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sess not the enchanting pathos, the elevated and va. parts, which are of a clear vermilion. The chin, ried expression of the far-famed Philomel, nor yet front and lores black. The head is ornamented with those contrasted tones, which, in the solemn stillness a high pointed crest. The bill is coral red, and the of the growing night, fall at times into a soothing legs and feet are pale ash color. The female is some. whisper, or slowly rise and quicken into a loud and what less than the male, and a little different in cheering warble.

color. Both sexes are noted for affection to their The Cardinal Bird measures eight inches in length, young, and to each other; but so jealous are the and eleven from the tip of one wing to that of the males that they have often been known to destroy other. The whole upper parts are of a dull dusky- those of their own sex. red, except the sides of the neck, head and lower

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A WORLD's sweet enchantress, unbounded in fame, Should leave the sad earth and ascend to the sky;
O how shall I sing of so peerless a name

Yet when thou art fled to the seraphim throng
Thy tones, from the wilds of a picturesque land,

Will fancy yet list to thy glorified song, The billows of ocean have borne to our strand;

Will dream that no harp on the heavenly plains Though I ne'er have beheld thee, yet bound in thy spell, Has music so sweet as are there thy high strains. My bosom thine echoes still onward would swell

Though we never may list while on earth to thy laye, Would enshrine in my song the sweet soul of thy strains, For the boon of thy being high Heaven we 'll praise ; Till fresh incense should rise from our mountains and plains. Where thy strains are ascending must Paradise beThough long on the altar thou 'st kindled the fire, Humanity's scale is exalted in thee. Oh how shall it burn on the strings of the lyre!

There is a tone in my bosom as yet unexpressed, 'Tis the music of Nature sublimed in thy lays

And fain would I bid it to ever there rest, Which has won thee thy guerdon of love and of praise;

But the woes of the earth for its utterance plead, T' is hence that the depths of the spirit it thrills,

Then may it go forth as a merciful deed :That responses start forth from mountains and hills,

0, Jenny, while shining so brilliant on high, That no barriers the flight of thine ecboes can bind,

Like the Lyrian star on the vault of the sky, Which are borne o'er the earth on the wings of the wind.

While the peers of the realms bow in homage to thee, There is glowing within us, all restless, a lyre,

Dost never thy race in their miseries see? Which would swell like an angel's its anthems of fire,

To the charm of thy music we ever would yield, But the shroud of mortality fetters its strings

By thee would be borne to Elysium's field, Yet thou while on earth hast unfolded thy wings,

And forgetful that wrong or that wo were on earth, Canst dwell with the fairies in chalice of flowers,

Forever would list to thine angel-like mirth. And glide with the wood nymphs in deep sylvan bowers;

But the heart fraught with sympathies true, must embrace

The lowest as well as the stars of our race-
Canst float with the moonbeams in dew-silvered trees,
And rise on the wings of the morn's fragrant breeze,

Round the poor and the wretched in bitterness twineWhile sunbeams are waking the rapturous lays

On devotion's wings rise to where pure seraphs shine;of dew-drops and birds, and yet all 'neath their blaze;

In our pathway to Heaven we encounter the thorn, Canst hoyer o'er ocean when storm it enthrones,

Each brother's woes feel and the proud tyrant's scornAnd bear from the foam-crested surges their tones;

The way that our holy Redeemer has trod When dark are the skies and the thunder-clouds lower,

But leads us through tears to the throne of our God. With the eagle's bold flight to the mountain's crest soar;

I know that thine own gushing spirit is free The streams of the forest to their fountains canst wind,

As the winds that o'ersweep the high mountains and sea; And caverns resounding in solitude find;

Thy genius has burst from all species of chains, Enshrined in thy spirit their voices canst keep,

And freedom unbounded swells forth in thy strains; Sublimed by thine alchemy subtile and deep,

But while ever exulting on fetterless wing, At thy will from thy spirit their harmonies sweep,

Wouldst not the blest boon to each lorn spirit bring? And I ween thou hast soared to the portals of Heaven,

Thy music, which thrills to the depths of the heart, Or some angel a tone to thy praises has given.

