moment they threw themselves upon him, They would not, however, take warning; and more vexed than hurt, the two fallen boys returned to the charge. This time Bob, who was one of them, was met by brave little Jack, who, though much smaller, threw himself upon him, and clung round his neck, so that he was helpless. Very angry, he with some difficulty succeeded in unclasping the boy's hands, and then dashed him from him with great violence. Ah! what is that cry? that shriek from the prostrate little fellow? It sobered them all in a moment, as they gathered round him. "My leg! my leg !" was all he could groan. "It's sprained, I suppose," said Bob, in an as unconcerned a tone as he could. "It's broken, you wretch!" said old Betty, as she knelt down by the fallen child. "Broken; stuff!" he replied. "Come get up, Jack, I didn't mean to hurt you." "I can't," he answered, and screamed again as they tried to raise him. "We'll carry him home," said Joe; "one of you go for the doctor;" and he took the lad tenderly in his arms, like a baby, while Sam set off, heartily ashamed of the share he had had in the affair, to bring the doctor. Old Betty was now heard lamenting, "My poor girl! I was coming for the doctor for her, and now when shall I get him? and she so bad. She'll die before he comes!" "Why, what's the matter, Betty?" said Joe, stopping to listen, and not knowing what to do between Betty and the helpless boy in his arms; Is anything the matter with Sally?” "Oh, aye! she's got the throat, and was nigh choked when I came off, and here I am and no doctor called, nor likely to be got now. What shall I do ?" said the old woman. "Go back to Sally, and I'll send him as soon as possible," said Joe. "You may depend upon me." 66 Then God bless you," said the old woman. "But, oh! make him look sharp." "Yes, yes," said Joe, moving away with poor little Jack, who finding himself safe in Joe's arms, tried to keep back his cries, though every step gave him intense pain. And now how heartily ashamed some of the party felt when they saw all the evil that was following from their mischief and cowardice. Even Bob was silenced, and slunk behind, while some exclaimed, "Why didn't she tell us Sally was bad, and then we would have stood by her?" and others, "We'd have let her alone." "A deal of chance you gave her!" said Joe. "I thought you knew better than to attack an old woman, and fight a boy half your size." They reached poor little Jack's house in about ten minutes, and then the boys dispersed, while Joe laid him gently upon the bed upstairs, His widowed mother was terribly shocked, and cried bitterly as she tried to take off his clothes, and his two little sisters sobbed piteously. The sight of their distress made Jack more resolutely keep back his cries, on Joe's saying to him, "Be a man, and don't cry out." Stay with me, then," said the boy. "Yes, I'll stay. You stood by me. I wish I had held my tongue, you poor child," said Joe. "What! and let the old woman be killed ?" said Jack. No, no, I wouldn't do that." 66 'But if I had defended her myself," replied Joe, "this would not have happened." "But it would," said Jack, half raising himself up in his eagerness. "I would not have stood by, and seen them attack you, and done nothing." "I believe you, my brave fellow," said Joe, as the poor child sank down again, and groaned with pain. A few minutes afterwards the doctor arrived, and poor Jack lifted up his head to say, "Don't "What's that?" said Mr. Anson, the doc- Joe told his message, and Mr. Anson replied, "I'll see her as soon as ever I have done with you, my lad. You'll be a brave lad, won't you? and don't cry out more than you can help." "That he won't, sir," said Joe, and the setting began. old grandfather, who sat by the fire, with a pleasant smile. "Come at last, my lad! What hast thee been after?" said the old man. "I sent Kitty to bed, and sat up for thee myself." "I could not come sooner, grandfather," replied Joe, "though I feared I was keeping you up." Then he told his story, only omitting to say anything of the meanness of the boys in attacking an old woman; and he told of Jack's accident, without betraying Bob, or his own defence of Betty. How different were the feelings with which Poor little fellow! It was hard work not Joe fell asleep that night, from those of many of to cry out, and once or twice a little cry did his companions. Sam was heartily ashamed escape him, but on the whole he bore up man- of himself, though he had not actually joined fully, and Mr. Anson said he was a fine fellow. in the affray. Still he knew that he had While this was going on, there was one boy thoughtlessly encouraged Bob at first, and resuffering more even than Jack, though in a frained from interfering afterwards, thinking it different way. Shivering with cold and fear good fun to see Joc's spirit up. Several outside the cottage stood Bob. He longed to others had the same reason for condemning know what was