with grapes, and lying on them a little bouquet. 'Them's for you, from Mr. Mansworth,' said Jane. 'He brought them hisself, and sent you his love, and you must make haste and get well, for he sha'n't care to give any more lessons till you're about again.'

'He is very kind,' said Nella. Jane popped a few grapes into her mouth, and then she made Jane eat some, and afterwards held out her right unharmed hand for the flowers-a damask rose-bud, surrounded by starry woodroffe-such a bonnie little posy! Nella smelled them, and lying very still, could just contrive to bear the pain in her leg, which seemed to grow sharper every minute. Jane had got the landlady to promise to take her place while she sat with the poor little invalid.

'For, Mum!' she said, 'that fat porpoise of a Madam Mally ain't good for nothing at all; she worrits the child out of her life-time, that's all she does.'

So now Jane appeared with a little brown stone ink-bottle, with a screw of paper where the cork should have been, half a sheet of notepaper, a yellow envelope, and a blue glass pen-holder, with a bright yellow pen in it. This treasure had been brought her as a present from the Crystal Palace; she called the pen 'Gould,' and thought the whole very beautiful. Then she sat down at the dressing-table before the window, turning up a corner of the toilette cover so that she might not blot it, and with much show of business began to write. The sun was setting very beautifully setting on wide stretches of land or across the Brentholm gulf, but here seen only as an amber glow behind a zigzagged line of roofs; in the midst a church tower stood up, an ugly tower by day, with little pillars and a bit of a dome; but now, against the amber, both roofs and tower, all of a dim purple-grey, looked quite picturesque. The amber was reflected on Jane's shiny soap-washed forehead, and brightened up her cotton gown and greasy hair. She moved her head slowly to and fro as she wrote; Nella lay watching her. Presently, the letter was written :

Dere mam, Mamsel Kampin Eller as broke her Legg & is very bad. she as asked for You & thare is no 1 but me to do for her.

yours obedently

jane hobbs.

'Where does Miss Charteris live, my ducky?' asked kind "jane hobbs" of her patient, when she had gummed down her envelope very tightly.

The pale face flushed. 'Have you been writing to her?'

'Yes, ducky, just to tell her how ill you are.'

Nella gave the address; and then for half an hour all was very quiet. Jane, who knew better than to talk in a sick room, was spelling over an old copy of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin;' by-and-by she began to sniff VOL. 8.

4

PART 43.

and grow red-eyed because Eva was dying, but she held the book before her face, and made no noise with her sniffing, lest she should disturb Nella. Presently the quiet came to an end; a horrid organ began to grind, all out of tune, in the alley below the window; then a woman came out of a house there, and scolded her boy in one long scream; afterwards a cab stopped at Monsieur Mallet's door, there was a loud rat-tat, another cab, a noise of feet, of voices; lastly, a tuning of instruments.

'O my! it's Mossoo's practising night,' cried Jane, quite indignant, letting Uncle Tom drop out of her hand. 'You can not abear that, my dear. Haven't they got no feeling? one.'

I'll go and tell them every

'No, don't go,' said Nella; 'never mind, I shall like the music.'

Jane still said she had a good mind' to go; but at last she sat where she was, grumbling now and then as the tuning grew louder. It was not her place to drive the people away, but she felt it was hard for the sick girl to have a long three-hours concert inflicted on her. Nella, too, felt that it was very terrible; she had said she should like the music, but she had said it faintly, for the organ and the loud scolding had already been almost more than she could bear. The last evening light showed her the sweet child-loving Face in her picture, however; and when the evening light had all died out, a lamp lighted in the street threw up a glimmering half-circle of brightness upon the face. It was a comfort to the poor girl; it was like holding a friend's hand. At nine o'clock Jane had to leave her to attend to a lodger who lived on the ground-floor; she asked whether she should send up anyone else to take her place. Nella said feebly, 'No, thank you; and please keep Madame away.' So she lay alone, watching the picture, and sending up from time to time little broken sobs of prayer to Him Whom it recalled to her. 'Lord, help me to bear this! Lord, please make me patient and good! Lord Jesus! make me not wish for Miss Charteris too much. O Lord, may she not come to be with me?' Then again: 'Lord, Thou wast so patient; make me patient too.' For her pain grew very keen now. And, oh! how that music, at first soothing to her, began presently to grate and grind upon her brain! Do you know what it is to have an iron file tearing and grating on your teeth and gums? The music worked like that on the sore hot brain of this poor Campanella, praying so hard for patience. She would not complain; she would not cry out; she bit her lip, and tightened her one hand until she crushed and killed her flowers, but she felt constant thrills of agony passing through both mind and body. Presently, she grew confused, and her skin very hot and dry. When the doctor came again she was in a fever, and for two days and nights she was delirious.

(To be continued.)

51

THE FIRST FRUITS OF JAPAN;

OR,

AN APOSTLE OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

BY MADAME DE WITT, NÉE Guizot.

CHAPTER I.

It was August. The rains of June and July had watered the ground after the parching suns of May. The whole population of the kingdom of Saruna, in Japan, was at work in the fields.

The earlier harvest was gathered in; and fresh crops were being prepared. On the coast, fishermen were putting out in their light boats of oak timber, and with half white half black sails swelling in the first breath of the morning breeze. The sky was pure, the air balmy; women appeared at the doors of the little low houses with boarded roofs, holding half-naked children in their arms, and watching their husbands and brothers setting forth to their daily work. Old men were sitting in the sun, their days of toil over, the weight of care for the support of the family laid aside on their sons' shoulders, they were thenceforth surrounded by the attentions and respect of their descendants, and reposed after the severe labour of their lives; but their experience was still at the service of youth.