Might bid us to deeds of true chivalry start;

Might bid the kind fountain in proud bosoms flow, 0, Jenny, the brightest cynosure below!

To heal the crushed hearts that are writhing in wo. The fount in thy bosom must here cease to flow;

Both Knowledge and Virtue like angels descend, Like the sear leaves of autumn which shroud the old years, The sad thralls of Sin and of Darkness to rend, Thy harp-strings must perish ’mid wailings and tears; Perchance that the tyrant may yield to thy charms, Thy lovers who bend at thy purity's shrine,

And avert the dread doom of the Future's alarms, Enchained by the spells of thy carols divine,

Till unwilling vassals no more beud the kuce, When no temple's proud arches resound with thy strain, But rise at his bidding and ever be free. In the wilds of thy forests shall seek thee in vain; And the gold thou bast won by the charm of thy name, But when from thy tomb they despairing return,

To its splendor might add the philanthropist's fume, In lyres immortal thine echoes shall burn.

Till many an oasis from deserts shall spring, Alas! that thy music should ever here die,

When the arches of Heaven with thy praises shall ring.


When the rains of November are dark on the hills, and Thou shalt hear how the Earth, the maternal, laments for the pine-trees incessantly roar

the children she nurtured with tears To the sound of the wind-beaten crags, and the floods that How the forest but deepens its wail and the breakers their in foam through their black channels pour:

roar, with the march of the years ! When the breaker-lined coast stretches dimly afar, through Then the gleam of thy hearth-fire shall dwindle away, and the desolate waste of the gale,

the lips of thy loved ones be still: And the clang of the sea-gull at nightfall is heard from the And thy soul shall lament in the moan of the storm, sounddeep, like a mariner's wail :

ing wide on the shelterless hill.

When the gray sky drops low, and the forest is bare, and

the laborer is housed from the storm, And the world is a blank, save the light of his home

through the gust shining redly and warm :

All the woes of existence shall stand at thy heart, and the

sad eyes of myriads implore, In the darkness and storm of their being, the ray, stream

ing out through thy radiant door.

Go thou forth, if the brim of thy heart with its tropical Look again : how that star of thy Paradise dims, through fullness of life overflow

the warm tears, unwittingly shedIs the sun of thy bliss in the zenith is hung, and no shadow Thou art man, and a sorrow so bitterly wrung, never fell reminds thee of wo!

on the dust of the Dead!

Leave the home of thy love ; leave thy labors of fame; in Let the rain of the midnight beat cold on thy cheek, and the rain and the darkness go forth,

the proud pulses chill in thy frame, When the cold winds unpuusingly wail as they drive from Till the love of thy bosom is grateful and sad, and thou the cheerless expanse of the North.

turn'st from the mockery of Fame !

Thou shalt turn from the cup that was mantling before; | Take with humble acceptance the gists of thy life; bid thy thou shalt hear the eternal despair

joy brim the fountain of tears; of the hearts that endured and were broken at last, from For the soul of the Earth, in endurance and pain, gathers the hills and the sea and the air!

promise of happier years !


The Child of the Sea and Other Poems. By Mrs. S. Anna The beauty-freighted barges bound asar
Lewis, Author of " Records of the Hearl," etc. etc. Nero

To the sott music of the gay guitar.
York : George P. Putnam.