going on, and whether the leg themselves; while some who had really joined was really broken, but he durst not show him- in the attack felt still more deeply to blame; self. He did not know how much blame might and now, in their quieter moments, there was attach to him, and though he was really sorry not one who did not feel more or less unhappy. for the accident, he was ashamed to show what But for Bob it was the worst. He tossed he was feeling, and had not courage enough to restlessly from side to side, thinking how he own that he had done wrong. It would have had started it all, how he had thought it a been a great relief to him to have asked the sign of manly courage not to give in to Joe, doctor about Jack as he came out, but he was and how ruthlessly he had flung the poor child afraid-he thought Mr. Anson would know it from him, as if that was being brave! Then was all his fault. So he still stood shivering, in the silent night he conjured up fears that once approaching close to the lower window to he might be punished, and knew that, at least, peep in. every one would blame him; and even if they did not, he was not so devoid of feeling but l that he was really grieved at the pain poor little Jack had suffered, and had yet to suffer. He would have liked to tell him that he was sorry, but he was not humbled enough for that yet. Then he thought of the old woman. " Why was he such a fool as to meddle with her? and Sally ill." The "throat complaint," as the village people called diphtheria, had carried off many in that neighbourhood, and a horror came over Bob lest the delay in Mr. Anson's visit should have made him too late. Everything looked black and threatening, as things will look at night to a guilty conscience; and Bob lay trembling, partly with fear, partly with cold, envying his little brother Fred, who lay sleeping unconsciously at his side. How differently broke Christmas morning upon him and upon Joe! How was he to rejoice in a Saviour, whose law of mercy and kindness he had so wilfully broken? Sullenly and miserably he rose to meet the joyous day. There sat the poor mother by the fire, rocking herself to and fro in her distress; the two little girls had fallen asleep in each other's arms, sitting on the floor by the fireside. But of Joe and Jack he could see nothing, for they were upstairs. Jack would not allow his mother to be present during the setting of the leg. Mr. Anson had left orders that he should be kept quite quiet, and only Joe sat by his bed. About a quarter of an hour after Mr. Anson left, the door opened again, and Joe came out. Bob dashed round the corner so as not to be seen. What would he not have given to speak, if pride had not kept him back? He would not show what he felt to Joe, so he let that opportunity slip. Soon afterwards, wretched and cold, he went home. Joe, on leaving Jack, thought to himself that perhaps poor old Betty wanted help, for there was no one to do anything for her. He would just run over and see; and with quick steps he bent his way to the gate-house. He met Mr. Anson a short way from the house, only to learn that poor Sally was very bad. He feared he had been called too late, and could not save her. "Can I be of any use, sir?" he asked, not a little distressed. "Why, yes, you can fetch some wine from the Hall for the old woman; and let them know about the girl. The only hope for her is in the care she gets, and the old woman does not know how to leave her; so let her know you are going." He Not so Joe. His occupations, sorrowful though they had been, were a good preparation for Christmas joys, and the early morning found him greeting every one with a cheerful smile, and "a merry Christmas to you;" and then he set off to poor little Jack to say a cheering word before going to church. would have liked to stay with him, but Joe was one of the choir, and his voice was wanted to swell the praises of Christmas-day. Poor Jack was a choir boy too, and it was a sad disappointment to miss the Christmas Glad, indeed, that he had come, Joe hastened singing and Christmas festivities; but Joe on, and was just in time to stop Betty's going cheered him up, and as he left him with some herself, at the risk of leaving Sally alone. He books and pictures, and a promise to call again quickly returned with wine and jelly, and the before the day was out, and his little sisters promise of one of the servants to help the old brought up some greens and dressed his room, woman to nurse through the night. Then, he smiled as he watched them prepare for with many blessings poured upon his head, he church, and it did not seem as if Christmas once more turned homewards. How bright joys were shut out from the little boy, pinned was the night! the snow sparkling in the as he was to his bed and his room. moonlight, and not a breath of wind stirring. cheered up the mother, too, with his kindly The shadows from every tree and shrub words, though it was hard for the