but, in the course of the day the real secret of this extraordinary difficulty of taking a pig out of mourning was discovered. Two of the mids were detected in the very act of tying a bit of black buntin to the leg of a sow, from which the seamen declared they had already cut off crape and silk enough to have made her a complete suit of black.

As soon as these new offences were reported, the whole party of us were ordered to the mast-head as a punishment. Some were sent to sit on topmast cross-trees, and some on the top-gallant yardarins, and one small gentleman being perched at the jib-boom end, was very properly balanced abaft by another little culprit at the extremity of the gaff. In this predicament we were hung out to dry for five or six hours, as old Daddy remarked to us with a grin, when we were called down as the night fell.

Our persevering friend, being rather provoked at the punishment of his young flock, now set to work to discover the real fate of Shakings. It soon occurred to him, that if the dog had really been made away with, as he shrewdly suspected, the butcher, in all probability must have had a hand in the murder; accordingly, he sent for him in the evening, when the following dialogue took place:

"Well, butcher, will you have a glass of grog to-night?' "Thank you, sir, thank you. Here's your honor's health! said the other, after smoothing down his hair, and pulling an immense quid of tobacco out of his mouth.

Old Daddy observed the peculiar relish with which the butcher took his glass, and mixing another, a good deal more potent, placed it before the fellow, and continued the conversation in these words:

"I tell you what it is Mr. Butcher-you are as humane as any man in the ship, I dare say; but, if required, you know well, tha you must do your duty, whether it is on sheep or hogs?" "Surely sir."

"Or upon dogs either?" suddenly inquired the inquisitor. "I don't know about that," stammered the butcher, quite taken by surprise and thrown all aback.

66

Well, well," said Daddy, "here's another glass for you-a stiff north-wester. Come! tell us all about it now.

you get rid of the dog?-of Shakings, I mean?"

How did

"Why, sir," said the peaching rogue, "I put him in a bag— a bread bag, sir."

"I tied up the mouth, and put him overboard-out of the midship lower-deck port, sir."

"Yes-but he would not sink?" said Daddy.

"Oh, sir," cried the butcher, now entering into the merciless spirit of his trade, "I put a four and twenty pound shot into the bag along with Shakings."

"Did you?-Then, Master Butcher, all I can say is, you are as precious a rascal as ever went about unhanged. There-drink your grog, and be off with you!"

Next morning when the officers were assembled at breakfast in the ward room, the door of the captain of marines' cabin was suddenly opened and that officer half shaved, and laughing, through a collar of soap suds, stalked out, with a paper in his hands.

"Here," he exclaimed, "is a copy of verses which I found in my basin this morning. I can't tell how they got there or what they are about;-but you shall judge."

So he read the two following stanzas of doggerel:

"When the Northern Confederacy threatened our shores,

And roused Albion's Lion, reclining to sleep,

Preservation was taken of all the kings stores,

Nor so much as a rope-yarn was launched in the deep.

"But now it is peace, other hopes are in view,

And all active service as light as a feather,

The Stores may be d-d, and humanity too,

-For Shakings and Shot are thrown overboard together!"

i need hardly say in what quarter of the ship this biting morsel of cock-pit satire was concocted, nor indeed who wrote it, for there was no one but our good Daddy who was equal to such a flight About midnight, an urchin-who shall be nameless-was thrust out of one of the after ports of the lower deck, from which he clambered up to the marine officer's port, and the sash happening to have been lowered down on the gun, the epigram, copied by another of the youngsters was pitched into the soldier's basin.

The wisest thing would have been for the officer's to have said nothing about the matter, and let it blow by. But angry people are seldom judicious-so they made a formal complaint to the captain, who, to do him justice, was not a little puzzled how to settle the affair. The reputed author was called up, and the captain said to him—

Pray, sir, are you the writer of these lines?"

"I am sir," he replied, after a little consideration.

"Then all I can say is," remarked the captain, "they are clever enough, in their way-but take my advice, and write no more such verses.

So the affair ended. The satirist took the captain's hint in good part, and confined his pen to matters below the surface of the

water.

As in the course of a few months the war broke out, there was no longer time for such nonsense, and our generous protector, old Daddy, some time after the affair of Shakings took place, was sent off to Halifax, in charge of a prize. His orders were if possible to join his own ship, the Leander, then lying at the entrance of New York harbor, just within Sandy Hook light-house.

Our good old friend, accordingly, having completed his mission and delivered his prize to the authorities of Halifax, took his pas

sage in the British packet sailing from thence to the port in which we lay. As this ship sailed past us, on her way to New York, we ascertained, to our great joy, that our excellent Daddy was actually on board of her. Some hours afterwards the pilot boat was seen coming to us, and though it was in the middle of the night, all the young mids came hastily on deck to welcome their worthy messmate back again to his ship.