The olive children of the Indian Sea. A large edition of “Records of the Heart” was sold in a few months, and the fair author stepped at once into a

That rayless realm where Fancy never beams

That Nothingness beyond the Land of Dreams. very enviable position. “The Child of the Sea,' etc. will add much to her poetical fame. The poem which gives Folded his arms across his sable vest name to the volume, and occupies most of it, is a romantic

As if to keep the heart within his breast. and passionate narrative, and embodies all the main fea

Violets lifting up their azure eyes tures of Mrs. Lewis's thought as well as manner. The Like timid virgins whom Love's steps surprise. story is well conducted and somewhat elaborately handled; the style, or general tone, is nervous, free, dashing-much

And all is hushed—50 still—so silent there in the way of Maria del Occidente-but the principal

That one might hear an angel wing the air. ground for praise is to be found in the great aggregate of

There are times when the sick soul quotable passages. The opening lines, for example, are

Lies calm amid the storms that round it roll,

Indifferent to Fate or to what haven singularly vivid :

By the terrific tempest it is driven.
Where blooms the myrtle and the olive flings
Its aromatic breath upon the air-

The dahlias, leaning from the golden vase,
Where the sad Bird of Night forever sings

Peer pensively into her pallid lace, Meet anthems for the Children of Despair.

While the sweet songster o'er the oaken door

Looks through his grate and warbles 6 weep no more !" The themes of the poem-a few lines further on-are summed up in words of Byronic pith and vigor :

beauteous in her misery

A jewel sparkling up through the dark sea
youthful Love,

Of Sorrow.
Ill-starred, yet trustful, truthful and sublime
As ever angels chronicled above-
The sorrowings of Beauty in her prime-

Delirium's world of fantasy and pain,
Virtue's reward--the punishment of Crime-

Where hung the fiery moon and stars of blood The dark, inscrutable decrees of Fate

And phantom ships rolled on the rolling flood. Despair, untold before in prose or rhyme.

" Isabelle or The Broken H {"' occupies some 40 pages, We give a few more instances of what we term " quot- and is fully as good as - The Child of the Sea"-although able” passages—thoughtful, vivid, pungent or vigorous : in a very different way. There is less elaboration, per. Fresh blows the breeze on Tarick's burnished bay

haps, but not lees true polish, and even more imagination. The silent sea-mews bend them through the spray- The “ Miscellaneous Poems" are, of course, varied in merit. Some of them have been public favorites for a English history previous to the reign of James II., and a long time.

“ My Study," especially, has been often view of England, in its manners, customs, literature and quoted and requoted. It is terse and vigorous. From people at the time of his accession, occupy the larger por“ The Beleagured Heart” we extract a quatrain of very tion of the first volume, and are almost unmatched, cerforcible originality:

tainly unexcelled, in historical literature, for the combiI hear the mournful moans of joy

nation of condensed richness of matter with popularity of Hope, sobbing while she cheers

style. Then follows the narrative of the three years of Like dew descending from the leaf The dropping of Love's tears.

folly and madness which produced the revolution of 1688,

and hurled James II. from his throne. This narrative is The volume is most exquisitely printed and bound-ne detailed with a minuteness which leaves nothing untold of the most beautiful books of the season.

necessary to the complete apprehension of the subject in

all its bearings, and it evinces on almost every page not The History of England, from the Accession of James II. only singular felicity in narration, but great power of

By Thomas Babington Macaulay. New York: Harper original and striking observation. Masterly generaliza& Brothers. Vols. 1 and 2. 8co.

tion, and sagacity in seizing and luminousness in unfoldNo person, of whig or tory politics, could in the present

ing the principles of events. The whole history has the age, propose to himself the task of writing the history of interest of a grand dramatic poem, in which the movement England, without feeling the delicacy and responsibility of the story and delineation of the characters are managed

with consummate skill. of his undertaking, and the necessity of exercising a dif

The portraits of Charles II., ferent class of powers from those which may have given

James II., Danby, Rochester, Sunderland, Godolphin, sparkle and point to his partisan efforts. The importance Halifax, Churchill, and especially William of Orange, are of the principles involved in the events and characters altogether superior to any which have previously appeared. coming under his view, and their wide applications to

Halifax and King William seem to be Macaulay's facontemporary controversies, would be sure to bring down vorites, and he has surprised many of his readers by his upon the unlucky advocate a storm of moral and immoral comparative coolness to Russell, Sydney, and the whig indignation. It would seem on the first blush that Ma. patriots generally.