poor woman lay distinct on the pure snow, and the air, to bear up; for Jack's earnings were one of her though very cold, was clear and inspiriting to chief means of support; and now there seemed one who, like Joe, was in good health, and had no hope of getting on without parish relief, been engaged in acts of mercy-in showing which the widow had hitherto done without. forth the "goodwill to men" which a Saviour Perhaps, however, the thought of One_born had brought from heaven to earth at Christ- that day in the poverty of a stable, and with mas-tide. In spite of the scenes of sorrow Joe but a manger for His bed, may have helped had just left, he could not but waik cheerily her to smile under her less severe lot. along, and it was with a bright face that he One glance we must take into another cotopened the door of his home, and greeted his | tage-the gate house-and see whether Christ Joe " mas joys were shut out from thence. I think not, judging from the calm face of the sick girl, as, unable to speak, she lay listening to the words of the clergyman, who had hurried off early to see her, having heard of her illness that morning for the first time. He speaks to her of a Saviour, born that day, who had opened the way to glory, and taken away the sting of death. Sally's face brightens up, as though the joys of Christmas reach the dying bed. Only to Bob came no joy. He durst not go out, dreading to meet his companions; and the first news that had reached him in the morning was that Sally was not likely to get better. The doctor had come too late. Was it his fault? His father, brother and sisters went to church, but he would not go. He waited until he thought every one was in church, and then stole out, and went towards Jack's cottage, longing to know how he was going on. Yet when he got there, he had not the courage to go in. What would Jack's mother say to him? She would lay it all to him, and he was not willing to acknowledge he had been to blame. After wandering about a while, he stole back again. Afternoon came, and Bob sat over the fire, speaking to nobody. Suddenly the church bell sounded. He started, and listened for the second stroke. Yes! it was a passing bell -slowly and at intervals it sounded. Whom was it for? He could not bear the suspense, and rising hastily he left the cottage. "Who is the hell tolling for?" was the question he asked of the first person he met. "Sally Gruntly. She died half an hour back,” was the reply. Bob started and turned so pale, that Sam (for it was he whom Bob had addressed) exclaimed, "What ails thee, lad?" "It was too late," was all that Bob could answer, and he turned and walked away quickly. Evening came again. Joe, true to his promise, had been sitting some time with Jack, and then had gone off to church. Jack begged his mother to go, and only to leave Nelly with him. He could do very well. Who is it that watches so carefully to see who leaves the cottage? It is poor Bob; and now satisfied that Jack's mother was not in, he approaches the cottage, gently opens the door, and saying to Nelly, I want to see Jack," went up stairs. "I'll tell thee "So do I now," said Bob. what, Jack, I'll be a different lad to what I have been. I seem to have got a lesson that I don't think I shall forget in a hurry." "Ah! yes, Bob, you'll be steadier, I'm sure," said Jack, "and not go and do things just to brag that you are a man." "There you have hit upon it," said Bob; "that's what I've done, I know; and, after all, Joe, with all his steadiness, is a braver, better fellow than I am. Last night's work taught me that." A little head now peeped into the room, and a small voice said, of HERE ARE FOUR KINDS witches used for charming rats; namely, a red herring, some old rags, a small bottle of oil of aniseed, and a calf's tail. These are the witches! and the method of using them is simply thus :-If you prefer the red herring, all you have to do is to tie it by the tail with a piece of string; but be careful to handle it as little as possible. Then after dark, when all is quiet, just trail it on the ground round the barn or rick where the rats are, and then strike off, trailing it all the way to the place where you wish them to go, and there leave it; or, if you know the place where they drink, it is only necessary to trail it across their path to the place you would have them go to, and that will have the same effect. The consequence is, when the rats come out to drink at the nearest pond, ditch, or river, they will catch the scent of the herring. Off they will go, nosing it all the way like hounds; and when there, it is a hundred to one they do not go back, but quietly take up their abode where they are. This method of drawing them mostly proves successful; but either of the others I think better, which is to fasten a string to the old rags or calf's tail; then pour some of the oil of aniseed upon them, and trail them the same as the herring to the place where you wish