An old sailor, formerly renowned among the most enterprising seafaring men engaged in the coasting trade, suddenly rose, just as the flotilla of fishing-boats was setting sail. 'Look at the horizon,' he called out to his son, whose boat was the last to leave the shore; and do not tempt the gods by going far out to fish. The day will not end without a storm.'

The fishermen heard the elder: none of them smiled. No one smiled; for deference to age is one of the duties most strictly observed in that land of order and discipline; but the younger men said among themselves, Dharma's sight is growing dim: he takes the films of old age over his eyes for clouds in the sky. When was the weather more favourable?' And all the boats put forth into the open sea.

The young Sa Fou alone, Dharma's son, respecting his father's experience and wisdom, kept along shore, without going further. Fate, or the will of the tutelary deities of dutiful sons, had brought into his nets a splendid akama, or red-lady, a fish regarded as an especial dainty of the great nobles, and the sale of which would enrich Sa Fou's little household for several weeks. At the beginning of the season, when akama fishing is just beginning, a fine fish of this kind is sold in large towns at the rate of a hundred pounds.

Sa Fou was glad: he had left his young wife uneasy that morning;

children were numerous in his little house; the store of vegetables was getting low, and the taxes to the Prince were due; but the sale of the red-lady would provide for all that was required; and a dozen commoner fish, which were found in the same net with the valuable prey, would secure the maintenance of his family for the ensuing day. Sa Fou drew towards land, and plying his oars, since the wind had gone down suddenly, he regained the shore, where his father was watching for him, still seated on the same stone.

No sooner did the old man behold his son, than raising his grateful eyes towards heaven, and standing upright on the rock, he cried, 'O Tsu sio Dai Dscin, the guardian god of my family! I bless thee for having guarded my son's boat, for having rendered him dutiful and respectful, and for having permitted him to escape the peril that will be incurred by all those who have contemned the counsel of old age.'

Then leaning on his staff, he went down to the beach as fast as his trembling limbs permitted, to thank his son for having come back into harbour. The sight of the red-lady excited such transports in old Dharma's soul, that he insisted on at once entering the neighbouring temple, to thank the god for the protection granted to his son.

While the two fishermen prostrated themselves in the temple, or nua― which was of humble appearance, devoid of all idols, before a metal mirror, intended as a symbol of the omniscience of the gods-they were prevented by the shadow of the deep grove surrounding the temple, from seeing the sudden alteration in the aspect of the sea that had taken place. The waves, which had still been calm when Sa Fou reached the shore, were beginning to rise immensely; the clouds, heaped one upon the other by a furious wind, were suddenly torn asunder, leaving visible gloomy depths where the sky and sea were confused together in a frightful tumult. The waves rose, rose higher and higher, in terrible pyramids, falling over on themselves, and breaking with a fearful sound.

The boats that were scattered on the horizon were flying before the storm, like frightened birds, and disappearing one after the other beneath the furious waves. Six times already had the women and children assembled on the beach, in spite of the blasts of wind and the waves that beat on the shore; seen the frail barks, that bore their fathers or husbands, sink beneath the shocks of the hurricane; and the poor wretches, distracted in their agony, durst not even cry to their gods; apathetic beings in their inert felicity, who while accepting offerings of thanksgiving, had no delight, so said the Bonzes, in hearkening to the prayers of the distressed.

Sa Fou and his father quitted the temple, and were hastening homewards, when the old man stopped; and shewing his son a vessel, battered by the storm, but ably handled, so as to escape the most formidable blows of wind and sea. 'That,' he said, 'is a junk from a

distance; it is manned by Chinese.

What do they want with us?

When did strangers find out the way to Niphon?'

The old man had continued on his way; but Sa Fou, forgetting the rain and his wet clothes, was eagerly gazing at the Chinese junk, sometimes rapidly cleaving the furious waves, sometimes tacking to avoid the centre of the frightful whirlwind, which sometimes hurries ships away from the harbour, and drives them an immense distance, to bring them back dismasted wrecks to the shore they had longed to reach. The Chinese were as experienced in storms as old Dharma. They had foreseen this one from daybreak; but no harbour of shelter had offered, and they were forced to fly before the formidable typhoon; reduced to invoke the deceitful gods, whose images protected the ship, the worthy patrons of a captain who had earned for his vessel the surname of 'the Robber's Junk.' One of the foreign passengers had fallen into the hold, and hurt his head; the captain's daughter, who had chosen to go with her father from curiosity about his new voyage, had fallen into the sea, and had instantly perished.

There was mourning in the ship, as well as on shore; the typhoon had taken victims from the foreigners, as well as the Japanese. The fishermen's wives were weeping on the beach; the Chinese captain, frenzied with grief, was demanding the cause of his misfortune from his gods, and concluded, from certain tokens, that his daughter's death was occasioned by the benediction of the passenger.

Sinister thoughts revolved in the mind of the unhappy father; thirst for senseless vengeance was awakening in his mind; he longed to punish the strangers, whose God had triumphed over the demons that guarded his ship and family; but the land was near; the hurricane was passing away; the harbour was opening to receive the wave-battered ship.

Sa Fou was once more in his cottage, where his wife joyfully received him. And the Chinese junk, entering full sail upon the peaceful waters of the haven of Kagosima, cast anchor at the foot of the stairs for landing.

It was the 15th of August, 1549.

CHAPTER II.

THE storm was over; the poor creatures who had lost all that they loved, had hidden themselves in their dwellings to weep in silence. Sa Fou had risen early. The red-lady was carefully placed in a reed basket upon his shoulder, and he had started for Kagosima to sell his rich prize. waited long.

His wife was impatiently awaiting his return. She

Sa Fou was entering the city, when he met a tradesman whom he knew. 'Do you know where I can sell to advantage the finest Redlady that has been caught on the coast this whole season?' he asked.