The history closes with an eloquent passage on the caulay, with all his vast and vivified erudition, was not a writer calculated to experience the full force of a his

"glorious" Revolution of 1688. It appears to us that the toriau's duties, or to display in the analysis and judgment in the actors in the event, impress the reader with a

meanness and lowness which Macaulay has developed of events that intelleciual conscientiousness which is a

different notion of it. The whole thing has a jobby air, rare quality even in powerful mids. His historical

in which no commanding genius is observable, and no essays bear as unmistakable marks of partisanship as

sacrifices seem to have been made. Indeed Macaulay ability, and are especially characterized, by a merciless severity, which, in the name of justice, too often loses the himself

, in one of his essays, remurks truly that the ouly insight as well as the toleration which come from charity. which Churchill made of honor and Anne of natural

sacrifices made in the Revolution, “was the sacrifice Sir James Macintosh, toward the commencement of his

affection.” That the Revolution, in its results, was one career, referred to him as “a writer of consummate ability, of the most glorious recorded in human amals, there can who has failed in little but in the respect due to the abilities

be little doubt, but it had its birth in such odious treachery, and character of his opponents.” Though as a partisan, and was conducted by men so deficient in elevation of mind Macaalay was a partisan on the right side, on the side of

or even common honesty, that its story is little calculiberty and truth, the unmeasured scorn he poured, hot

lated to kindle sympathy, or awaken adıniration. from his heart, on tyrants and bigots, and the fierce, swift sweep of his generalizations, often made his cooler The History of England from the Peace of Utrecht to the readers suspicious of his accuracy when most dazzled and Peace of Paris. By Lord Mahon. Edited by Henry delighted by his brilliancy. In the present history a great Reed, Professor of English Liierature in the University of change is manifest. The petulance, the flippancy, the Pennsylvania. New York : D. Appleton & Co. 2 vols. 8vo. dogmatism of the essayist, are hardly observable, and in

The author of this history is an English nobleman of their place we have the solid judgment of the historian. large historical acquirements, who has managed to proThere is a general lowering of the tone in which persons duce two or three valuable works demanding great study and principles are considered, consequent upon the change and research, without interfering with his duties as a in the writer's position from an antagonist to a judge. The member of Parliament, though, doubtless with some interstyle, while it has no lack of the force, richness, variety, ference with his pleasures as a member of the English directness and brilliancy, which characterized the diction aristocracy. The present work is valuable for its accuracy, of the essayist, has likewise a sweetness, gravity and and interesting from its giving a connected view of the composure which the essayist never displayed. Though history of England during a period but little known except the writer's opinions are radically the same as ever, they by the empty abstracts of stupid compilers, or the brilare somewhat modified by being seen through a less ex- liant but prejudiced letters and memoirs of contemporary travagant expression, and by being restored to their pro

writers and statesmen. It comprehends the administraper relations. In fact, the history presents Macaulay as a tions of Harley and Bolingbroke, of Stanhope, Walpole, wiser and more comprehensive man than his essays, and Carteret, Newcastle and Chatham, thus including the if we sometimes miss the generous warmth and intensity, latter years of the reign of Queen Anne and the reigns of and the daring sweep of his earlier compositions, we also George I. and II. The period covers a wide field of miss their declamatory contemptuousness and mental

characters and events, and Lord Mahon has been especially bombast.

successful in unraveling the threads of the foreign policy The volumes which the Harpers have given to us in 80 of England, and indicating the difficulties experienced by elegant a form, (vulgarized a little by Dr. Webster's ortho

her statesmen in sustaining the House of Hanover on the graphical crotchets,) close with the proceedings of the throne. In a narrative point of view the best portions of Convention which gave the crowu to William and Mary. the history are those relating to the rebellions of 1715 and A long historical introduction, containing a view of 1745. It is almost needless to say that Professor Reed

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has added much to the value and interest of the work by Democracy in France. By Monsieur Guizot, Late Prime his elucidative notes.