the rats should go. The rags should be old ones that have been exposed to the air; but, in any case, you should handle them as little as possible, because, if the rats smell the odour of your hands, they will not go, but run away. In the third place, if you would like to follow the other plan, all you have to do is, to pour some of the oil of aniseed on the soles of your boots, and take very short steps as you pass over the ground, the same as in trailing; but, in that case, when you arrive at the place, you must take off your boots, and carry them to a distance, or else the rats will follow you to your own house. Thus you know the whole secret of bewitch ing rats. JAMES RODWELL. CHRISTMAS CAROL. Not in the glorious summer, Did Christ our Lord appear. But when the moonlight sparkled On mountains cold and clear, Then at the solemn midnight Did Christ our Lord appear. Who watched in holy fear Did Christ our Lord appear. Thus in the soul's dark winter Is light and gladness near; Thus to the solemn-hearted Will Christ our Lord appear. The beams of His light and glory Shall dry up every tear; To us in His wondrous mercy May Christ our Lord appear! E. H. MITCHELL. THE WOMAN TAKEN IN ADULTERY.-Christ did He did not hide from not deceive this poor woman. her what His true service is. His word to her, as it is to all who desire His pardoning mercy, was this- -"Go and sin no more." He did not say to her, after she had shed a few tears over her sins, "Go, thou art saved." He did not send her away shouting for joy, and tell her that she was now fit for Heaven. O no, brethren; it was a very different word which He spake to her; He who holds the keys of Heaven, who shuts and none can open; and opens and none can shut; He said unto her, "Go, and sin no more." It was a word which had no triumph in it, no assurances of salvation and glory; but it had something better-it was a word of truth; it was a word which spoke to her of all her remaining years to be given up to the service of Him who had had mercy on her; of taking up the cross day by day, every day she lived, to follow in His steps; of a life of watchfulness, prayer, self-denial, diligent striving against sin, earnest seeking after holiness. It was a word which spoke to her of judgment to come, when all men shall receive according to the works done in the body; when those who continue in sin, after the love and mercy of the Redeemer of their souls has been made known to them by the preaching of His Gospel, did not know His holy will, and therefore did not do it. will be beaten with many stripes, more than they who It was a word which sent her forth to prepare in holy fear, though in humble hope also, for the account which she ould hereafter give before the judgmentseat of hedeemer. It was a word to keep her earnest, to hep her diligent, to keep her humble, to thinking herself to stand, she should fall for ever.keep her watching and praying even to the end, lest, Village Sermons, by J. P. Giles, M.A. ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS. "E. H." inquires whether all our English creepers turn towards the sun: i. e., whether they all wind in the same direction round a pole; viz., from right to left on the hither side? We have never observed a creeper take the opposite direction; but if any of our readers have had a different experience, we should be glad to hear from them. "E. H." would also wish to know whether in the Southern hemisphere the creepers, still following the sun, wind round their supporters from left to right? M. N," asks us to recommend a good English history, but does not say for what class of readers. If for children, or for those who have little time for reading, the best we know is "Kings of England" (Mozley), by the author of "The Heir of Redelyffe" (smaller edition, 18.); but the history of England, short, manly, true, and interesting, remains yet to be written. Perhaps it is an impossibility. We thank "J. H." for her lines, and are sorry we cannot insert them. The first two stanzas are very good, the others unequal. "Mrs. W. M." However good in itself, not suitable for our pages. Fremher We have now reached the last month of our modern year. By the early Romans it was reckoned as the tenth; hence its name of December (from Decem, ten). By our Saxon forefathers it was named Mid-pinzen-monad, or mid-winter month; and geola or Yule-month, from gehpeol, a wheel, because the sun, as a wheel, was supposed to have now run his yearly course. In this and the following months we often see the whole face of the country bound with a hard crust of frost, and everything looks barren and lifeless. But the frost, like every other creature of God, has its work to do, and man is the gainer. By the frost the ground is mellowed and fitted for the plough, the spade, or the fork of the husbandman. When the frost has gone, the stiff clods fall to pieces almost of their own accord, and crumble at the slightest touch; and in the soil