the old remains, but all is become new." "In gazing upon you, Miss Morton, I almost feel myself a convert to that strange theory." Why? may I ask, Captain George." "Because I think, Miss Morton, when nature last wrought that change in you, she gave you the beauty, grace, and air of an angel, in exchange for the mortality which she has taken away. But Miss M.," he continued, seeming not to notice her blushes, "I wonder not at the change of our material substances, when I find that a few hours are capable of changing opinions which were thought to be infallible, and of awakening sentiments which were thought to have no existence, save in the day-dreams of enthusiasts." "Is it usual, Captain George, on board ship, to speak a language incomprehensible to us poor ignorant folk on shore?-you must be more explicit, if you wish me to understand you.' "Do you see these linnets who are perching on yonder slender branch of that tall elm? The male, who is now singing so sweetly, was flying above the female a few moments ago, she having caught his voice; he hovered over her for a little time-theu alighted. Do you think they ever met before?" I don't know." |