Minister. New York : D. Appleton & Co. But the richness of Lord Mahon's materials and the

This little volume is well worthy the reputation of one interest of his subject cannot conceal the fact that he lacks

of the greatest historians, philosophers and statesmen of both the heart and the brain of an able historian, and that

the age--in other words, of the reputation of Guizot. It he is essentially a common-place man. The reflections he

is marked by preeminent ability in statement, analysis, appends to some of his narratives are commonly such argumentation and composition, and we doubt not will obvious truisms, or such poor apologies for reason, that exert some considerable influence on the politics of France. the reader is made painfully aware of his being in the In his preface the author avers that nothing in the volume company of a mediocre gentleman, who, while he always bears the impress of his personal situation, and he adds, means well, never means much. Lord Mahon is deficient

“While events of such magnitude are passing before his equally in historical science and historical imagination, eyes, a man who did not forget himself would deserve to and his work equally barren of profound principles and be forever forgotten.” The book justifies the author's vivid pictures. A moderate tory, he holds the hearsays assertion. It is simply an examination of things without of his creed with a lazy acquiescence, without sufficient regard to persons, and is as philosophic in its tone as in passion to be a bigot, and without sufficient logic to be a

its method. The chapters on The Social Republic and sophist. When he is tempted into historical parallels, or

The Elements of Society are masterpieces of analysis and disquisitions on the changes of parties, as in that passage statement, and well deserve the attentive study of all who where he essays to prove that a modern whig is synonymous think or prattle on social science. It seems to us that the with a tory of Queen Anne's day, he adopts the argumen- present volume is sufficient to convince all candid minds, tation of Fluellen rather than Chillingworth--shows that that whatever may be the faults and errors of Guizot as a " there is a mountain in Wales and a mountain in Mace

statesman, he has no equal among the men at present don,” and leaves the reader to mourn over the misdirection dominant in France. Since his fall that country has been of the human faculties. In his estimate of literature he is governed, or misgoverned, by soldiers and sentimentalists, still worse. The disquisition on the literature of Queen with a pistol in one hand and the Rights of Man in the Anne's time, in the present history, is a medley of mingled other, and is a standing monument of the madness of trustcommonplace, which has been worn to rags, and critical ing the state to men of " second rate ability and first rate nonsense, which has been long exploded. His history, incapacity.” The Red Republicans have principles; M. therefore, must be considered simply as a useful narrative Guizot has principles; the legitimists have principles; of important events, and carefully distinguished from those but the present dynasty has the peculiar character of beof Guizot and Thierrey, of Hallam and Macaulay, of Pres- ing, in an intellectual sense, the most thoroughly unprincott and Bancroft.

cipled government that French ingenuity could have

formed. Leaves from Margaret Smith's Journal in the Province of

Massachusetts Bay, 1678–9. Boston : Ticknor, Reed & Oregon and California. By J. Quinn Thornton. Neto
Fields. 1 vol. 16mo.