thus prepared, the good seed takes root more easily and more firmly. Sometimes we see the green fields and fallows, the waste commons and the cultivated gardens, all alike wrapped in a great white cloak of snow. Silently it fell, and took all nature in its cool embrace; quietly it overlies the more delicate plants, protecting them from the too severe effects of frost; and quietly it melts into the bosom of the earth, enriching the hidden roots with its penetrating moisture. Thus frost and snow, as well as sun and rain, fulfil His word who rules the seasons in His wisdom. Christmas-day is, of course, the great festival of this month; but four saints' days surround it, as with a coronet of glory: St. Thomas precedes it, and prepares the way; St. Stephen, St. John the Evangelist, and the Holy Innocents follow close upon the birth-day of our Lord. St. Thomas was the Apostle who first doubted of Christ's resurrection; and then, when he believed, exclaimed, "My Lord and my God." Fitly, therefore, are we prepared, by his example, to accept our Lord, coming to us on Christmas-day in great humility, in all the helplessness of infancy, as our Lord and master, " very God of very God," as the Word made flesh," even that Word who " in the beginning was with God, and was God." St. Stephen has the place of honour next to Christmas-day, because he was the first martyr, i.e., the first to suffer death for the testimony of Jesus (Acts vii. 57-69). St. John the Evangelist takes the second place of honour, because he was a martyr in will, though not in deed. He was willing to suffer for Christ; and was, we are told, actually thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil, but brought out again unhurt by the power of God. The Holy Innocents complete the coronet-martyrs in deed, though not in will, as they glorified God by their deaths, suffering in Christ's place, before they had any choice of their own. In some sense every Christian may be a martyr for Christ. He may not, indeed, be called upon to bear witness for Christ by death, like St. Stephen, or the little Babes of Bethlehem; but he may endure lighter sufferings with a willing mind, and may risk in Christ's service dangers which never actually befal him; he may show forth his faith in his Saviour by a steady perseverance in the right path in spite of difficulties and troubles; and if so, he will not lose his reward. POSTSCRIPT. GE CANNOT BRING TO A CLOSE THE FIRST YEAR in the life of our little Magazine, without thanking our readers for the support and encouragement they have afforded us. Letters of approval, acknowledging in the NEW PENNY MAGAZINE the supply of a want long felt, have reached us not only from all parts of the United Kingdom, but from distant colonies; and our circulation is such as to encourage us to new endeavours to deserve support in the coming year. The adoption, at the express request of numerous correspondents, of a good legible type, with the large and numerous woodcuts, which were an essential part of our design, has obliged us to withhold matter of an interesting character, which we would gladly have given in preceding numbers if it had been possible. We hope next year to gather flowers from the field of Church History, and present them to our readers, and to give to our younger friends many a half-hour's amusement among the wonders of nature and art. We also hope to be able to allot more space to our Correspondents, and so enlist more varied sympathies, and put ourselves upon a more intimate and friendly footing with our readers. We appeal therefore, with renewed confidence, to the support and co-operation of those who approve the principles on which our Magazine has been conducted. If adequate support be obtained, we purpose to offer nearly half as much again to our readers as we were able to afford them in our first year; and we may assure our friends that the more liberally they deal with us, the higher will be the quality of the material we present to them. Volume I. of the "New Penny Magazine" is now ready, in stiff covers, price 1s. Printed and published by Jonx CROCKFORD, at 10, Wellington-street, Strand, London, W.C., in the County of Middlesex.-Monday, December 2, 1861. hope; but it is possible to kill it ourselves in ourselves. You bid your relations and neighbours a happy new year, and you accept their good wishes with a hope they may come true to you; but look back upon the year that is past, and see what has most interfered with the happiness you expected. Happy indeed are you, my TAME RABBITS, We had, at the same time, a fine tabby eat, who used to sit gravely upon the loose brick wall and watch the antics of the young bunnies in their little courtyard; but I believe he seldom, if ever, jumped down, he was too much afraid of the old buck, who would stamp most fiercely at any intruder, and would bite too pretty sharply. amiable. Our first two does were, one jet black, the I am sorry to say, also, that