It was late in October, and the wind blew fresh from the northwestward, so that the ship, riding to the ebb, had her head directed towards the Narrows, between Staten island and Long island; consequently the pilot-boat,-one of those beautiful vessels so well known to every visiter of the American coast,-came flying down upon us, with the wind nearly right aft. Our joyous party were all assembled on the quarter-deck, looking anxiously at the boat as she swept past us. She then luffed round, in order to sheer alongside, at which moment the mainsail jibed, as was to be expected. It was obvious, however, that something more had taken place than the pilot had looked for, since the boat, instead of ranging up to us, was brought right round on her heel, and went off again upon a wind on the other tack. The tide carried her out of sight for a few minutes, but she was soon alongside, when we learned, to our inexpressible grief and consternation, that, on the main-boom of the pilot-boat swinging over, it had accidentally struck our poor friend and pitched him headlong overboard. Being encumbered with a great coat, the pockets of which, as we afterwards learned, were loaded with his young companions' letters, brought from England by this packet, he in vain struggled to reach the boat and then sunk to rise no more.

THE SOUND OF THE SEA.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

Thou art sounding on, thou mighty sea,
For ever and the same!

The ancient rocks yet ring to thee,
Whose thunders naught can tame.

Oh! many a glorious voice is gone,
From the rich bowers of earth,
And hushed is many a lovely tone
Of mournfulness or mirth.

The Dorian flute that sighed of yore
Along thy wave, is still;

The harp of Judah peals no more
On Zion's awful hill.

Off Cuba, in the Year 1780. By Lieutenant Archer.

The Phoenix of 44 guns, Captain Sir Hyde Parker, was lost in a hurricane, off Cuba, in the West Indies, in the year 1780 The same hurricane destroyed the Thunderer, 74; Stirling Castle, 64; La Blanche, 42; Laurel, 28; Andromeda, 28; Deas Castle, 24; Scarborough, 20; Beaver's Prize, 16; Barbadoes, 14; Cameleon, 14; Endeavour, 14; and Victor, 10 guns. Lieuter ant Archer was first-lieutenant of the Phoenix at the time she was lost. His narrative in a letter to his mother, contains a most correct and animated account of one of the most awful events in the service. It is so simple and natural as to make the reader feel himself as on board the Phoenix. Every circumstance is detailed with feeling, and powerful appeals are continually made to the heart. It must likewise afford considerable pleasure to

observe the devout spirit of a seaman frequently bursting forth, and imparting sublimity to the relation.

MY DEAR MOTHer,

At Sea, June 30, 1781.

I am now going to give you an account of our last cruise in the Phoenix; and must premise, that should any one see it besides yourself, they must put this construction on it—that it was originally intended for the eyes of a mother, and a mother only-as, upon that supposition, my feelings may be tolerated. You will also meet with a number of sea terms, which, if you don't understand, why, I cannot help you, as I am unable to give a sea description in any other words.

To begin then: On the 2d of August, 1780, we weighed and sailed for Port Royal, bound for Pensacola, having two store-ships under convoy, and to see safe in; then cruise off the Havanna, and in the gulf of Mexico, for six weeks. In a few days we made the two sandy islands, that look as if they had just risen out of the sea, or fallen from the sky; inhabited, nevertheless, by upwards of three hundred English, who get their bread by catching turtle and parrots, and raising vegetables, which they exchange with ships that pass, for clothing and a few of the luxuries of life, as rum, &c.

About the 12th we arrived at Pensacola, without any thing remarkable happening, except our catching a vast quantity of fish, sharks, dolphins, and bonettos. On the 13th sailed singly, and on the 14th had a very heavy gale of wind at north, right off the land, so that we soon left the sweet place, Pensacola, a distance astern. We then looked into the Havanna, saw a number of ships there, and knowing that some of them were bound round the bay, we cruised in the track: a fortnight, however, passed, and not a single ship hove in sight to cheer our spirits. We then took a turn or two round the gulf, but not near enough to be seen from the shore. Vera Cruz we expected would have made us happy, but the same luck still continued; day followed day, and no sail. The dollar bag began to grow a little bulky, for every one had lost two or three times, and no one had won: this was a small gambling party entered into by Sir Hyde and ourselves; every one put a dollar into a bag, and fixed on a day when we should see a sail, but no two persons were to name the same day, and whoever guessed right first was to have the bag.

Being now tired of our situation, and glad the cruise was almost out, for we found the navigation very dangerous, owing to unaccountable currents; we shaped our course for Cape Antonio. The next day the man at the mast head, at about one o'clock in the afternoon, called out: "A sail upon the weather_bow! Ha! Mr. Spaniard, I think we have you at last. Turn out all

Ha!