York : Harper & Brothers, 1819.
This beautifully printed volume sustains both the repu- A pleasant book, well written, and containing much in-
tation of its publishers for printing handsome books, and formation just now, peculiarly valuable in relation to
its reputed author for writing good ones. It is generally Oregon and California. Many strange phases of life in
attributed to Whittier, and it certainly displays through- the wilderness and prairie, are described by one who
out the shrewdness with which that poet observes, and knows its peculiar hardships and pleasures. The terrible
the facility with which he idealizes events. Here is a sufferings, the awful stories told of the early emigrants,
volume bringing up to the eye with the vividness of reality are faithfully given, and, if official accounts be true, are
the scenes and characters of a past age, and making us as scarcely exaggerated. A valuable appendix on the gold
familiar with them as if we had ridden by the side of Mar- country is added, undoubtedly to be relied on. The book
garet in her journey from Boston to Newbury, and yet is well illustrated in wood.
through the whole book runs a vein of pure poetry, leud-
ing a consecrating light to scenes which might possess The Parterre, a Collection of Flowers Culled by the Wayside.
but little interest if actually observed. The quaint spell- By D. W. Belisle. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincos
ing undoubtedly adds to the illùsion of its antiquity, but & Co., 1849.
what makes it really secm old is its primitive sentiment A pretty looking volume, very creditable to the pub-
and bold delineations. Margaret herself is a most be- lishers in a typographical point of view, and containing
witching piece of saintliness, with the sweetness and a number of poems of various lengths, on a variety of sub-
purity of one of Jeremy Taylor's sermons, and as full of jects. The longest, Wallenpaupack, is an attempt, and a
genial humanity as of beautiful devotion. Placed as she very creditable one also, to commemorate an incident of
is amid the collision of opposite fanaticisms, the austere the history of the North American Indian, a source of
fanaticism of the Puritan and the vehement fanaticism of poetical subjects too much neglected. The book is well
the Quaker, she shines both by her own virtues and by worth attention. It may not be uninteresting to state that
contrast with the harsh qualities by which she is sur- the type has all been set up by the author.
rounded. The book provokes a comparison with the
Diary of Lady Willoughby, and that comparison it will Roland Cashel. By Charles Lever. Illustrated by Phiz.
more than stand, being superior to that charming volume New York : Harper & Brothers.
in the range of its persons and events, and equal to it in This is probably the best novel of one of the most popular
the conception of the leading character. The author has novelists of the day. Lever has not much solidity of mind,
shown especial art in modifying every thing, by the sup- and accordingly never produces any masterpieces of cha-
posed medium of mind through which it passes-the hero-racterization or passion, but he has a quicksilver spirit of
ine telling the whole story in her own words—and at the frolic and drollery,and an intensity of mirthful feeling which
same time preserving every thing in its essential life. have made some critics place him on a level with Dickens.
This is a difficult and delicate process of representation, The present volume will more than sustain the reputation
but Whittier has performed it.

which his former frolicksome audacities have attained.




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my lads?


the roaring noise made overhead, as the “specimens" MY DEAR JEREMY,-In my last I promised you a re

were poured into the two great chests, previously preminding hint, a sketch reflective and suggestive of mining pared; and he was just the man to get at the bottom of operations, as an offset to the brilliant visions of “Gold a mare's nest. So, by virtue of appliances best known to Placers,” which haunt the mind, sleeping and waking, of himself, he contrived to get a look at the collected speciUncle Sam's children. While multitudes are making haste

mens, and made up his mind at once that the thing was to grow rich, by going around the Horn, and at the ter- too slily managed by half, and that if there was wealth in minus of their long voyage will find themselves coming the rocks he would have a finger in the transaction. out of the little end of it. you and I may amuse ourselves

He would at any rate." over a subject somewhat kindred-a retrospective folly

Crispin, the village cobbler, had thrown his eyes from feeling the while a good deal like the boy on getting rid his lapstone, across the creck, and up the hill-side, to take of the jumping tooth-ache—"a heap better” are we, “ now

note of the motious of “the wandering stone-crockers," it is over."

as he called them, and his bruin was in a pother. Copper! You have heard of it before, I believe? and

The blacksmith had sharpened their pick more than once, may have about you a memorandum of a few thousands, which had put on edge his curiosity, and had “ contrived entered on the credit side, not available now at your

to pick their brains, while they pecked the rocks," as he bankers. It was a very happy delusion, was it not? I'll jocosely remarked, and he had smelt metal in their movewarrant me that you had already planned your cottage orné, and had the walks laid out, and the shrubbery planted