the ladies were not always other beautifully mottled-black and white. morning we found poor spottie dead and cold—her blæk sister had killed her. One fifty in number we grew tired of feeding them, and sold When our fur-clad family had increased to forty or them all, putting several pounds into our pockets, as the end of an amusement which had cost us ninepence, and occasionally a little bran. ZAB THE EMIGRANT BROTHERS. CHAP. XIII. A NIGHT ON THE VELDT. FORGIVE ME, DEAR READER, if I reverse the order of nature, and talk of tame rabbits before I have said anything of wild ones. The fact is, I have two charming pictures before reader, if it was but some trouble from me. In one I see three grey bunnies under a without. You may have had losses, you mossy bank, where fox-gloves grow, and the may have borne sickness, you may have forest leaves throw a dancing shade-nature's been ill-treated; your trust in some friend unsophisticated rabbits on the edge of a common. In the other I see two domesticated may have failed you; yet, if I am not much mistaken, the keenest unhappiness black and white, with wondrous long droopbeauties, one blue and white, the other of the past year arose from your own ing ears, and faces which say as plainly as doings. All troubles from without are faces can speak, "We don't hunt for food, softened by distance. Even to that keenest we lie still till it is brought to us. We are not of all trials (beyond the sphere of our own hunted or shot at, but petted and admired." conscience), a loving confidence misplaced, And when I ask which shall I first lay before we become reconciled by lapse of time. the readers of the NEW PENNY MAGAZINET WAS A LONG TIME before Robert recovered his strength. For But the sense of pain in the remembrance - though wild rabbits certainly frisked and more than seven weeks from the comof our own faults is of a wholly different gambolled, and showed a white scut, and made burrows long before tame rabbits were heard mencement of his illness he was unable to put character; it is not eased by mere dis-or thought of-yet you shall have the tame his feet to the ground, and for nine weeks after ones first: partly because I find the tame pic-that he went on crutches. His three dearest ture suits my purpose better, and partly friends on earth were with him for a week, because the editor is in a great hurry, and while he was still confined to his bed. Charley wants my rabbit tales (query tails?) at once; and if he won't give me time to read or think, I must tell you what I know and remember. First, then, I have known poor men keep a few rabbits, and feed them with spare garden they left him to the care of his friend Chard. produce and a little bran; and so provide of course Robert felt the parting severely. A themselves every now and then a Sunday pud-presence was withdrawn which had for many weeks lighted up his sick chamber, and made ding, made on Saturday evening, where they even the sunshine brighter in his few feeble could not afford to buy a bit of meat; by which it appears that tame rabbits need not be hearted fellow as he was, to cheer up his walks. Chard did his best, like a good kindkept for amusement only. Next, I have kept rabbits myself, for amuse-have lost the art; in fact, it was like the blind patient; but, somehow or other, he seemed to|| ment I confess; but if any one wishes to keep leading the blind. Chard himself felt a curious them for use, I don't see why he should not have the benefit of my experience; and I think rienced in his life before; and as it is hard to sense of want which he had never expehe would find my plan answer much better lift a man out of the mud unless you have than the common one. In fact, I should not weeks in a little hutch made of an old candle. like to eat a rabbit which had been shut up for box. I should never fancy the meat was care- sweet. tance, it demands atonement; until a satisfaction is made the conscience has no ease; or if it find a false case, it is at best a stupid numbness, inconsistent with happiness. If, then, this be our experience of the past, it supplies a rule for the future, a double rule :— First, that by a thorough confession we wipe out the faults of the past. Mere distance will not do it; the change from one year to another will not lighten the conscience of a single ill deed. If we pass carelessly and heartlessly from the old year to the new, we carry the sins of the past with us into the future, to destroy the happiness which our friends wish us ; but if we go with true penitence to Him who has paid the ransom, then we may be free indeed, and enter with a good hope upon a new and happier, because better life. Secondly, that we watch more fully in the new year on which we are entering, against those faults which have darkened the happiness of the past year. One year more has been added to our experience of life, and every one tells the same tale, that we carry peace with us, or cast it