Over their evening ale, at the tavern, the probabilities quite tastefully and imaginatively picturesque. Several

and possibilities of gold or silver being found in the mouncastles, with steeples rather airy, of my own, were top- tain, were discussed with various degrees of profundity, pled down, and elegantly bronzed as they were, are quite and the certainty that something of the kind was there, useless now for purposes of reproduction, so that we may

was most sagely resolved on. Time, in whose crucible say, that we have had some of the advantages of wealth

all doubts are solved, soon confirmed their sagacity by a without a present care in disposing of it. · The servant

copper button" presented to the landlord with the comgirl who wished for riches that she might ride in her pliments of Uptosnuff, with hints, but not positive injunccarriage and feel like missus," had the delights of an

tions as to secrecy. He knew his man. ticipation only, poor soul! while ours are embodied in the

“What do you think of that?" asked Drawitwell, of his delicious reflection of having passed that “missus' on the

cronies the same evening, with an air of authority, holding road, with a pair of fast trotters—taking the air with quite up the copper button. • What do you think of that, an air, at the rate of two forty."

“Come easy, go fast," was the remark of an old German Hellow!" exclaimed the bewildered cobbler, "landUncle, who, having made a fortune by hard knocks at the lord, why-why is that'goold ?anvil, looked with a quiet smile at these thousands in per

“Gold, you fool! No, it's not gold—but it's a precious spective. In regard to the horses, the old gentleman was

sight more valuable–because there is a great deal more right—but as the money never came, I think his premises of it used." were altogether wrong. One thing is certain, real estate

“ Why what on earth is it, then ?" asked the blacksmith,

in amazement. rose very rapidly in our vicinity at that time, and as several lots went off at spanking prices, to be kept out of our

" It's Copper! my lads ! COPPER!!"

" COPPER ! !". clutches, we may be said to have beeu benefactors to the sellers and conveyancers. So that copper—the vilest of

“ Yes, I reckon it is !_and the genuine metal, too! metal-may, in some crucibles, be transformed into gold. And the mountain is as full of it as an egg is of meat! But not to anticipate.

Only melt down one of the rocks up there, and you 'll see

how it will fly out!” Grubemout had been upon the mountain-side, which To have stopped the spread of such information as this, overlooks the delightful village of Fleeceington, for a would have surpassed the ingenuity of our clerical friend, month or more, making careful chiselings from rocks, who was opposed to the Magnetic Telegraph, as “ a device and excavations at their sides. UPTOsnuff carried his pick- of the devil.” There was a Califoruia excitement in a axe and his tasket. The “collection” gradually swelled village, with California itself in their own mountain. He upon their hands, until it became quite formidable; and would have been a lucky traveler, who could have had the “ choice specimens," were without number, rich, and his horse shod for a guinea, or a bridle-rein mended for without reason, tare. DRAWITWELL, the host of " The double the amount. Hawk and Buzzard," had his eye upon their movements, “ You see, my lads!" says Drawitwell, haranguing and always made it a point to take a peep at their basket the crowd, “they are going to do the fair thing by us, they when they descended in the evening. He was an open-' have bought the land, and are getting their act of incoreyed sort of an old lark, who had had his own way in the poration ready, and we are all to have shares in it at a village at election times and at trainings, by virtue of a reasonable rate and I reckon I'll have a few, or money colonelcy and aidship to the governor—a cheap sort of must be scarce in Fleeceington. There'll be high times at payment for service rendered and he felt as if nothing the “ Hawk and Buzzard, now, I should say,

when every of importance ought to transpire in the place, unless he man in this prosperous village can be an owner, for a had a hand in it. Drawitwell did not like the air of small sum, in one of the richest mines on the face of the mystery with which his lodgers slipped the covered basket earth. You see it's going to be most unconscionable high, up stairs, after they had performed their ablutions; nor tou—it's now twenty-two cents a pound—for the goveru

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