from us, by our own doings. And this again should bring us to Him who is the source of strength as well as the fountain of mercy. He knows as well as we, nay, infinitely better, that the "Happy New Year" may be rendered intensely miserable by faults indulged, duties negleeted; and He is willing, and more than willing, to make it a happy year indeed, by making it a good one. We bought three little ones; and I think we paid threepence a piece for them. At first we kept them in a hutch, but afterwards, when they grew larger, we got possession of a good-sized outhouse. Against the outside of this shed we built of bricks, without mortar, which our rabbits could take the air, and in which they a wall about four feet high, enclosing a little court, in were fed. Then under the door-sill we made a covered way, or a sort of artificial burrow; through this the paved with bricks. Afterwards, when the number of our pets was much increased, we pulled up two or three of the bricks, and the mother rabbits then made themselves burrows just as they would have done in their wild state. In these burrows each new family was born, and here the little ones remained until they were believe to have been one great secret of our success. old enough to run about and help themselves. This I Boy rabbit-keepers generally destroy a great number of the little ones by over-kindness or over-curiosity. The poor little blind puff-balls are pulled about by cold hands, and exposed to draughts in mid air, or even set to grope their way with closed eyes over the darap grass, when they should lie coddled in the downy nest, and be rabbits had a free entrance to the shed, which was was then obliged to return to his parish, but Maggie and Maria remained with him until he began to move about with comparative ease, and showed signs of returning vigour, when Chard's efforts to raise the spirits of his friend your own foot firm upon the solid ground, so the mire. But his was a brave heart, as well only served to show that he too was deep in as a kind one. He had no notion of showing a dismal face in a sick room; and telling Robert that he must provide something for next day's dinner he mounted his horse, and, with his rifle slung over his shoulder, rode out into the Veldt. A good gallop would restore his spirits, and the eagerness of the chase would divert his thoughts. If curious sights could effect his purpose, he must have along the shore of a beautiful lake, hemmed in succeeded in dispersing the vapours. Passing by wooded hills, he reined in his horse to look at a long red line of tall flamingoes standing side by side, each on one foot, close to the water's edge, either meditating on the beauty of the scene, or waiting till some fish spawn should float by, or some water insects venture within reach of their crooked beaks; or posother words, snails, or pond-muscles, or other sibly digesting their last meal of mollusks-in soft-bodied creatures, with or without shells. While watching these feathered soldiers, standing at ease, Chard's sharp hunter's ear heard a curious scrambling noise among the trees close beside him. Turning round he Here, then, is the great secret of hope fulfilled. Here is the straight path that leads to the satisfaction of our best hopes and purest wishes. "Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchan- touched by nothing colder or harder than their mother's saw two strange-looking lizard-like creatures, dise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies; and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her; and happy is every one that retaineth her." W. J. fur. Our little colony certainly increased in a wonderful way, and we never lost any by the rot, though we fed them almost wholly on green food-dandelions, sowthistles, refuse cabbages, lettuce, &c. The free exercise and fresh air they enjoyed preserved them, I believe, from the calamities which befall rabbits in hutches. We had no fancy for monsters; long drooping ears had no particular charm for us, and I should not recommend any of you boys who wish to make a profit of your rabbits, to trouble yourselves with any except the common hardy kind, which cost least, and are least delicate. Still we had some extremely pretty black and white ones, others with delicate white skins and pink eyes; some quite black, others fawn-coloured, and a few grey, or grey and white. with scaly armour and long tails, playing apparently at hide and seek around the trunk of a large ironwood tree (Sideroxylon). They ran up and down, and popped round and round the great bole of the tree as nimbly as a squirrel. Suddenly, one of them, clinging fast with his hind claws, and supported by his long scaly tail, threw himself backwards, and swung his body to and fro, as if he enjoyed the sea-saw motion; then, remaining stock still in the same position, he looked exactly like a broken branch. At this moment the other animal made a dash at him, and bit his hind |